Noah Kahan, joined by Chappell Roan, thrills 56,000 fans at the Rose Bowl

A few songs into Noah Kahan‘s sold-out show at the Rose Bowl on Saturday, Aug. 15, the Vermont singer-songwriter looked out at the stadium and reflected on how far he’s come and how fast he’s traveled.

“I’ve played almost every venue here in L.A.” Kahan said at the close of “Downfall” early in the set. “I remember playing the Troubadour and being happy if that was the rest of my career.

“So I’m grateful as [bleep] to be here,” he added as the crowd cheered.

You can, in fact, trace Kahan’s meteoric rise by the Los Angeles venues he’s played in a little less than the last five years.

In 2021, he headlined the Fonda Theatre, followed by a pair of nights at the Wiltern a year later. In 2023, he landed at the Greek Theatre.

Then in June 2024, two months after his single “Stick Season” peaked at No. 9 on the Billboard 100, Kahan sold out the Hollywood Bowl on back-to-back nights, a sure sign of something special taking place in the relationship between the singer and his songs and the fans who flocked to them.

And now the Rose Bowl, which with 56,000 fans in the seats on Saturday, becomes his biggest headlining show ever, as Kahan, who grew up in a Vermont town of about 1,000, announced with a hint of well-earned pride.

The night opened with “American Cars,” which raced along as Kahan and his terrific band jumped into a set that included 27 songs and a surprise duet with alternative pop star Chappell Roan over the two-and-a-half hours that followed.

“Doors” followed – another of the 14 songs from Kahan’s album “The Great Divide” which gives this tour its name – and as the show settled into its folk-rock groove you noticed the simple elegance of the production.

At the center of the stage a rustic farmhouse served as the backdrop to the band, its roof with a dormer window a three-dimensional structure, the front of the house a video illusion. At stage right a lonely gas pump sat in the shadows, an old Volvo station wagon with Vermont plates parked at its side.

“My name is Noah Kahan and I am here to make you [bleepin’] miserable,” Kahan said with a smile before slipping into “All My Love,” one of many sad songs about lost love and bad decisions in his catalog.

And it’s true that on the albums many of his songs will rip your heart out and run it over like roadkill. But played live, with the band at full power, it’s cathartic, not depressing, as you could clearly see in the faces of fans singing the saddest words with joyful smiles on their faces.

The stage also offered room to roam as Kahan moved out a ramp into the crowd for “Haircut” while fiddle player Nina de Vitry and multi-instrumentalist Dylan Jones climbed onto the Volvo’s hood to play.

A few songs later, after Gigi Perez, who opened for Kahan, joined him for “She Calls Back,” the farmhouse was transformed into a country store and Kahan made his way to the gas station. There, as a member of his crew played the role of a Vermont state trooper, Kahan sang “Dial Drunk” while getting splayed across the hood, locked inside the car, and finally released.

After “Willing and Able,” possible the saddest song of the night, which Kahan sang from the porch roof, he slipped deeper into the crowd to a remote stage for an extended set that opened with “Orbiter,” a song written about a bad period in his life when L.A. and awards shows and all the business of the music industry had him in a rough place.

“L.A. has been home to some of the worst days of my music career,” he explained. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. I always felt like when I came here I was auditioning for something.

“The only thing really good was when I was playing for you guys,” Kahan continued. “It was for my wife, my mom, and you guys. My three best friends.”

And, OK, maybe this was the saddest song of the night? No matter, because by now the warmth of Kahan and his band, and that reflected back from the crowd, filled the stadium with, well, love. You’re pulling for him and the characters in his songs. He’s doing the same for them and for you.

Highlights of the remote set included “Paid Time Off,” a mostly acoustic “Maine,” and “Dan,” a song about his best friend and the value in that in a world so big and sometimes so cold.

The final run of the main set included the biggest surprise of the night with Chappell Roan walking out to join Kahan, her long curly red hair instantly recognizable to most in the crowd.

“Noah always stands up for me, seriously,” said Roan, who in October played to 40,000 fans on the grounds outside the Rose Bowl, marking her biggest headlining show to date. ”He’s a good person, for real.”

They duetted on Roan’s own song “California,” which Kahan chose for its significance in their friendship.

“This is the first song I ever heard of Kayleigh’s and the reason I fell in love with her music,” he said, using Roan’s real first name. “And I’m just really proud of her and thankful that she would come sing with me.”

That’s a big peak to come down from and it’s credit to Kahan that the songs that followed delivered their own equally powerful impressions. “Northern Attitude” flowed into “The Great Divide,” the wonderful, moving title track of his April release.

“Orange Juice,” and its message of hope for anyone struggle with sobriety, landed like the sweetest embrace. For “New Perspective,” Kahan told fans to “think about someone you really want to fail” as he sang it.

A trio of horns joined the band for “End of August” and “Homesick,” which opened the encore. And then “Stick Season,” the song everyone knew would show up in time, finally arrived.

It’s a song without which Kahan probably doesn’t play the Rose Bowl, certainly not this early in the 29-year-old’s career. Written during the pandemic, teased out on social media, it’s his signature song with the the signature written in a 96-point font.

“We’ve got one more chorus to sing,” Kahan said, still smiling as the night neared its end. “You’ve heard this song in every grocery store in America, you better sing.”

They sang. Loud, long, lovingly. Fireworks lit the sky above the Rose Bowl and still they sang.