And The Writer Is...with Ross Golan - Ep. 180: Noah Kahan

Episode Date: April 15, 2024

Today’s guest is a small town boy turned songwriting superstar. Hailing from Strafford, Vermont, our guest spent his life surrounded by profoundly beautiful nature, and a quaint, tight-knit community. This environment served as a source of inspiration for his introspective lyrics and homey folk melodies. After years of honing his craft in this space, our guest began to dominate the pop charts, eventually garnering several Grammy nominations. On top of that he’s landed more than five billion streams, a Double Platinum Certification for his hit single “Stick Season,” and collaborations with Post Malone, Kacey Musgraves, Brandi Carlile, Hozier, Gregory Alan Isakov, Gracie Abrams, Sam Fender, Lizzy McAlpine, Zach Bryan, Joy Oladokun, and more. Our guest has embarked on a sold-out tour across North America, selling over half-a-million tickets and performing to sold out audiences in stadiums and arenas. This guest is at the forefront of the folk-rennissane, and is doing it with grace, humility and humor. And The Writer Is…#NoahKahan! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Welcome to And The Writer Is with Ross Golan. There are millions of singers, thousands of artists, and only 40 songs per genre at a time. These are the stories of the hottest creatives, the most venerable legends, artists, songwriters, executives, and more. Follow our socials and share your music with the and the Writer is community. We'll see you all there and now. Here's this week's episode. Chart metric is proud to sponsor the upcoming. season of and The Writer is.

As the go-to-source for up-to-date global social streaming and audience data for artists and music industry professionals, chart metrics strives to ensure everyone can have a successful career in music. They're easy to understand and powerful analytics on over 10 million artists and 100 million tracks will help answer all of your questions from tracking your stats to discovering new talents. Throughout this season, we'll be showcasing chart metric data to reveal insights about our featured artists like how Noah Khan is currently the top performing artists from Vermont by Spotify monthly listeners. Plans start as low as $10 a month. Learn more and get started today

at chartmetric.com. Let me tell you about ASCAP. ASCAP is America's only creator for first performing rights organization and the only one that operates on a not-for-profit basis. They were founded by songwriters, composers, and publishers, and they're still governed by them today. ASCAP's main job is to pay you royalties when songs you write are streamed, broadcast on radio, or TV, or played live. And they're so good at collecting royalties that in 2023, they distributed a record $1.592 billion. to ASCAP members. But they do other things too.

In fact, they go to Washington all the time to advocate for your songwriter rights, which is more important than ever in the age of AI. ASCAP represents over 975,000 members, including this episode's guest, Noah Kahn. If you are a songwriter or composer, ASCAP is where you belong.

You can learn more about joining ASCAP at ASCAP.com forward slash why join and follow at ASCAP on socials. Hey guys, I'm excited to tell you a little bit about one of today's sponsors, Peer Music. During a time of intense consolidation in the music industry, peer music's rich legacy is something that can't be bought. Peer music has been family run since it was founded in 1928.

From its entrepreneurial roots, the company has grown into one of the largest and most respected independent music publishing and neighboring rights companies in the industry. They have 39 offices in 32 countries, so they are big enough to help your music reach the entire world. Peer Music represents some of the biggest names in music, including our former guest, Pooh Bear, David Lee Murphy, David Foster, Nothing But Thieves, Gabby Moreno, Chian, The Trague, and many, many more. And peer music neighboring rights represents over 300 record labels and more than 3,000 artists including Billy Eilich, Imagine Dragons, Martin Garrick, David Gattah, Metallica, Megan the Stallion, Hur, and Stromé. Delivering nearly 100 years of music publishing excellence, peer music is a trusted and widely respected leader in our music community.

If you want to learn more, I recommend you go to at Peer Music on all their social media sites and check out PeerMusic.com. Welcome to And The Writer is. I'm your host, Ross Golan. Today's Phenom is a small tomboy turned songwriting superhero, hailing from Stratford, Vermont. Our storyteller spent his life service. surrounded by a profoundly beautiful nature and a quaint, tight-knit community. His environment served as a source of inspiration for his introspective lyrics and homie folk melodies. After a few years of honing his crap, this musical poet began to dominate streaming services,

eventually garnering Grammy Noms and respect. Our guest is at the forefront of the folk renaissance and is doing it with grace, humility, and humor. And the writer is Noa Khan. Hey, hey, how we doing? Thanks for having me. Hey. Welcome. Thank you so much.

Happy to be here. So, you know, I think your life is pretty well documented in many ways. And I just like getting into sort of the nitty-gritty. What's really interesting is if you really want to know the nitty-gritty, all you have to do is actually listen to your songs or you're really specific with your writing. But that said, for those who want to get to know you better, let's start from the beginning. You are born. I'm born. Day two at the hospital

passed without much event. Day three, though, was when things really started to shake up. You know, the cafeteria was serving. I don't know. Anyways, I was born, yeah, I was born in New Hampshire and lived in Stratford, Vermont with my folks and my family and they moved over to New Hampshire, which is like 20 minutes across the river, to go to like elementary through middle school. So I grew up two small towns essentially, Stratford, Vermont, much smaller than Hanover, New Hampshire, where I spent much in my life as well. But I grew up in like really small, you know, nice middle class towns, upper middle

class, nice area, but very few people and surrounded by, you know, the Connecticut River and the beautiful mountains of Vermont and New Hampshire. And grew up, love to. I love it. I grew up, love loving music basically. And just like from a very young age found music. And I had three siblings and my parents were both very creative. My mom was an author and my dad taught me the guitar. And it's just always surrounded by music and kind of creativity and a lot of like self-deprecating humor and my siblings. And, you know, all the, all the kind of trappings of like a big family, funny, culturally Jewish family where everyone's making fun of each other.

And I'm like going back to my room and feeling sad and playing the guitar. and, you know, just had had a kind of nice, nice normal life. Yeah, the self-deprecation is a, the self-deprecation is such a part of our culture. Yeah. You know, so it's like it's a, it becomes part of your writing naturally, I think. But wait, how does a Jewish family end up in, I mean, multicultural family, right? Yeah, half Jewish. My dad, my dad's side of the family was very Jewish.

We're just, we're just a loud culture. Yeah, loud. I feel like I have all the cultural trappings of like a fully Jewish family. Yeah. I got the acid reflux. I have the face, as you can see. Maybe the podcast listeners can't tell. But, you know, pronounced nose and grew up not overtly religious, but definitely feel like, you know, spending a lot of time my dad and his family like that side of the family definitely rubbed off on me a lot. How did they end up where they ended up, though? I mean, my family ended up in New York and Chicago. and I know a lot of people end up in major cities, but it seems so out of the ordinary. Yeah, it's always actually, like,

you never really analyze that until, like, you leave, and you're like, what are we doing back there in Vermont? But my mom was a BC student, and then she went to work in Burlington, Vermont, and then worked at my uncle's publishing companies. You know, she's a writer, but at the same time she was working in publishing, which was in Norwich, Vermont.

and my dad grew up in Massachusetts and was like a definitely New England family and then moved to Hanover, New Hampshire, to start a computer company essentially. Like they were selling like some computers and was like the kind of a local small business. And since his brother was my mom's boss, they met that way. And they moved to Stratford

and they found like a big piece of land of Stratford and built the house there and then had us kids. and we, you know, we, where Stratford has only an elementary and middle school. They don't have a high school. And so they were planning on bringing my brother and sister, my older brother and sister,

to driving 35 minutes over to Hanover every day to take them to high school. So they moved to Hanover to make it easier to live there. And then by the time I was in high school, we had moved back to Stratford. So really just work, I guess, brought my parents there. But a lot of my family members live in the New England area and live in Vermont and Massachusetts.

it so it was kind of like that was where like our family center was. Growing up in the woods is kind of fun because there's you know you can play in the streets, you can play in the woods. You can do. You know, you have a life outside of a cell phone

for sure. You know? But so much culture is being created you know, I would assume that you were exposed to is still being created in major cities. Right. Did you long for a major city? I guess.

I just never knew what it was like. We would go to New York. I think we went to New York like twice when I was growing up, and I had never been to the West Coast. You know, we would go on vacation, but we never went to, like, a city. I'd been to Boston two or three times. Burlington, Vermont was really the only city I interacted with more than,

you know, once or twice a year. So I didn't really understand what was going on. I think one thing about living in a small town and growing up in an area like that is, yes, it's so much beauty. We live right off the Appalachian Trail, and you have these beautiful mountains, and just all this access to nature in the Connecticut River, but also you kind of feel like that's the whole world,

and that's for better or for worse. Being in a small town, you feel like, you know, this is my entire existence, so I need to, like, prove myself here. That's what homesick is about. That's exactly what it's about, and I felt that way. I never had a plan for, like, I just want to be the music guy around here, you know, because this is what I thought the world, like, extended to. And I didn't have the exposure to a lot of different places

to kind of, like, see what I was missing or what culture was being created. And sometimes I wish I could have had a more worldly childhood, so I could have gotten exposed to different lifestyles. I grew up in a very nice, like, upper middle class area and like to complain and find things to complain about and you don't have the context of what other people are going through

in like a city or like a poorer area or like a place where people aren't as privileged or advantageous and it kind of limits your worldview. But I think it also lends itself to like you have to care about people a lot, I think, and you have to like form. relationships at last because these are the relationships that are available to you here. So I think it taught me a lot of good and it also limited me in some ways for sure.

As a musician who has this touring life now, when I grew up, I grew up an hour north of Chicago so we could end up in Milwaukee or Chicago to see a concert and drive an hour and you'd see some big name. Yeah. What exposure did you have to live? live music. Like so little. I think I can count on my hand the amount of shows that came to my area that weren't like niche regional. Like what's your first concert? I went to see Great Big C. And they were awesome. My mom loved Great Big C. And so I went to see them at this like the opera

house in Lebanon, New Hampshire. And I thought it was so cool. And I was like, man, those guys are ripping. And then I remember when I was in the sixth grade, Keshah came to town. And it was like Kesha was fucking huge at this point. It was like that era of Kesha where like, you know, people were listening to Kesha. And like in that first album where it was like TikTok and like all these different songs. And so everyone was like changing their Facebook profiles

to have the S and their name be a dollar sign. And I remember being like, I need to go to Kesha, but I was like a little bit too young. And like my brother made this giant Kesha embroidered sweatshirt. And it was like, it could have been anybody. You know, like in Kesha was great. But like it could have been any.

We had so little, such a little, exposure to live music that the entire town was hyped for like weeks and weeks and it was like the most exciting thing going on ever. I think besides Kesha and Lupe Fiasco came to Hanover like my senior year of high school like I don't have, we didn't have a lot.

And so you were really grateful. And it like, you know, this is kind of a segue to something else. But like when I'm on tour now, like when I pass through a town that I know reminds me my town where they probably get like five to ten acts every six to ten. It's 12 months. coming through. Like, I'm always trying to give them the sickest show ever because they're so excited.

I know what it means to have, like, no one coming to your town and no one caring about playing music in your small town. I try to bring that energy that, like, Kesha brought for us and that, like, the town could really rally around. You said your dad, you know, taught you guitar, your mom being an author, kind of taught you lyrics in a lot of ways. And when you're, you know, how old are you when you first get a guitar? So I get this little red fender When I was Nine or ten

I think my ninth birthday And like It was like this You know It was like tiny little junior Fender Strats And it was a

It was great Like I started playing it I was so bad Like I don't have an amp So I was just like playing On like a Unplugged electric guitar My dad always had this big

Alvarez that I like It would hurt my fingers Did you use And like It was always like his cool guitar And like Looking back now Like my guitars are like

so much nicer than that. And like, Dad, like, you need to get a new car fucking guitar. But, back in the day, that was, like, the nicest thing in the world, like, was that guitar. And I would never play it, but I was always, like, waiting for the day where I got to play it. And, yeah, we had the Beatles songbook, like, the chords and tabs for the Beatles songs. And so he would, like, that's where I started learning. Like, you know, here comes the son and, like, Eleanor Rigby. And, like, those are kind of the songs I was learning, like, really sloppily learning to play. And he would teach me them. And we performed together my first time ever

performing. We sang Father and Son by Cat Stevens which is my favorite song ever but we played it at like so basically in my old elementary school like if you weren't like good enough to be in the talent show like you went and you performed at the old folks home and so we went and played father and son

at an old folks home and like looking back like the content of that song was like essentially like old people don't fucking understand anything like maybe that wasn't the best song to play at the old folks home you're all morons. All right. Thanks for having me. See you later. But that was the first time we performed together.

So he really encouraged you to be in front of people to sing and not just... You know what's weird? It's like I don't feel like I ever got that encouragement for my parents. They weren't discouraging it, but I think it really did weirdly come from within where I was like I want to perform. Like no one else in my family at that point had been like into performing in any way. Like my mom was an author, but she used a pen name, pseudonym. And so...

Why? I don't know. I always wondered that too. I was always like, oh man, you should. Did you ask her? Yeah, I was like, why are you like, why she used a pen name Maxine Anderson, and she had a couple bestselling books. And I guess it wasn't about like that part of it for her was she just wanted to write

and like help other parents. She was writing like self-help books for parents, like teaching your kids about sex and teaching your kids manners, which is always funny because she used like examples from our childhood, like questions we would ask and she used them in the book. But she never wanted, I guess she never wanted that like a claim or like maybe the name recognition. I don't know if I ever got an answer. I should probably ask her that.

Might have been helpful enough before I decided to get to music industry. Well, so it's one of those things. I was in a band for a while, and I was much more honest about myself than my first record deals a solo thing. Then I started using all these details to talk about history and culture and was into that kind of lyric.

And then once I was in a band, I could hide. Yeah, I've always... You know, because I could be like... You know, it's that thing. In music, people are like, oh, man, I love, you know, I love Ariana Grande. I hate Ariana Grande. You're like, wait, what? It's to her music.

You don't even know she, but when you're in a band, you know, someone's like, ah, I hate Limp Bizkit. You think it's like, I don't care. You know, you don't. Yeah. There's like a barrier between you and what the people think about your music. And I think, yeah, I always envied that in other, and bands. I'm like, that's cool.

You got to just be the band. And, like, you went through it together because this shit is, like, lonely. And so, like, having a group of people to at least share the loneliness with might be nice. It definitely feels like you live and die. And, like, also, like, your name is still your name, even if you want to go not be a musician anymore.

I'm like, I'm always going to have this name. And, like, you can't get away from whatever people think about it when you're putting up music as yourself. Do you see a life after, not to jump, but do you see a life after music? I always have, yeah. always prepared for that. I think out of fear and also out of like just

cynical like you know, reality kind of like I can't think of a career where somebody has just been able to like sustain it for like 40 years. Like at some point I'm going to be like older and like maybe I won't want

this anymore. Maybe I'll want to like be a dad or like go work and like do some kind of like social work or some kind of charity work or something that isn't the Noah show all the time. I think that's what I struggle with the most is just the constant

massaging of myself that I have to do and the, for better, for worse, like attention and like, you know, just me talk all the time is exhausting to me. So I do think about a career where I'm focusing on someone else and, you know,

maybe just taking a step away eventually. I don't know when that is, but I definitely think about that, to be honest with you. when you're starting out all you want is the recognition and then the recognition comes and all the other stuff that comes with it

is exhausting. Yeah, no one really, I guess it's like that thing where I used to say if I had a million streams, I would be happy and I'd be like, let's go, or like when I had a hundred million streams

or when I sold out a certain show or, you know, I got nominated for Grammy this year, I got, I'm selling out 10way Park and like I can guarantee you that like it's not, filling any major hole. Like, I'm happy and, like, honestly so excited and proud, and I'm certainly

like proud of how far I've come and grateful as hell for the people that got me here, but, like, it definitely doesn't, like, I don't wake up in the morning, like, woo-hoo! Like, everything in life is sick, you know? So, I think once you realize that that hole is just impossible to fill, like... You're getting that house that you just

got and having your family, like, or, you know, your girl and whatever you're creating, your dog in a weird sort of way, like, you wake up, you Oh my God, this is what it's about. That's what it's about. And then you go and you go to work, even if it's something you love to do. Yeah, there's things that make you happy in the moment,

and there's things that make you feel fulfilled. And I think the things that make me feel fulfilled are worth focusing my attention on. I think it's about my dad would fucking love me saying. He's always expectation alignment. Like, if you go into anything thinking this is going to be the thing that makes you happy, then you're almost always going to be disappointed. I think it's like finding moments where you can feel fulfilled and looking at the bigger picture

and trying to escape the minutia of focusing on this one thing is going to work out this way is where you end up finding real happiness and real fulfillment. It's like being patient with yourself and being grateful. Yeah, someone said that success is managing expectations, which is another way of saying,

if you can lower your expectations in certain ways, or if your goal is to manage your expectations, that's going to make you much happier than anything else. Totally. Because you can't really control the outcome. No, you can't. And like, you're setting small goals for myself. It's always been my thing.

I'm like, I want to get here, then here, then here. Instead of being like, I need to be at this place by now, and you feel like shit if you're not there. It's like, why did I do that to myself? Well, the first goal, let's go back a second of finishing a song. What's your first song? My first song, it was a song about me, being on a boat, like, traveling down the river.

How does it go? I don't know. It was so fucking bad and stupid. I'm like going back and criticizing myself. I wouldn't ask you to sing it if it was great. I honestly would have to look for it. We didn't have voice no back then. I was just hoping that it was like a timeless melody.

I guess it wasn't. There you go. Why did you write it? I wrote it because I got, I was always, I started out doing covers, you know, like everybody else. I learned come as you are. Then I learned these Beatles songs and a couple of like simple plan and Green Day tunes. But I just always wanted to make my own music.

I wanted to like be the one that came up with the words. I loved rhyming. I love like writing stories and I loved like creating characters. And it was a weird like ego thing for me when I was younger. I want to be the one that comes up with it. Like I just want to have it be my own because I want to be like Green Day because they all wrote their own songs. I want to be like the Beatles. They were like they weren't just doing covers like.

they made their own music. And I immediately, like, from a very young age, wanted to be the one, you know, telling the story and making the music. It was just what I wanted to do. And so it had to start somewhere. But it was so frustrating. Even from a young age, I was frustrating.

So I'll listen to, here comes the sun. Or, like, a Beatles song. And then go try to write my own song. I'm like, dude, I suck. There's this idea that, you kind of can't teach taste. And that if you have, you have, the greats are all people who when they're writing first, they are frustrated because they know that it's not great.

Yeah. And that's what makes great writers. Not the one who writes the great song first. It's the one who's like, man, this song is not good enough. Why is it not good enough? Let me write again. Man, this is so, something's great here, but I don't know what it is. And it's the people who have taste that can whittle down that, you know, that path until they're like,

Oh, no, now I got it. Now I got it. That's a great way to put it. I guess that's so true. You have to have the courage to be willing to go back in and make that edit and be willing to look at it like that. It can be really hard to be like, this isn't good. You know, you want it to be good the first time, so bad. When did you start having the wisdom to know that something wasn't, you know, that it was worth going back and fixing something?

I think it was when I first started recording myself. So I, like, would just write all the time and, like, play them. And I wasn't paying attention to people's reactions. I was mostly just like, this is awesome, you know? And, like, I thought it was cool. And I was when I was, like, 10, 11, when I was, like, 12, 13 as I started using garage band and, like, recording little videos of myself, my computer. And I would start listening back and be like, oh, wait, this is terrible.

Like, I need to, like, go and I need to go and look at it again. And I started really getting into, like, at that point, I was getting really into, like, cold play. And that was, like, my big inspiration. I was like, okay, it's not as good as a Cold Boy song. It's not going to be as good as a Cold Boy song. But if I can get it to where I feel like it's getting there, like I was always editing and trying to be something that I would listen to myself. I think that's when I first started kind of self-editing in that way,

which, you know, is kind of a sad thing. Because I feel like it was the beginning of what has been a long journey with perfectionism and imposter syndrome. and just, I don't want to describe it as torture because it's an insult to people that go through much harder things, but it's a painful process of self-editing and self-criticism and doubt, really. Once you start kind of opening Pandora's box

if this isn't good enough, there really is no end to it. I always say I like having written a song. I hate writing a song, but I love having written a song. Dude, it's the best feeling of listening to them in your car and be like, oh, thank fucking God that's over. Oh, my God. I'm not even excited about the song being good. I'm just done with that.

Like, I finished it. Do you listen to songs once they're released? Or do you, or to me, demos that have magic? Then the songs release, I'm like, I'm over it. I have the worst demo I just ever, man. I'm like, we should have put out that demo. And I'm like, I listened back. I'm like, it sounds terrible.

But like, the feeling was so pure. Like, in the studio, you were set an amazing moment where you have it and you're excited and you're like hearing it over and over again and you're excited every time. And then like, by the time the song comes out, you're just like so fucking tired of it. And like, you've heard it a million. times and you've done notes on it and like it's like when you say a word too many times and it starts to not sound like English anymore.

You know you need time for perspective. Like probably the word time is in the definition of perspective. And when you have like co-writers it helps because somebody in the room that you respect can be like, I think we can beat that part.

Sure. But a lot of your songs some have co-writers but many especially when you're starting out are all 100% songs. The only way you really have perspective is if you can go back to it. And the hard thing for most writers is that they're

already under the next song and they don't feel like it's worth going back. Yeah. You know? So that, you know, you don't really give yourself the grace of editing. Yeah, yeah. You want to, I've always wanted to be somebody that can go back and listen to things and come in with the same mindset.

I just feel like I'm always my perspective, like you said, has just adjusted so much from the point that I started the song to where I end And sometimes that's really cool. Because when you start a song, I feel like you're so emotionally involved. And there's this emotional side of it with a story. And you want to feel like you're getting the emotion across. And it's happening to you right then.

And you're writing about it. And it's like just beautiful, like, catharsis. And then when you come back, it's just much more analytical, like, technical angle where you're like listening for inconsistencies in lyrics or inconsistencies in music. And it's good to have that kind of both of the sides of the coin, I think, to like make, you don't want to make any sacrifice emotionally, but sometimes you need to change things later and you can only feel that once you've stepped away from it, like you said.

If you're a songwriter or composer, you have to join a performing rights organization or PRO. Performance royalties are an essential part of your income. If not, your only income. ASCAP is America's first PRO and the only one that operates on a not-for-profit basis, which means the money they collect goes to their songwriters, composers, and music.

publishers, not outside investors, not big corporations. And ASCAP supports you in a lot of different ways, even beyond the royalties. They run workshops, panels, and networking events all the time. They've got tons of resources on their website to help you learn about the music industry. They've even got a wellness program. I really respect that ASCAP is a true democracy. ASCAP members elect their board of directors, and the board is made up of music writers and publishers like you.

They've got over 975,000 members, including our guests, Noah Khan. You can learn more about joining ASCAP at ASCAP.com forward slash why join, and follow at ASCAP on socials. Hey guys, peer music is a leading music publishing and neighboring rights company that has been championing songwriters and artists

for nearly 100 years. Their musical journey began with a revolution, A&R man named Ralph S. Peer, who is widely credited with the first Latin recording, the first blues recording, and, of course, the big bang of country music, the Bristol Sessions. Peer Music has built their company on their unwavering devotion to music creators and performers, and to this day, is still championing songwriters and promoting songs of cultural importance. Peer music represents some of the biggest names in music, including our former guest, Pooh Bear, David Lee Murphy, David Foster, Nothing With These, Gabby Moreno, Chey, the tragically hip and

many, many more. And peer music neighboring rights represents 300 record labels and more than 3,000 artists, including Billy Elish, Imagine Dragons, Martin Garrick, David Gettit, Metallica, Megan the Stallion, Herr and Stromé. So, if you want to learn more about a global music publishing and neighboring rights company that moves with integrity and treats their roster like family, go check out peermusic.com or follow them on social media at peer music. Our good friends at Chartmetric have all the data you need to power your music career.

From playlist placements to stream counts to follower demographics and many more. It's never been easier to understand how your artists fit in the music industry and how they can grow. Chartmetric does the work for you, providing actionable insights and visuals on their up-to-date global data that covers over 10 million artists. and 100 million songs. So there's no math required. Use it to find out things about your favorite artists and any of the artists and writers on this podcast. Plans start as low as $10 a month.

Learn more and get started today at chartmetric.com. The fast forward to Republic, then Mercury, whatever, but the fast forward to being sort of discovered. you know, you're a kid who's figuring out how to perfect your craft. Obviously, this could be another three hours of a detailed conversation, but how do you get from, okay, I think here's a song that I'm going to start posting

to sort of, quote, being discovered. What is that process like? Yeah, there was a big gap between the time that I started like, I was making music since I was eight or nine, but it was like, I didn't have a lot of confidence, and I was also really ashamed and didn't want to show it to people.

And so it took, like, a lot of years from me. Were ashamed? Yeah, I just thought that I was, like, lame to make music. Like, I just thought that it was lame. And no one else I knew did it. Did your siblings do any music or anything like that? No, not at all. So you're just the kid in the room that's just like...

Yeah, like everyone I grew up being, like, I was a soccer player, and, like, I was... It was, like, cool to play sports and, like, cool to be a really good athlete. and I was always like trying so hard to be a good athlete. Like someone should have just pulled me aside and be like, dude, you're so slow. You're so. Like it's not going to happen.

But I like wanted that to be, I wanted to be like, I guess like my friends and the people that I thought were cool. And so I was making music. I was like this is weird thing that I do by myself. And it secretly makes me feel really good. When did you sort of in a weird sort of way come out as a musician to these people? It was my high school talent show when I was a freshman. I had finally gone through puberty after like middle school

just like voice cracking like no discernible tune or pitch at all and then like I weirdly got like a little bit of like a rasp and like started really come into my voice on my own and I sang the scientist like Cole at my high school talent show and like there's an old video of it

and you can literally hear people being like whoa he sings like what the fuck and instead of what I thought would happen which is like everybody that called me like a loser like people were like really happy for me and it gave me kind of like a feeling of identity which I would think it was really lacking for so much of my childhood like I just didn't really know who I was

and it was really insecure and finding music brought me to like some sense of self-security getting sort of recognized as oh this guy has talent first of all when you say that you went through puberty as a freshman I just assumed that you were an eight year old of the beard and long hair

So this is already, this is already news to me. But, you know, people recognize you for singing a song that they already know. When do you start saying, okay, I actually am a writer too. You know, sort of like levels of introducing it and that moment. And how nervous are you a nervous performer? I was, yeah, I think I'm like nervous. I was, I'm always excited. but I'm always definitely nervous.

At that time I was really nervous, like, before the talent shows, because my first time ever doing it. I just, like, over practice and over-prepared to the point where I'm probably, like, damaging my voice, just, like, warming up so much and, like, singing it so many times that it's, like, not good by the time I actually do it. But, you know, the transition from, like,

performing covers to, like, being comfortable showing my writing was pretty quick after that. I feel like that started to kind of, like, I really took a lot of confidence from that moment, and then that started to, you know, post my songs on, like, Reverb Nation at the time. And then I would bring them to these older high school kids who were making, you know, like EDM music, essentially. And so they were like, it was kind of like Avichy Wake Me Up era.

And so I was like, I'll be like the, I'll be the Alaw Black guy. Like I'll bring in the folky acoustic song and a few guys at school and some of the ex-alum alumni from the school that were doing like this EDM stuff would like put a drop on it. We would produce it together and we make it together. And that's kind of how my original music started getting presented to the world. world, like, in this, like, EDM folk vibe. And, you know, people started liking the songs. Like, for me, they were doing really well. I was on SoundCloud, and they were getting, like, I don't know,

a few thousand streams, but that was always, like, the coolest thing ever. And, you know, they would play them occasionally before, like, they played it before a high school basketball game one time. Or, like, you'd hear people driving by the parking lot listening to the song. And that was, like, this really cool moment of, like, man, people were, like, figuring it out that I could write songs. Yeah, and they're choosing to listen to it. Totally.

They had the opportunity to listen to other music, but they liked it enough. Yeah. How did you get involved in Republic? What's the moment where it's like, oh, this isn't just a hobby? Yeah. Because obviously I know you didn't go to school. You started pursuing this, you know. Yeah.

So I was doing this EDM folk song thing. And I did one song that was like much more edge year in and like didn't put this, you know, EDM production on it. I had the producer that was helped me with it, like, kept it more stripped back, and that song started to do really well. It wasn't something that I would hear playing in the parking lots because it didn't really have, like, a hype element to it. It was very, like, soft, like, a team style song. But it really started to do well. I think it had like 50,000 streams in SoundCloud, and I was on my way to soccer practice, and

I got an email from, or SoundCloud, like, whatever, equivalent of DM, from Drew Simmons, who was, was like a manager of foundations management. He was working in New York, and he was like listening off all the artists he worked with. And it was like, really did feel like a moment of like, oh my God, this is like my first real connection

to the music industry ever. And the next day, Ben Adelson at Republic hit me up and was like, you know, I was talking to Drew about your music and suddenly I want to call with both of them. And like it's just getting like really real. And this feels like this amazing opportunity is like kind of developing before me. And for a long time, for a few weeks,

I thought it was probably fake and that I've gotten scammed a few times by different songwriting competitions where they say they're going to give you a big prize or you were a finalist and I was kind of expecting that it was going to be fake and then Drew came to New Hampshire to meet my parents and it got really real

and we're talking about not going to college and going to L.A. and recording demos and going to labels and playing songs for them and it just felt like the beginning of the movie about the guy that gets famous where they come to his house and tell them they're going to be a star and all that shit. It's really like on the nose. It was great.

Yeah, and those guys are amazing where, you know, shout out to Ben, like, who's been here before. You know, they're really good at allowing an artist to be an artist and not trying to like, they're into the development process. And if they're going to sign somebody, they're going to sign them because they like the thing. not because they're going to reinvent this vehicle. I think a lot of times

people think the music industry is sort of manufactured and they've done a really good job at finding artists that are not manufactured. Totally. I think knowing that now

and realizing how lucky I was to have those people be in contact with me first, I think like I had no idea I would have taken like anything. Like I had no any in the music industry I didn't have a single connection to it

like no family. that could have brought me in. So I would have jumped at any opportunity and the fact that I got paired with a manager and a label that I'm still with seven years later, eight years later is not lost to me how rare that is. When, you know,

it's one thing getting signed, it's another thing even just having something released at all. And obviously, like, it changes very quickly. Like, your success goes from, you know, 50,000 streams on SoundCloud to at least a gold record with hurt somebody which might be platinum now.

I don't know. It's a big record. But like getting, starting to put out music that's getting a response on a bigger scale, did your insecurity go away or did it get magnified?

I think there were parts of me that were both, I think, you know, like a combination of the two. Like I feel like I felt justified because I was signed and having some success to think that I had some talent and some potential you know and like I wasn't just like completely kidding myself you know but I think the imposter syndrome really started to like kick in and like realizing how rare the opportunity was and how fortunate I was to kind of get this early exposure and to get signed and to like be in a

major label like it started the like weigh on me about like how I couldn't lose this like I really don't want to go to college I really don't want to get a real job like I just want to like stay here and so I always felt like I was fighting against being dropped. And the truth was I never was even threatened with being dropped. In my head, I was like, if my next song isn't really good, or even if this next session isn't really good, like it's all going to be over for me. Like, that's the mindset I went into like every single show

and every session, less thinking like this is all, I have one opportunity, you know, to do this. I mean, it probably kept you focused in a really competitive way as dark as it may have seemed. When the credits are really interesting, because there are collaborators in the beginning. There are 100% songs, but there's also these co-writes. And co-rates with really established writers

and produced by really big producers. That compared to this last album, where the bulk of the songs are 100%, one producer, is much more like classic, sort of like, this is Noah at its core. Why did you make the decision to either collaborate or not?

And why did you make the decision to not collaborate? On this last record? Yeah. Was that intentional? Yeah, I think it was like this album was really born out of like an exhaustion of like the process that I had been doing for a long time.

I think like a lot of that insecurity and that like imposter syndrome and like going into sessions and looking the person up on Wikipedia and being like, oh my God, I got to write a song as good as like this choice of on song or whatever it was, you know? Like, I always felt like I was auditioning.

And it just drove me crazy. Like, it drove me crazy because I was leaving, hoping that I made the other person think I was good instead of leaving with like, hopefully, a really good song that means a lot to me. I was always like trying to impress. I think my priorities were misaligned. And like, it hurt me, I think.

I think if I'd gone in being like, let's just make a great song, and if we don't have one, we don't have one, I might have, like, impressed more. Instead of, like, trying to people please and live up to some, like, false expectation that I thought people might have of, like, what my songwriting was or how good I was, or if I deserved to be in the room or not.

I think I just felt like the imposter syndrome, like, I was feeling started to overshadow, like, the ultimate goal of, like, making good music. It was more just, like, trying to, like, satisfy some, like, need for me to be liked or loved by, like, the people I was working. with. And that became really tiring, as you can imagine, like, every day, like, waking it up and, you know, hoping you lived up to one expectation. And that speed dating part of the new

signings and all that stuff is really detrimental, I think, to many artists where in a previous incarnation of the music industry, you know, a label would say, we're going to put this artist with this producer, go right, go do the album. and that's that's sort of the end of the conversation and when you're a new artist here okay cool yeah but now there's this weird sort of I think this is out of the insecurity

of the labels and A&R people where they feel like well we need to have a hit so let's just put them with a bunch of hit writers and they'll deliver the hit and it becomes less about the artistry and development in that way and becomes out of like it and you know

to A&R people's credits, it's like it's what the culture is. And it takes it takes a strong artist, a strong manager, and a strong label to start saying, no, we're just going to put this artist with one person and go suffer through writing an album

by yourself and be honest. Yeah, I think there's like two ways to look at it at a certain point. Like you need to try different people to see what works and what fits. I think it's also a data-driven. and R's looking at data. They're like, this guy has a hit with this kind of art.

And you're like in this kind of space. So work with him and like the numbers say that you should have a hit to. And like, I don't think it's ever that simple. I'm glad that I met a lot of the people I met. Like I met some lifelong friends and some collaborators that like helped me a lot and gave me great advice. I think the volume of sessions I was doing and like the amount of time I was dedicated to meeting a new person every day.

Like it never really allowed me get into like a rhythm. It does help you hone your skill in some ways. where you're learning from the best. Totally. And you learn, oh, yeah, that's how you, you know, the compositional elements of the, you know, the newest album versus the earlier ones, just the fact that you did that alone, a lot of that, I'm sure, are some of those co-writers and producers and A&R people are sitting on your shoulder,

even if you're writing them alone and struggling through it. You know, you don't forget the, No, you learn from it. And I'm grateful for those tools. I'm grateful for that time. I don't think I would have gotten to a place where I was able to write a lot of these songs by myself on Stick Season without those experiences.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Without trying it, I think I do realize, like, the strengths I have, like, I can sit down by myself and write a song, but having a curator there or someone to bounce things off of, as you said earlier, so important and, like, so helpful to have, like, just at the very minimum, like, an objective outsider that can be like, I'm listening to what you're doing.

Like, it's not as good as you think it is, or it's not as bad as you think it is. Like that's... Because I'll throw out ideas all the time. Like I... You know, when I recorded the, like, original version for Stick Season, when I recorded it on TikTok,

I was literally about to just, like, throw it out, and I would... I've never thought about it again. I would have never seen the song again. I would never played it for anybody. I mean, I'm glad I didn't. But, like, that song could have just not happen if it was just me alone and my thoughts.

And, like, I'm not always, like, a reliable narrator for what's good or bad, as much as I like to think that I'm, like, a consistent... Like, I have good taste, or like I can tell. My emotions get too in the way of me realizing the truth and something that I've already said.

And that can be really hard. Yeah, 500 million streams later or something like that. When the collaborators that you have are so diverse, you know, Zach Bryan and Lizzie McAlpine and Post Malone and Casey Musgraves, Hosier, like Sam Fender, it's amazing how many, they're all so different from each other. is that I just have this this vision of you on a text chain

with 20 great artists and everyone's like hey I don't know who wants to be on this song like I don't know how does this happen I think who's seeking this out are these DMs? It started with a DM I DM post Malone in 22 summer being like hey I have this song that I think you'd love man

I think you'd like it. I could hear you on it. We didn't have no greater design for a collaboration album or anything like that. I was like, wouldn't it be cool of like Post alone saying this song? I think it's fun. And he responded like two months later

and was super into it. And I think when Post did that and when that kind of version came out and that like validation was brought to that song, like it became possible to like bring big artists onto these tunes. Like, you know, next was Casey. And she was like, yeah. And I'm like, oh shit.

And then it was like hosier and, you know, Sam and Lizzie and like all these amazing artists. and now Brandy and, you know, I think we're announcing really soon that Gregory Allen Isakov was a hero of mine. It's going to be on a song. So it was really just like, who are my favorite artists? And maybe they'll say yes.

And like, I mean, I think we had one or two people say no. But besides that, it was like, all these artists were just down to do it. I think it works. Paul McCartney or? Paul McCartney wouldn't fucking do it. No. You could probably get Katz Stevens. That would be so fucking cool, man.

I mean, you could probably hit him up. I think... We got James Taylor featured on a song I did with Charlie Puth at one point. It was one of those things where it was just like, I don't know, let's reach out to James Taylor. It sounds like that kind of song. I've got a great James Taylor story if everyone wants to hear it. It's hilarious. Sure.

I mean, can we hear it now? Yeah, I'll tell you. It's so funny. It's not like he's... I don't know him at all. I'm sure he's a wonderful guy, but it was just a funny moment. So I was supposed to play Newport Folk Festival. And, you know, we were looking for, like, you know how they do, like, some legendary icon artist will join you.

and we were like James Taylor is New England guy that'd be awesome and so I wrote him this my manager's like you have to write him like a handwritten letter or else like he won't respond and I was like oh okay and I have like I was in Kuman for like six years trying to figure out my handwriting it's so bad

like it physically pains me I hold the pencil like a caveman and so I was like writing this letter out it took me like literally two hours like trying to diligently write every note and like stay within the margins and sent it to James Taylor didn't hear anything back

and like oh darn all right I guess we won't have James Taylor for Newport folk I mean, sure he's busy, who knows the letter got to him, whatever, icon legend. I had to drop out of Newport Folk because I had a really bad vocal injury. And so I couldn't do it. I was right after Red Rocks and had to cancel it was a bummer. But who else filled my time at Newport Folk besides James Taylor? No way.

So he ended up being the one that sang in my slot, which I just thought was hilarious and ironic. Yeah, but I honestly wish I could have gone to see him perform. because he's a legend, but it was just funny that, you know, I was hoping he'd join me and ended up replacing me. By the time this comes out, we'll know how the Grammys shake out. How do you feel about this kind of recognition? Is that a moment of like, I've made it, or are you sick of the moments of I've made it

and you're steadfast? And, like, you know, did you make it when, you know, the first, when you release a song on SoundCloud, that all the people in high school are listening to? Or is this the moment you've made it? Or is this, have you still not gotten there yet? No, I think like the Grammy is like an exception

to the rule for me. Like, I weirdly have had like sustained joy from remembering that I was nominated for a Grammy. It's something that's... I never like grew up wanting... Or I never like, in my goals for myself in the music industry, was ever like, I want to be a, like, I want this award

I want this recognition specifically, but a Grammy was always one that I was, like, falling to sleep practicing my Grammy speech or thinking about what it would be like to be there. And it was something that, like, one of those silly dreams I had that I always wrote off as, you know, fantasy. And so when it has come true that I've gotten nominated,

I do feel like it's a victory for, like, that part of myself that was, like, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, dreaming of, like, success and dreaming of a moment that, like, everything was. be worth it. And, you know, win or lose or whatever happens, like, it can't be taken away from me that I got nominated and that, like, I got to achieve that dream for me and bringing my mom with my mom's goal for me too.

And it's one of those things that has just, I pinch myself every time I think about it. And, like, I do feel genuinely happy when I think about getting to go to the Grammys. What's next? I'm not talking about the next, you know, the next album. what is success to somebody who's already reached such heights at this point in your career? Yeah, that's a good question. I think the moment that I was most happy in the past two and a half years was when I was making the album, when I was recording the album and had written the songs and was making music that felt so right and the moment felt so right creatively and like the environment felt so honest.

And it wasn't about like, I was, I wasn't, doing it because I thought it was going to be a huge hit record or anything. I was just making it because it was so finally gratifying for me to make music that felt like me and felt like I had completely control over it. I think that's what's next for me is finding that moment again

for myself and finding that level of happiness in the process. Because the rest of the stuff comes. How do you do that with the engagements you have right now? The touring, you just got back from Australia, you're here for Grammy Week. I mean, where do you find the time?

to go and do a 15 song album or whatever That's the hard part right now man I'm really struggling with that part because the creative side to me is so important and I haven't really been able to access that just it's not enough time It's not enough time I'm not in a grounded place

Like I'm flying from Presting to Presting from show to show and it's a blast and I'm grateful but like there's no real human experience and all of that What's your social life like outside of music right now? I don't really have one man I'm just working all the time, like always traveling.

I'll see friends when I can, and I have so many awesome friends that will come to shows. But like I said, like, if you're in this environment, like, nothing is real, right? And you're not in the same playing field than anybody else. Like, they're either coming to one of my shows, and I'm like, all right, it's the NOAA thing tonight. Like, you're at my show. And it's hard to kind of escape that and, like, get down to a level place with people and, like, be able to connect with them on their lives. And you're like, in the stress of playing a show and in the fog of after the show.

or the tiredness of traveling the next day. And touring is like a very specific lifestyle. And it's certainly not like a real job. I'll never describe it as like, I'm not like working in the coal mines or like working in a cubicle all day, you know. But it is like a unique lifestyle that's really hard to kind of step away from

until you are like having weeks off where you're able to like come back to reality and go have some real human being problems instead of like touring problems. And I haven't had enough time to like find that ground. to find that like social outlet. It's definitely been like a process for me and something that I'm working through right now.

Yeah, it is a process. And it's okay. I feel like it's okay to, the fact that you know that that's, that that's something to seek out is a huge step in the mental health game of touring. It's really hard when you're in the throes of it to remember that there's life outside of it.

You said something about the fog, after the shows. I've toured with some amazingly big artists, and after a show, they come, and they're like, they get into that bus, and it's like, they just start, like, they try to decompress. Yeah. And you've just been performing in front of tens of thousands of people,

or whatever, a thousand people, or 100 people. Yeah. And you're supposed to, like, sleep at night? Yeah. Like, it's not natural. Like, there's no way after the Fenway show. You're going to have a good night's sleep. No way.

There's no way. It's like you find yourself, it's crazy the contrast because like on stage, we're playing arenas now. So we're doing like 20 to 30,000 people at a show. And then suddenly you're just like somewhere watching a TV and you're like completely alone. And you're like, whoa. Like was that, did that happen earlier? Like it's not like a transition where people like half of them leave. Then you have a quarter of the people left.

And then like there's 60 people and then you're alone. It's like that and then just that. And so I understand why so many artists, are like, I got to go get fucked up and go party. I need to go keep this going. Because it's really difficult to step away like that. And I don't drink on the road. And I'm like...

Especially with your voice. My voice, man. That's really the main reason. But you are going from 100 to 0 really quickly. And that's a hard thing to do. It is a hard thing to do. Trying to explain to people who think touring is fun. And you're like, no, no, no.

It's fun when you're the basis. Oh dude, I'm always like You guys are so lucky You're sitting back there playing the songs Dude they go They play the song They get to feel all the energy of the crowd They can stand out on stage

And look at the crowd The crowd will go crazy Yeah look at that bass is go And afterwards he can drink all he wants He can drink before the show It doesn't matter He could even sing the harmonies poorly And no one really gives a shit

But when you have to sing and carry a show The anxiety that goes along with Just making sure your voice can maintain it and you have to speak quietly. It's the worst. You can't eat anything. You fucking literally porridge, like all over twist style,

dude, so that your voice doesn't get all fucked up by acid reflux. I'm just, like, steaming all day and, like, doing just, like, stuff that, like, I just want to not take care of myself. Is that so much to ask? Like, do I have to always eating well

and, like, making sure I'm not talking too loud and, like, doing vocal warmth, but not warming up too much. It's a pain in the ass. It's an all-day anxiety event. And then you go, And what you said before is the fact that you're talking about doing the scientist at a, at a, you know, your high school freshman talent show and he warmed up too much and your,

and your voice was, you know, raspy or raw or whatever at that point. And you assume your adrenaline's going to be the antidote. And you go, but like that's the same, the same thing you go through when you're in high school. for anybody who's listening to this who's in high school or college and they're playing a show and they've all this anxiety they're going to perform for 15 people

it's the same exact feeling when you're doing it in front of 10,000 people and the pressure isn't 10,000 fold it's like you still have the same kind of anxiety of like did I overdo it am I can't I sing this song in front of people

yeah it's kind of cool though that like your anxiety society is the same level. It's like, don't worry, it doesn't get worse. It just still feels like shit always. But also the happiness and the feeling of gratitude generally is about the same too. When you perform in front of 100 people that loved your performance,

you can feel that love and you can feel the 10,000 people and it isn't 10,000 fold. It's not to say it's not more, but when you feel the love of an audience, you feel the love of the audience when it's one person and you feel it in front of 10,000. And it's like there's something about that that's beautiful too. Yeah. If you never get the opportunity of performing

in front of 10 or 20,000 people, that's okay. You'll still actually feel the love generally the same. Yeah, yeah, true. It's surprising how similar that is. It's just like it's validating for both people to feel like what you just said meant something to them.

and it meant something to you. Like, that one connection person to person is enough. Like, it means that you are alone and that you are, like, a human being with a shared experience. And that's super special. For me, like, playing in front of the, yeah, 10,000 to 20,000 people, unbelievable experience, like hearing them sing. So cool.

But, like, I do walk off stage playing for 100 people that I do for 10,000 people just because you're, like, doing something together. And that's really cool. And that's what you do. All right. So last segment, I'm going to just list five. things and tell me what comes off the top of your head.

All right. Stratford. You know, best town in Vermont, my favorite place in the world. I think there's like a Stratford in like every state, but the Stratford, Vermont, gorgeous. It's like Springfield or something. Yeah, a little bit.

There's a Stratford, all over New England, but Stratford, Vermont is the most beautiful place in the world. I miss it so much. Let's go with Paul Simon. Best lyricist ever. really mastered that specific storytelling with a relatable universal feel and sound which I definitely have tried to emulate a lot of my career.

Yeah, Grace Land is like, it's everything to... Yeah, it's the best. Let's go with folk music. We'll do modern or folk pop, modern folk music. Where we're at currently. Storytelling, I think like anthemic is is like still like enthemic choruses

and you know big moments but I also think like maturing like I think there is like a level of like folk pop music has gotten to a place

where people are able to talk about serious things and like tell stories that are specific and like still have them work and that's really cool so it doesn't have to just be like a big banjo chorus

or whatever you know it can be something real and meaningful with like upbeat music in the background it doesn't have to be like one thing which I think is cool TikTok.

Delete that question, but I'm going to keep it right now. TikTok is, you know, double-edgedged sword. You know, like, it's an amazing tool for self-promotion and for exposure, but it's also like something that artists rely on, that the industry relies on and leans really heavily on, I think, and puts a lot of stock and TikTok and maybe too much. I think young artists, I just feel bad, man. Like, I feel bad for, like, I was lucky,

where I grew up, kind of came up in a place where, like, Spotify was just kind of getting big. And SoundCloud was, like, at its peak. And you could find success and an audience in a different way now. And having to be on TikTok all the time just seems exhausting for these kids to be constantly comparing yourself to other artists and other people and to be looking at your numbers as if that's, like, what truly matters. And it seems like the music industry is saying that is what matters. And that's a shame because not everybody is trying to be an influencing self-promoter.

Like some people are just amazing musicians. that can't market themselves or don't want to or want someone else to help them with that. And it feels like all the honus is on the artists to be social media's avons. And I think that just brings people into a world that takes them away from their talent and their craft a lot of the times.

I think there's a middle ground to be found and that there is a place where artists can get to where it works. But a lot of artists don't have access to that. And I think that's too bad. It's weird because you know MTV was television was that

you know all of a sudden Elvis came out and people who were ugly were like oh shit you know music videos are that where all of a sudden it was like wow these people were making little movies and I'm sitting there doing this weird live thing

I don't know what music videos are yeah yeah and adjusting with what's current is important it was important in the 50s. It was important for being able to perform live on radio in the 20s.

Being on TV in the 50s. Being on videos in the 80s, being on TikTok now, but rest assured that there will be something next. Yeah. And it's like I think it's important

to be good, to be willing to at least try. Totally. You don't have to be good at or great at it. Even your TikTok can be about how bad you are at it. Yeah, I think if you can be yourself, right? Yeah, be yourself. I think if you look, you can find beautiful things

and you can discover some amazing music and you can discover a community and it's easier than ever to find a community which is a hard thing to do in music. Yeah, I think give it a shot. But also remember that at the end of the day, it's about the music and it's about your songwriting and it's about what part of this makes you happy

and if that's not in it, that's not in it. That's okay. All right. Last is your family. It's just my whole world, really. My family have supported me, and this has not been easy for them. There's been a lot of attention, a lot of press, and a lot has been asked of them beyond just being, you know, themselves or being my family, and I will always be grateful for them taking a lot of that in stride

and rooting me on and choosing to support me, even though it might mean, like, you know, my little brother gets stopped in the street, and people ask him if he's my brother. And my mom said to come to the Grammys on me. And I sang songs about her divorce in my album. And them being grateful, I'm sorry, graceful.

And the way they've handled all that has bent so much to me. And they've just been there for me the entire time. Like they've supported this dream of mine for so long without question. And they're just my complete foundation and my rock. Well, thank you for doing the podcast. I am, you know, it's great to have you on. I'm obviously familiar with the music by choice. Oh, thank you.

Man, that's a huge thing. That's what I was saying. It's one thing when you know people are listening to it for whatever reasons. But the fact that the songs that are intimate, that the lyrics mean something, and then they're having the kind of reaction that they're having is because we all can relate to somebody going through something. We can all relate to specificity. It can take us somewhere that we're, you know,

it can take us out of our normal lives. And you're doing that for people of different ages, backgrounds, all, the whole thing. And it's just really impressive. But I think, you know, you have a good head on your shoulders. I'm really excited to have redo this interview in two years on the, you know, another couple albums or three years or four years, whatever it is, because I think you're going to be a leader in this business for, you know,

for a lot of musicians who are coming up and a lot of musicians that are already here. Thank you, man. You're killing it, man. Keep doing it, please. Thank you so much. Yeah. Thank you for your time, for your questions and being thoughtful. And I think people, like, it helps shed light to young artists, like what it's like to go through at the highest level, like we were saying when we sat down today, like the biggest artists, you know, those stars that you love and the stars I grew up loving, we're all going to the same things. Like, it's a cool thing to have like some shared struggle. And I hope that

young artists listening and watching young songwriters or anybody realizes that we're all kind of alike and that there's hope. So I appreciate you giving the opportunity to talk about my career and I'm going to be listening to your podcast for a long time. So I'm excited to skip over my episode, but I'm excited to listen to the one after that. Yeah, absolutely. I have a totally. tendency to make sure I forward it every time I talk. Yeah, right. All right, man, thanks so much.

Appreciate you, man. Thank you. This episode is produced by Joe London, mega house management, and myself. See you all next week. I'm Ross Golan, signing off.