Is Noah Kahan the man responsible for the rebirth of stomp and holler love? What we perceive as love may be the hangers-on of collaborative efforts which kindle exposure to wider audiences. Sam Fender and Hozier elbowed their way into collaborative works and so too does Brandi Carlile. You’re Gonna Go Far feels like a self-congratulatory pat on the back before the journey has begun. A sense of inevitabilities pours over this track, dependent on its vocal pairing and acoustic wonder. A naturalistic, seasonal appeal falls on Kahan and Carlile and they must keep up appearances for as long as they can. Fender did, Hozier does it already and the muddy strengths of Unreal Unearth make for an obvious collaboration. Kahan pushes on, the additions to his Stick Season release.
Keep the fire burning. You’re Gonna Go Far has such a stripped-back opening to it. Praying here and the dead-end destinations which push through a flurry of tongue-twisting terms there, Kahan bleeds emotive expectations through this as Carlile plays second fiddle. She shores up the vocal works, the extra bits and pieces which need repetition to truly seal themselves as constant reflections on a world filled with bitterness. There is a sickly selflessness in this one which does not settle right. This implication of having a loved one far away from the troubles of the day so they do not have to deal with the slump in mood, the panic at the core. Where the strongest of relationships lie, be it friends or family, is in those hardships. For You’re Gonna Go Far to push those people away as an act of self-sacrifice is a way to relay struggle as a period of selflessness.
More than not, it is not true. Pushing those loved ones away and drafting in Carlile for a few spotty appearances throughout a Mumford and Sons-like terror is one thing, but to use those country-adjacent tones as a way of walking the road of independence at a time when unity could not be more needed is a fascinatingly poor shock to the system. Kahan undermines the intimacy which comes from folk music, the sense of togetherness found in the best of them, and instead hopes to whittle away at striving for independence, the power which comes from facing hard times alone. Nothing could be further from reality, and it marks a major letdown which exposes an instrumental slop.
Drifting country acoustics which flicker between heartwarming and vacant copies of the tender tones not set out by Kahan in those earlier moments, Carlile soon takes the reigns, and You’re Gonna Go Far turns into a track of survival. We cannot do so alone, and it takes time to realise this. Familiar country tones are peppered throughout, and the small-town mentality and the desire for a new experience after a lack of change in the formative years turns into a hoedown-adjacent desire to break free from the stifling days of living in your birthplace. But instead of a feel-good farewell, a wave off into that distant, rising sun, comes a guilt trip like no other. Some people will miss you with genuine warmth and those will hope to keep you there to maintain a crooked status quo. You’re Gonna Go Far falls into the latter camp, a curmudgeonly track which shrugs its shoulders at potential lying beyond your doorstep.
