A milestone birthday for the country, Rolling Stone’s inaugural music festival in New York’s first capital, rainbows that gave way to fireworks over the Hudson, and a Noah Kahan headline set? If there was ever a perfect way to spend the Fourth of July, I now know where to find it.
Over the years, it seems Noah Kahan has become synonymous with both fall and the lingering remnants of an East Coast winter. His immersive ballads trace the long, winding roads of his home state of Vermont, and the sometimes excruciating passage of time that comes with the changing of the seasons. In the days leading up to the release of his latest album, The Great Divide, I had many-a-conversation about how his new music couldn’t possibly be as (beautifully) devastating as his last. I was, of course, proven wrong.
The Noah-Kahan-radio-aided drives my family often takes to Vermont in the winter looked quite different from the summer morning bus ride I took up to Kingston—which I learned earlier this year was the very first capital of my favorite state—on Saturday, though the soundtrack was exactly the same. Noah sings about winding roads, mountain towns, front porches, and the sometimes excruciating growing pains that come with the passage of time. The things that I lost here, the people I knew...
All of this is to say that experiences have a way of changing us. Before this weekend, Noah Kahan’s music always brought to mind crisp autumn air, bare trees, and the first snowfall. Now, I think I’ll always associate my favorite artist with summer—with the Fourth of July, fireworks over the Hudson, and the unmistakable smell of sunscreen lingering long after the sun has gone down.
When Rolling Stone first announced its inaugural Stateside Festival, it described the event as “a Fourth of July on the Hudson.” An Americana music festival that felt as much like a holiday weekend as it did a concert, bringing together folk, indie, and country artists for a day of live music, local food, artisan vendors, and fireworks on the banks of the Hudson River.
The festival’s home—Kingston’s historic Hutton Brickyards— was the perfect (and, in my opinion, the only) place to celebrate the semiquincentennial. Unlike many festival experiences, especially in New York, the atmosphere was remarkably intimate. With fewer than 5,000 attendees spread across the sprawling riverfront grounds, the scenic Hudson River setting created an environment that felt almost impossibly idyllic.
All across the festival grounds, attendees lounged in lawn chairs, stretched out on blankets, and wandered between the grounds’ two stages, essentially letting the music come to them. The typical sense of urgency that greets most music festivals was nowhere to be found, and it reminded me more of something reminiscent of a Fourth of July picnic or a gathering of old friends.
The morning began with a performance by BeBe Stockwell on the main stage, followed directly by Hudson Ingram on the Scout Stage. Stateside solved one of the biggest frustrations that comes with most music festivals: having to choose between artists you want to see because of overlapping set times. Instead, performances were staggered between the two stages, with no two artists playing at once. A short, easy walk connected the stages, making it remarkably simple to catch every set without feeling rushed.
The afternoon rolled on with stunning performances from Bo Staloch, Derby, Arcy Drive, Michaela Anne, Sydney Rose, and Calder Allen before the skies opened up. The passing storms rolled in just as quickly as they rolled out, leaving behind the familiar smell of summer rain and rainbows that soon stretched across the Hudson.
In between sets, the festival settled into an easy rhythm.
Vendors poured iced coffees, attendees perched on riverside rocks with their feet dangling over the water, children paddled by on paddleboards, and boats slowly drifted up the Hudson so their passengers could listen from the river.
More than 20 Golden Retrievers, part of Hertz’s “Gold Squad,” wandered the grounds, happily accepting pets and stopping for photos as they made their way between picnic blankets and lawn chairs.
The aforementioned rainbows welcomed Gigi Perez onto the stage, her performance serving as the calm after the storm in more ways than one. Taking the stage shortly after the weather delay, her warm, powerhouse vocals and stripped-back acoustic set immediately quieted the crowd.
“The rain and the lightning couldn’t stop us,” she said before launching into some of her biggest hits, including “Sailor Song,” “At the Beach, In Every Life,” and even a cover of Lana Del Rey’s “Summertime Sadness.”
There was something comforting about the way her voice carried across the festival grounds as the clouds gave way to blue skies once again. She—and Noah, who would soon follow—proved more than worth the wait.
When I first saw Noah at Madison square garden in the summer of 2024, I was enamored more than anything about how immersive his performances were. From the flashing lights of “Dial Drunk” to the falling, red and orange colored leaf shaped confetti, it’s remarkably easy to be transported into the worlds within his equally remarkable storytelling.
His set, and the Stateside crowd and atmosphere, of course, channeled this.
Taking the stage in a jacket that was most definitely not needed, Noah jokingly told the crowd he wanted to make this “the most depressing Fourth of July of our lives” before launching into a stunning 75-minute set.
Fresh off the release of The Great Divide and in the midst of a sold–out stadium tour, he made the crowd of nearly 4,000 people feel just as the festival had all throughout the day, like they were gathered in someone’s backyard rather than along the banks of the Hudson. New favorites from the album blended seamlessly with beloved classics, each one met by thousands of voices that knew every word already.
As the opening chords of “Stick Season” rang out—the song that transformed Noah from beloved artist into one of the defining voices of a generation—it felt inevitable.
He has often relished in what the song means to the people who found themselves in it, and standing there as the festival’s grand finale unfolded, it was hard to imagine a more fitting closer. Moments later, fireworks burst above the Hudson River, illuminating the same sky that had been filled with storm clouds just hours before.
Whether it’s a ride home, an alibi, or simply the soundtrack to the least depressing Fourth of July of our lives, it’s nice to know that, somehow, anything we need, Noah Kahan will provide.
