The first time producers Aaron Dessner and Gabe Simon met was around the 2024 Grammys; the next was last spring, in Dessner’s upstate New York backyard. As Dessner puts it, that second meeting, at his Long Pond studio, was the pair’s “first immersion” into working together on what would become Noah Kahan‘s epic 2026 album The Great Divide. There, with Kahan, they wrote three The Great Divide songs.

While the two had different degrees of history with Kahan — Simon collaborated on Stick Season; Dessner had a golf, soccer and getting-to-know-you writing session with him at Long Pond — the two united to help Kahan bring cohesion across the album’s 21 songs (including its deluxe edition). They spoke about why it was “brilliant” of Kahan to pair them up.

Aaron, what made you want to work closely with Noah?

Aaron Dessner: I was a fan, like everybody, of Stick Season and I had seen him play [at] Boston Calling [in 2023]. [My band] The National was playing after Noah and it was in Boston, an epicenter of his fanbase. And I remember all the dudes in The National were watching and everyone was singing every word and it was just amazing — and also classic The National, we had to go on after that and we were like, “Womp womp.”

Gabe Simon: The curse of every great indie band.

Dessner: And then when I got to record Gracie [Abrams] and play some guitar and stuff on [the Stick Season (Forever) remake of] “Everywhere Everything,” of course you get inside something and you feel things … Any songwriter, if you’re a fan and make music every day like we do, you always dream of how you would bounce off of it.

Simon: I remember, this was probably August right before Noah went up to work with Aaron, and Noah came to me like, “Dude, I’m going to work with Aaron Dessner.” He was so excited. We had done “The Great Divide” early on in the process and then he was in this weird figuring-out-what-the-f–k-is-going-on phase. He had been doing some writing with outside writers and it wasn’t going well and it was the first time I saw a glimpse of him being excited about bringing in another collaborator. It was a perfect stimulus that we needed to start rounding the corner.

Dessner: And from the other side, it was always clear that Gabe and Noah had been doing heavy excavation, basically, with “The Great Divide” and “Doors” and these huge songs that took a lot of effort to figure out what they were, and also pushing into ­places that were different, and Noah had nerves about that. Because you guys had made a really classic album that this was coming after, and that’s not the easiest thing for anyone.

Simon: It’s a total b-tch. Eventually, when we got together in the fall of last year, we were starting to inch toward this cohesion.

Dessner: I think that was a brilliant decision of Noah’s to basically combine us at different points, especially at the end because we had to bring it together somehow. At the end of the process, we took everything down to Nashville where Gabe often works at Gold Pacific [Studios].

Simon: Aaron and I got to have a couple of days just him and I, really looking under the hood and getting on completely the same page, which I think is something that is really lost in the collaboration process when you’re making records with more than one producer.

You two and Noah were the sole writers and producers on the angsty “Downfall” and “A Few of Your Own” and the intimate “Lighthouse.” Gabe, you’ve said Noah wanted to write “angry dark s–t,” but these came out instead … Do earlier angrier versions exist?

Simon: It’s funny: “Orbiter” was a song that he started writing when we were doing the Forever deluxe. We had a demo of “All Them Horses” and then he started playing this emo-grunge version of “Orbiter.” The only thing he had was, “I circle you-u-u-u-u-u,” and we were all like, “Yeah, pretty cool, man.”

Dessner: Nine times out of 10, a song like that would not be what it is. But there’s a weird magic of his fanbase and him as a songwriter that people are listening to. I don’t think anyone, including Noah and definitely the label, could have seen that.

Simon: The sad angry dark s–t, you have not heard. But at the same time, you have “Downfall,” arguably one of the most f–ked-up songs, period. But it’s done in a way that has a levity and almost feels more Fleetwood Mac, so it doesn’t leave you feeling like Noah is a d–k for saying what he’s saying; it has a joy to it.

Noah does balance heavy lyrical concepts with melodic production — and his live shows really highlight that.

Simon: You have these people who are dancing to songs like “New Perspective” and “The Great Divide” with lyrical concepts that are really hard and heavy, but they’re doing it with such joy. I grew up in a churchy community and I’m not really in that space anymore, but what I loved was that sense of people being connected and able to sing something together and have a spiritual experience. And there’s something about the way that Noah opens up and is vulnerable about himself — he’s self-deprecating, hilarious but also there’s not a night that he’s not going to cry on “Willing and Able” or [have] a pin-drop moment for a track like “Orbiter.”

Why do you think The Great Divide has become bigger than Stick Season?

Simon: Stick Season took three years to become really big and I think that now, it’s like, “Oh, it’s always been big.” But it wasn’t. And people are still really liking Stick Season, and then you double down on it with a record that gives them about 20% more of what they want, but about 80% new narratives, new directions, new intentions, new storylines. It’s not about a place anymore, it’s about the people he connects with. You can get lost in the lore of that. And I think what was so cool about it was watching these people go crazy on the internet talking about the way the songs connected them in different ways and different therapists breaking down their meanings. It’s no longer about music — now it’s about culture and people, it’s about humanity and society as a whole. I think that’s why it’s bigger.

I’m assuming there’s still music on the cutting room floor. What would your hope be if there is?

Dessner: It’s a curious question because I don’t know that [Noah] writes bad songs. But I also think a lot of these songs are ­specific and there tends to be a conversation happening.

Simon: We had a whiteboard [that] had all the narrative ties. Some people have whiteboards for “put tambourine here.” Our whiteboard was like, “Is this talking about your brother, your sister, your friendships, your marriage? Is this talking about yourself?” If a song didn’t fit fully — even if it was a banger — it did not make that cut. And I think that shows how willing Noah was to just focus on the narrative, because he’s definitely not going, “This is my last record.”

This story appears in the Oct. 3, 2026, issue of Billboard.