Singer/Songwriter Noah Reid really knows-a how to read a room

 

Noah Reid

Solo Sessions Tour

May 1, 2025

The Kent Stage

Kent, Ohio

Photos and Review By Robert McCune

In the first stop on his “Solo Sessions” tour, charming Canuck Noah Reid brought an intimate set to The Kent Stage that delivered what he described (and more):

* Stand-up comedy, sitting down at a piano;

* Wacky stories about celebrity and celebrities, including a few about “that show you all already know about,” the much-loved and awarded Canadian sitcom “Schitt’s Creek,” on which Reid played Patrick, the serenading beau of David Rose (played by Dan Levy), a role which remains his greatest claim to fame, though as he says, he “can still go to the grocery store, no problem;”

* A little bit of “Noah Reid: Amateur Night,” as he bravely trial-and-error’d a few new (and as yet untitled) songs, including one he says he had “never gotten all the way through” on stage before (he did this time, while finding, losing and finding his way again through the lyrics and chords);

* A feeling, sometimes, that he was only there, on stage, at the front of the room, after some serious, persistent and perhaps shady cajoling by his family to play a few songs for this little gathering—that family being us, the fans and audience. 

None of that is criticism. Reid himself admits, with some reluctance and remorse, that a performance he was guilt-tripped into by his 90-year-old grandma at her assisted-living community turned out to be one of his favorites—despite essentially blacking out from stage fright, grumblingly declaring he’d never play music again, and being asked after if he knew any polka.

Truth be told, this open expression of vulnerability, humility and his humor about it all lent a richness and specialness to this show—a sense that we, the audience, had been invited in.

Comfortable in denim and a little high on his own supply (wearing his own merch, a stylish green “Solo Sessions” ballcap with his initials embroidered on the back), Reid first tickled the ivories, and funny bones, by playing a little “All By Myself,” an Eric Carmen cover, while teasing to the effect of “wouldn’t it be crazy if I played that whole song?”

Weaving stories and song, he set up “Left Behind,” from his 2022 album “Adjustments,” with a lark about literally being last on the bus to the Emmys red carpet. Stories about touring and being sidelined by the pandemic segued seamlessly into angsty and hopeful anthems “Road Again” (“Songs from a Broken Chair”) and “Hold On” (from his early-COVID-era release, “Gemini”).

With only a half-formed setlist to start, Reid gloriously ad-libbed for the majority, at one point (ill-advisedly) taking requests from the crowd. He tortuously teased that famous “Schitt’s Creek” serenade of “Simply the Best,” only to pull out the rug by admitting he has fallen out of love with playing it. Instead, he substituted a cover of Joni Mitchell’s “Case of You,” tributing his homeland of Canada with a song that he said is a kind of spiritual sibling of “Simply the Best,” wrapped up in his emotions from that time.

For a two-song encore, he paid off several well-laid Neil Young namedrops by covering his “Natural Beauty,” which blended into his own “American Roads,” both heartfelt lullabies to the kind, compassionate and resilient Americans he says he has met in his travels.

Kindness and empathy, of course, are not a purely Canadian concoction, but Reid simply oozes with the signature maple-syrupy-sweet blend of “Sorry, let me just get out of your way, there,” and the hockey-great-Gordie-Howe-inspired rallying F-U call of “Elbows up!”

A loyal contingent of Noah Reid fan-clubbers, from parts far and wide but none of them (that I talked to at least) Canadians themselves, sported maple leaves on tees in solidarity—and even gifted me an honorary club bracelet, with charms memorializing an interaction with Reid at a prior live performance when, called adorable for his accordion playing, he retorted tongue-in-cheek: “Don’t call it adorable, it’s fucking rock ‘n’ roll!”

Sometimes you find your “community,” and sometimes your community finds you—or rather, tracks you down, strips you of all you think you can’t live without, breaks down your ingrained privileges and interior barriers, and pulls you in kicking and screaming like a town with a funny name that your dad bought as a joke. How you get there doesn’t matter as much as how it makes you feel to be a part of it: Not just welcome, but loved …

And … though Noah may have, for the time being, fallen out of love with playing it, and many of his fans (including this one) surely hope he finds and falls for it again … it must be said:

Simply the best.

Robert McCune is a full-time journalist, part-time photojournalist, and aspiring rock

journalist. Follow his journey on Instagram at every_thing_after_photo.