Something is happening here.
The crowd knows it too. Many of them paid exorbitant ticket prices to be at the venue of just over 900 people, packed wall to wall. It seemed everyone felt as if they were early to the rave for something special. Take the guy next to me, who turned to his friend and said “this must be what it was like to see the Pixies in the ’80s.”
Lead singer Camereon Winter was largely bereft of words and smiles, barring a couple of short jokes between songs. This was no issue for the crowd at the Paradise Rock Club, who filled every gap with yells and cheers.
The first few songs were performed well, the opener — “Husbands” — especially, but the concert truly began five songs in with “2122,” the opening song off Geese’s 2023 album, “3D Country.” The energy only increased when the band dove into a cover of Boston rock classic “Roadrunner” in the middle of the song. From then on, it was off to the races.
Winter’s lost voice 23 shows into a grueling tour not only prompted his continuous drinking of tea throughout the show, but also turned the chorus of 2023’s “I See Myself” into a crowd singalong, with Winter unable to sing. The subsequent performance of the lead single from that album, “Cowboy Nudes,” was also lively, with drummer Max Bassin’s breakdown in the middle of the song being extended to surely triple the length.
And all it took was the opening note of “Au Pays du Cocaine” to unleash the largest crowd reception of the night. This energy continued into the performance of the album’s lead single, “Taxes,” and its closer, “Long Island City Here I Come.”
Unbelievably, the peak of enthusiasm, both from the crowd and from Winter itself, did not come until the sole encore performance, “Trinidad.” Each repeated chorus of “There’s a bomb in my car” prompted screams and shrieks from Winter and with elbows and loose arms flying in the crowd, causing a sea of people retreating to the edges of the venue.
All show, Winter’s odd charisma and vocal performance shone. He doesn’t quite sing, nor does he shout. Instead, he lives between the two, moaning and wailing, as if he doesn’t even know what sound will come out next. Geese’s track works the same way — always on the brink of falling apart, yet miraculously holding together.
It’s been a season of hyperbole for Geese. They’re hardly the first to be compared to the Strokes or labeled ‘rock’s next stars,’ but there’s a reason these cliches stick: we want to believe them. We want to feel like we’re witnessing something at the beginning. And honestly, it’s fun to get swept up in the hype. So, whether it’s true or not, let me say it anyway: Geese might just be the band of our generation. Maybe.
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