Brooklyn’s Geese, an oddly controversial band (more on that later), made a triumphant homecoming on Sunday afternoon at Governors Ball, ripping through a ferocious and precocious set of post-punk, always sounding like they were a hair away from a trainwreck.
But this is no garage band: Cameron Winter is a remarkable vocalist who can go from Thom Yorke-ian murmurs to heavy metal screams in the course of a syllable; Emily Green’s guitar is more complex than it first appears; drummer Max Bassin is a powerhouse, balancing Latin rhythms with hard rock pomp. It takes a lot of skill to appear this rough around the edges.
Playing the city’s biggest music festival for the second year, the quintet from Park Slope made a convincing case for a true headliner turn at Flushing Meadows in Queens next year.
Rather than blasting into a straightforward rocker, Geese kicked off with the off-kilter “Husbands.” “You don’t have to waste your time” Winters bleated/crooned. “Getting Killed,” the title track from the acclaimed 2025 album, was glorious: Green channeling Radiohead over South America-via-NYC beats a la TV On The Radio. “Yeah, I am getting obsolete,” Winters sang. And “I am being fucking destroyed by this city tonight/ I’m getting killed by a pretty good life,” while bassist Dominic DiGesu rocked a “Go New York, Go New York, Go” Knicks T-shirt and team logo flags fluttered at each corner over the stage.
“Crusades,” from 2023’s “3D Country,” was a slice of Velvet Underground and Television. Winter, who kept the between-song banter to a minimum, said, “This song’s about a snake” in introducing “Cobra,” a loose-limbed and lilting track from “Getting Killed.” “2122” included a detour into the hard psych-rock track “Interstellar Overdrive” by Pink Floyd.
The musically beguiling and strange “100 Horses” found Winter in one of his inscrutable Bob Dylan moments, with lyrics like “All people stop smiling/ Once they get what they’ve been begging for” and “All people/ In times of war/ Must go down to the circus.”
After “Horses,” the frontman said to a fan (ostensibly), “What did you say? I can’t hear you — let me make use of this catwalk.” He walked partway down the path and back. Up next was “I See Myself,” an R&B tune, and the country rocker “Cowboy Nudes.” It included a short drum solo.
“Bow Down” opened with a machine gun snare drum pattern before swerving into a somewhat INXS-eque bit. During a drum break, Winter ventured down the catwalk again, a bit farther, and threw what was reported to be a Labubu doll into the audience.
“Au Pays du Cocaine,” with it’s “No Surprises”-sounding music box guitar twinkle, was next, then the melodic “Taxes.” Shambolic drums provided a foundation for Winter to croon “I should burn in hell” and “If you want me to pay my taxes/ You better come over with a crucifix/ You’re gonna have to nail me down.”
“This one’s for the kids,” he deadpanned. “Thanks for coming everybody.”
And Geese ended where they began their set: pure weirdness. “Trinidad,” the first song on “Getting Killed” and the last song of the set, is mostly Winter yelling “there’s a bomb in my car” and things like “my daughter is dead,” over some relatively jazzy music that gets louder and heavier before it crashes home.
Geese’s set was a victory lap, intended or not. To some of the trollier members of the commentariat, Geese has been given too much too soon: coveted, big-money festival slots, an SNL appearance and breathless critical acclaim — so they must be an industry plant. They’re giving the industry too much credit: this is not the type of music any sort of establishment pushes for profit, even though it’s proved to be commercially viable. But if I’m wrong, and “the industry” is reading, please plant more acts as exciting, strange and fun as Geese.
Photo by Rich Fury/ Courtesy of Governors Ball
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