The desperate rush to anoint new kings of rock’n’roll has been ongoing ever since the rise of The Strokes, a band that Geese are often described as the heirs to, a quarter of a century ago, and led to many false dawns. Here, though, is a band for whom none of the hype feels contrived or try-hard, either from the band or their legion of devotees. We didn't need to look very far, in the same way the heirs to The Stone Roses' throne came from Manchester in Oasis; Geese hail from New York, the same city as The Strokes.
‘Taxes’ is arguably the band's biggest single so far: a ready-made festival and arena anthem, built for the biggest stages and a chorus that has already been sung, screamed, and shouted across the world. It is a track that functions as a masterclass in controlled volatility; it begins with an almost primitive, tribal drum pattern and folk-inflected acoustic guitars that feel earthy and grounded. This soon gives way to a sprawling, chiming guitar topline that feels like a direct descendant of the ‘The Second Coming’ era of ‘The Stone Roses’: it is a sonic transformation that feels earned despite the song’s brisk three-minute runtime. The guitar work doesn’t just chime; it sneers with a Britpop confidence that feels both vintage and entirely fresh.
There is a palpable sense of spiritual warfare happening within the lyrics: Cameron Winter juxtaposes the bureaucratic banality of the Internal Revenue Service with the visceral, blood-soaked imagery of the New Testament. When he delivers the line about being nailed down with a crucifix, it is not just a clever quip; it is a roar of defiance that feels both dangerous and strangely holy. His delivery is key here: he shifts between a vulnerable, almost conversational sigh and a raspy, preacher-like intensity that commands the room. The song captures the feeling of a man pushed to the brink, where the weight of existence and the demands of the state collide in a moment of psychedelic fever.
It amazed me at just what they manage to do in the confines of a three-minute indie pop song. Starting with those tribal drums and folk-like acoustic guitars, intertwined together, the track eventually blossoms into a shimmering festival anthem that possesses a gravity few modern bands can replicate.
Throughout the whole of ‘Getting Killed’, the sense of spirituality and menace comes with each track; however, on ‘Taxes’, that menace is sharpened into a hook that is as infectious as it is unsettling. It is a track that manages to be both deeply personal and universally resonant: a rare feat for any band, let alone one still so early in their journey. The layers of falsetto backing vocals add a haunting, almost angelic quality to the background, contrasting beautifully with the grit of the lead vocal.
With ‘Taxes’ acting as such a massive, accessible anchor for the record, do you feel it helps ground the more experimental "rambling preacher" moments found elsewhere on ‘Getting Killed’?
I'll be the first to admit that I joined the Geese party late. I'd seen the band's cover of New Radicals ‘You Get What You Give’ on social media and passed it by. Then, when doing some reading, I found that the NME had crowned ‘Getting Killed’, the band's third album, as their album of the year.
I thought I'd give it a listen, and well! It's an exceptional record. There are a few standout moments: ‘100 Horses’ gallops with a cinematic, widescreen intensity, while ‘Bow Down’ and ‘Husbands’ lean into a grittier, more percussive energy that demands absolute attention. The title track ‘Getting Killed’ provides the record's spiritual heartbeat, and ‘Trinidad’ acts as a showcase for their technical fluidity, shifting shapes with a grace that suggests a band far beyond their years.
There’s so much going on in this album that it feels like it would have been easy for the five-piece to lose sight of the bigger picture, yet for all its abrupt shifts and intricate details, ‘Getting Killed’ somehow doesn’t ever feel like there’s too much at play or like its creators aren’t in complete control.