Getting KilledE

The Artist

Geese are a Brooklyn-formed rock band who started as a group of high school friends recording in a basement, only to find themselves swept into the post-pandemic indie spotlight when their debut leaked out into the wider world. Fronted by the increasingly theatrical Cameron Winter, whose yelps, croons and Dylan-meets-Jagger phrasing have become the band's signature, they pivot album to album rather than settle into a lane. Their early work nodded to post-punk and dance-punk, but 3D Country swerved hard into ragged Americana, gospel and classic rock pastiche. Winter's solo record Heavy Metal deepened his reputation as a songwriter willing to be strange in public. Getting Killed arrives as their third album proper, with the band leaning further into the unhinged frontman-and-bar-band energy they've been chasing.

The Album

Getting Killed was recorded with producer Kenny Beats, an unlikely pairing on paper given his hip-hop pedigree, but one that pushes the band toward rawer, drier, more present-sounding takes. The album captures Geese as a live unit, with arrangements that feel tracked in the room rather than assembled in a grid, and Winter's vocals frequently sit right on top of the mix, warts and all. It follows the cult success of 3D Country and Winter's solo turn, and was released into a moment when guitar bands with personality were finding real audiences again. Thematically it circles paranoia, devotion, money, violence and the absurdity of modern American life, filtered through Winter's tall-tale narrators. The result is loose, funny, occasionally unnerving, and uninterested in polish.

Listen For

The looseness of the band. Listen to how the rhythm section breathes on tracks like "Cobra" and "Husbands," with fills and tempo nudges that suggest live takes rather than a click track.

Cameron Winter's vocal range. He moves from croon to yelp to outright preacher within single songs; "Getting Killed" and "Bow Down" are good places to clock just how many voices he uses.

Dynamic builds. Several tracks start small and unravel outward. Pay attention to how "100 Horses" and "Half Real" shift in intensity rather than relying on a standard verse-chorus climb.

A standout lyric moment. "Au Pays du Cocaine" leans into surreal narrative imagery, and Winter's phrasing is doing as much storytelling as the words themselves.

Recurring themes. Money, power and survival haunt the record. Notice how "Taxes," "Trinidad," and the closer "Long Island City Here I Come" each frame those ideas from very different vantage points.