Getting Killed is in; cult-classic Geese at a sold-out Thalia Hall
Chicago, Il- Oct. 15, 2025
Photo by Nico Beauchamp.
Geese are a band you hear, or hear about, before you understand. With something so casual and comfortably human about it all, their music is a nod to a rock revitalist movement that actually understands what people want to feel, and the first of two sold out shows at Thalia Hall prove that exactly.
They’ve become quite the obsession, the kind that are and championed by a cultish base of other musicians and fans alike. Teetering between irony and agony is where their sound lands, where you’ll find crowds so happy to scream about bombs and getting killed with a grin.
Their most recent record Getting Killed marks a moment they fully step into the pandemonium they’ve been circling for years, and it's not going unnoticed. Cinematic, unashamed, and alive, the 11-track record propelled their world tour of the same name, with supporting act Racing Mount Pleasant for the North American Leg.
Racing Mount Pleasant: seven members, countless instruments, and an overflow of charisma to them. Multi-instrumentalists in the truest sense, each song an intricate balancing act of sound. Dual saxophones, trumpet, violin, and percussion weave into a performance that feels both extremely deliberate yet uninstructed and spontaneous.
Their self-titled track was a centerpiece of their act, proving to be quite introspective, courting the subversiveness of Bon Iver and taking on the correct dreariness of Big Thief. Multiple members present themselves as layered vocalists throughout the set; working together to make a song rich in strength and you can tell that that’s where they shine. Before their final songs they take a moment to speak on the Chicago atmosphere and state that they will be making the move to the city in the near future. With a crowd as welcoming as Thalia Hall, they were already home.
Out of the darkness appears Geese, fronted by Cameron Winter, someone the audience will come to know as a man of few remarks. No words wasted, his only opening turn of phrase, “Oh, shit.” As he steps into the lights, he doesn’t offer a deliverance of a grand statement or a rock-star-studded address, just a greeting thats more or less a caveat.
Emily Green, Dominic DiGesu, and Max Bassin, joined live by keyboardist Sam Revaz, drive the set like it was their last. There’s barely a moment’s pause between songs; most songs bleed together in one long, whirlwind meditation. As a dynamic group, they run through the majority of the album from start to finish, a feat that is a mountain climb in front of them, although their presence is majority nonchalance. “Husbands” kicks off with a slow but steady bass line, as though it was trying to escape itself, and right into “2212,” one that crashes in with a chaotic grace that is sort of their defining sound; part Elvis, part Zepplin, and mostly existential crisis.
“Getting Killed,” the title track, arrives as an early declaration in the setlist, closed by two crossed spotlights that frame Winter in silhouette. The refrain trails with a painstakingly honest final statement: ‘I’m getting killed by a pretty good life,’ landing somewhere between confession and punchline. The crowd seems to understand this notion, hundreds of voices meeting his. Flaring lights shimmer beneath the band as the crowd sings back to them. With hands in the air, “I See Myself,” serves as a true point of connection of the audience.
A single bongo, a cowbell. Together they become metronomes of the night through “Cowboy Nudes” and “Islands of Men,” both sharing a gravity that is love through a playfully fatalist perspective. “Space Race” drifts by in a mumble, bleeding into personal favorites: “Bow Down” and “Au Pays du Cocaine.” They feel like opposing mirrors, the first, a lawless surrender to ego death; the second, a quiet, self-soothing acknowledgment of transformation.
The group gives way to their sprawling closer, “Long Island City, Here I Come.” On record it stretches to 6:37, but live it feels infinite. Looping, a twisting, a tunnel of noise and light. Bassin counts them down in a shouted three, two, one, and the band collapses in perfect sync with the crowd the same, breathless but with a probable feeling of satisfaction.
They were gone as soon as they arrived, the stage sitting empty for just enough time for the crowd to endlessly chant the longing for 10 more songs.
Then, the encore: “Domoto” where Winter found himself wandering from one side of the stage to the other, hands covering his eyes before the band slowly joined him, returning as their own community on stage. Through “4D Country” and a final encore of “Trinidad” leaves the crowd engaged, complacent and scratching a final itch to mosh.
Geese leave no goodbyes, just true emotion and restless energy. You can purchase tickets to the rest of the “Getting Killed” tour here.
Photos by Nico Beauchamp.
