We talked about Cameron Wintera few weeks ago. As a solo act, he has been
performing raw, intimate, but also somehow cryptic and abstract singer-songwriter
music since 2024, releasing the
Live at Carnegie Hall
album and his debut solo album
Heavy Metal.
My family and I saw him live this week with his band,
Geese. Geese is very
different than his solo stuff, in a great way. They are a 4-piece from Brooklyn,
NY and they are young. They're all best friends from high school, the classic
"we should start a band" story, but it actually worked. Their
debut album and early
material was actually recorded when they were still in high school.
Geese is actually a big reason I'm writing this newsletter, because they remind
me so much of what music used to be like. Or at least what I think it was like
(I've always had the digital download option).
In today's day and age, virality trumps a critic's opinion.
Pitchfork can say all they want to praise a certain project, it can have a really high
AOTY or RYM
score, but it's not going to beat out the viral TikTok song for a spot on the
radio (or top of Spotify's algorithm, if that's the modern day radio).
I understand my oversimplification of idealizing how music used to work. I know
it wasn't without its tradeoffs (you had to pay for a physical copy without
even knowing if it was good?) but even at its most subtle, this difference has
a big ripple.
A few decades ago, you listened to the radio or your own physical music. Either
way, you're appreciating the music more. You're listening all the way through
just because it's what's on. It's what you have. Then, you are able to develop
a very different taste: that patience unlocks a lot of boundary pushing music.
Talking Heads are a great example of this. They were a household name in the
80s. Can you imagine something like
Remain in Light
releasing today? If you're unfamiliar, listen to
Once in a Lifetime,
which is probably the most accessible song on the record. There's no way to know
for certain, but I would imagine Talking Heads, who really pushed the envelope
of experimentation, would be too much for people on first listen. People
wouldn't have the patience for it off the bat, so it wouldn't really make its
way into the algorithm and would slowly get buried. Sure, it'd have its niche
fans. But a household name? Forget about it.
Geese are one of those bands nowadays that is so good with so much of that
envelope-pushing ingredient it makes me think how they'd fare in a pre-algorithm
environment. Except they actually are bleeding into today's algorithm.
And they sounded absolutely amazing live. Cameron Winter's voice is so distinct
yet so controlled, Emily plays guitar with such precise gentleness, and the band
chemistry is off the charts. Seeing them live reminded me of how good their From
The Basement set is.
From The Basement is a
YouTube channel who hosts live performances of some of the most legendary music
acts still around today. This Geese performance was their first video in years
and, for me, came out of nowhere. All this music is on streaming, but the mix of
this live performance is perfect and the band is so good live this is a great
point of contact for them.
I thought the album/single version of
Trinidad was great,
but the live performance feels
more natural. It's one of the couple heaters in this set, alongside some of
their slower stuff.
Au Pays du Cocaine is
a slow one, and probably the most essential listen of the whole set.
I'd highly recommend this full set because it's so well produced, and of course
because of the sheer talent of the band.
Geese is shockingly experimental for how much mainstream attention they're
getting (still far, far from where I think they'd be pre-algorithm) and it makes
me so happy to see them easily sell out one of UT's bigger concert venues.
If you know someone who'd love this set, forward them this email. That's how I'd rather music got around anyway.
Across the Pond
Speaking of young indie-rocking quartets, let's talk about
Westside Cowboy.
They're something like a reflection across the pond of Geese (based in
Manchester), where their music is more revivalist than experimental.
They're compared a lot to
The Velvet Underground
with fuzzy guitars playing these sharp melodies. The drumming from Paddy Murphy
is explosive but disciplined, and I love, love, love Aoife's interlocking,
almost yodel-like vocals.
My first thought when this album came out was how much it reminds me of
Interpol's
Turn on the Bright Lights.
They're not really the same genre, Interpol is much more post-punk to Westside
Cowboy's more straightforward punk sound, but Westside Cowboy does this thing
with their music that makes it sound so... emotional. Not the vocals or the
lyrics, but the instruments.
Turn on the Bright Lights seems to somehow put the emotional weight of the
songs in the guitar and bass. This album does it in the guitar and drums. I
can't tell if they're doing something technical to sound like that, or if it's
just the raw hunger of a young band.
↗
2026
It Goes On
Westside Cowboy
indie rockalt-country
This album stays in my rotation because it's just so easy to listen to. It was
produced by Loren Humphrey, one of my favorite producers lately, he made it sound
so alive. I hear a ton of Velvet Underground on
Dobro and
Paperchains, Dobro
being more subtle, calm, and refined and Paperchains being more rocking, chimey,
and energetic.
Kick Stones was the
lead single, my introduction to the band, and it's a slow burn that really shows
off what each member of the band brings to the table.
Patchwork is another
more tender slow burn.
My most listened to track is
Pin Up Boys. It's
groovy, and the hook is so catchy.
I could point to what I love from all these tracks, but I'll limit myself to one
more.
Coyote is led with
Aoife's vocals, and it paints a devastating story of the environmental cost of
human progress. I absolutely love, in my interpretation, it's not passing blame
explicitly on a single party, because the narrator knows they too are part of
the problem. The classic prisoner's dilemma.
I've mentioned
mary in the junkyard on
half of these newsletters, but I really cannot get enough. The haunting lyrics
of this one, with Clari's folky croon, paint a picture of denial.
New Lucy. I presume this is a B-side from the
latest record, but it's
one of my favorite of their songs. They're really letting the autotune falsetto
do what it does best.
I'd heard of LUCKI, but never expected his music to be anything special. As a
backhanded compliment, I was right in my expectation. But for some reason,
although the production feels juvenile and the bars feel phoned in, something
about his music has been attached to me this week.
I knew this song sounded familiar when I heard the faint drumming preshow at a
concert, I Shazamed it and have had it in the rotation since. It's very firmly
from the Jordin Sparks, early Rihanna era of R&B. The drumming alone is enough
to add to my playlist.
That's the desk this week. Reply and tell me what's on yours.
