Review: Geese at Hellbender

In the past week, the discourse on social media surrounding music created with generative AI has reached new levels of idiocy. Tech bros have boldly claimed that "Spotify, Apple Music, and streaming in general is over" while also speaking of a near future where everyone listens to a fully personalized, infinite stream generated for each individual listener. 

Rightfully, these sociopaths have been met with a wave of hostility intent on shaming them into oblivion. Many have made the point that a huge part of what makes music special is shared culture. Individualized streams would further destroy what was once a monoculture and leave us in isolated bubbles, making it more difficult to connect with others. Not to mention that AI-generated music is soulless. 

Regardless, we will likely see slop continue to infest the internet, flooding the streaming platforms. In response, society will yearn more and more for emotionally cathartic concerts, even if they come loaded with the social anxiety of dealing with large crowds.

Social anxiety be damned, I found myself at Hellbender on Sept. 30 with a few thousand other people, transfixed by recent indie rock sensation Geese. All that talk about AI music had me embracing the idea of being part of a huge crowd, sharing in a cultural moment.

When I last saw the NYC-based quintet perform, opening for Vampire Weekend at Asheville Yards in June 2025, the group was on the verge of its explosive rise. The rain-soaked set featured a handful of cuts from the breakout LP Getting Killed, but the album was still a few months from release, so the still-strong performance lacked the benefit of familiarity. They were still a band more used to playing smaller stages like The Grey Eagle, where they'd headline later in the year.

In the interim, the group has ascended toward becoming one of the biggest rock bands on the planet. Along the way, we've seen them perform on late-night TV, headline music festivals, and even watch their sudden fame become a conspiracy theory.

Most importantly, they've continued to get better, which couldn't have been made clearer than during the set at Hellbender. From the moment Cameron Winter and his mates launched into opener "2112," they sounded like the monolithic headliner they've become. Like the best bands before them, the group has continuously experimented with its arrangements, unwilling to settle for playing the songs as they sound on record, and the songs take on new life as a result. Even deeper album cuts like "100 Horses" and "Half Real" have been rebuilt into dynamic crowd-pleasers, while "Bow Down" has become a totally propulsive juggernaut.

The ability of skilled musicians to reimagine their music for a live audience and play off the crowd will forever set humans apart from machines. Just as important, there's a catharsis that occurs when a huge crowd collectively hears a song that strikes deep within its emotional core. That happened several times during Geese's set, perhaps most noticeably during the hit ballad "Au Pays du Cocaine" and, of course, "Taxes."

Winter's voice has been a point of contention for many listeners. It's not beautifully smooth like Jeff Buckley's, but it's unquestionably human and affecting, much like Thom Yorke's. I'm not sure generative AI will ever be able to replicate the withering, straining tension of a human adept at drawing from the depths of their soul. I certainly don't want to exist in that future.

We appear to be at an existential precipice related to the arts and shared culture. The threat is infesting the virtual realms we've grown accustomed to in the past few decades, but we've got options. We can pull the plug, step away, and seek out live performances and handmade art.

And who needs the slop anyway when we've got a band like Geese just getting started?