“Getting Killed” by Geese

Release Date: September 26, 2025

Length: 45 minutes

Getting Killed, indie band Geese’s third studio album, feels like a culmination of lead singer Cameron Winter’s most unfiltered thoughts, full of his anxieties, fantasies, and impulses spilling out without much concern for neatness or fitting into any one box. From its opening moments, it becomes clear that the album wants to jolt the listener awake–on “Trinidad,” , chill bass lines and powerful, jagged drums collide as Winter suddenly screams, “There’s a bomb in my car!” It’s startling, especially for anyone expecting something restrained or low-key, and it sets the tone for an album that’s both ironically self-aware and absurd in the best way.

“Cobra” floats along as a whimsical soft-rock track, but its lyrics cut sharply. Winter switches between cruelty and longing, telling an unnamed woman she “should be shame’s only daughter” before pivoting into a plea to dance forever. On “Husbands,” instrumentation pulls back even further, but bitterness remains. “Will it wash your hair clean when your husbands all die?” Winter asks sourly. It’s almost possible to live his grievance through his words.

The album’s title track, “Getting Killed,” leans fully into, well…noise. Electric guitars crash against art-rock drums as Winter shouts, “I can’t even hear myself talk,” nearly swallowed by chanting, distorted female backing vocals. It’s overwhelming and yet manages to still be beautifully constructed. The song captures the spirit of the album perfectly, making it clear why it lends its name to the record. “Au Pays du Cocaine,” the track that propelled Geese into the “indie mainstream”, stands out for its emotional clarity. Winter’s voice takes center stage here, raw and exposed, carrying a melancholy that feels universal rather than experimental. Lines like “Baby, you can change, and still choose me” and “You can be free…just come home, please” come off as unforgivingly sincere, and resonate exactly for how unguarded they are.

The album’s final stretch sharpens its emotional edge. “Taxes” balances defiance with humor, as Winter jokingly likens himself to Jesus—“You’re gonna have to nail me down”—like he’s mocking himself. By the end of Getting Killed, the listener feels like they’ve delved straight into Winter’s confessional spiral. It’s messy, honest, cruel, and most importantly, a joy to listen to.