Listening to Getting Killed as a first real introduction to Geese, the album immediately announces itself as hazy, loose, and deliberately off-balance. It doesn’t rush to impress or pull you in with sharp hooks or obvious peaks. Instead, it settles into a woozy, half-lit headspace and asks you to sit with it. That commitment to atmosphere over immediacy is the album’s defining trait—and ultimately the source of both its intrigue and its limitations.

From the jump, Geese make it clear they’re chasing texture and mood more than traditional songwriting payoffs. Early moments like “Trinidad” feel restless and shape-shifting, drifting in on low-end bass, lightly tapping drums, and guitars that sound slightly misaligned, as if they’re pushing against one another rather than locking in. When the jazz-leaning horn flourishes surface, the song veers into avant-garde territory, constantly toggling between restraint and sudden bursts of noise. It’s ambitious and clearly self-aware, but it also borders on self-conscious, as though the track is more invested in signaling experimentation than forging an emotional connection.

That tension between ambition and engagement runs throughout the record. When Geese pull things back and let the warmth come forward, the album feels more grounded and confident. Songs like “Cobra” benefit from tighter structure and gentler touch, with soft keys and a simple rhythm that create a nostalgic, almost comforting atmosphere. The vocals sit low and unforced in the mix, allowing the song to unfold naturally instead of demanding attention. There’s a similar appeal to the heavier, slower groove that defines “Husbands,” where thick bass and deep, hypnotic drums anchor the track. The slurred, layered vocals and fuzzy production give it a lived-in, late-night feel that suits the band’s strengths far better than their more restless detours.

The title track aims for something more haunting and atmospheric, layering shimmering guitars with hovering backing vocals and dynamic but controlled drumming. Its quieter passages—filled out by bass and tambourine—are easily its most effective moments, letting the mood breathe and settle. Still, despite how polished and evocative it sounds, it never fully locks into something memorable. There’s a sense of familiarity to the ideas at play, as if the song is circling ground that’s already been covered, leaving it pleasant but ultimately underwhelming.

Where Getting Killed shines most is when it finds a balance between strangeness and clarity. “Islands of Men” stands out by leaning into simplicity and playfulness without abandoning the band’s off-kilter instincts. Repeating guitar patterns and blocky percussion provide a steady backbone, while softer, more grounded vocals keep the song centered. As unorthodox textures quietly creep in, they enhance the track rather than overwhelm it, helping it linger longer than many of the album’s more indulgent moments.

That sense of momentum briefly carries over into “100 Horses,” where the bass takes command and funky guitar touches add movement and personality. The stretched-out vocal phrasing gives the song character, even if the drum patterns remain fairly straightforward. By contrast, “Half Real” leans so hard into the album’s woozy aesthetic that it begins to feel draining. The drained vocals, slow drums, and wobbling keys sound intentional, but the effect is more stumbling than immersive, making it one of the record’s more exhausting listens.

The album’s softer side resurfaces on “Au Pays du Cocaine,” where gentle instrumentation and string-like textures create a light, indie-leaning atmosphere. Its gradual swell toward a restrained climax feels organic and unforced, showing Geese at their most patient. That patience is briefly interrupted by the jolt of energy on “Bow Down,” which pairs snappier drums with faster guitar strums. Even with the vocals remaining relaxed and drawn out, the tighter structure gives the song more staying power than much of the surrounding material. “Taxes” follows with a brighter tone, its hollowed-out drums and oddly reflective lyrics landing somewhere between playful and half-serious.

The closer, “Long Island City Here I Come,” is one of the album’s most ambitious builds. Pianos, percussion, and spoken-style vocals stack tension effectively, hinting at a major release that never quite arrives. Instead of exploding, the song settles into a deep bass-and-drum groove that’s solid and satisfying in its own way, even if it leaves you wishing Geese had pushed the payoff just a little further.

In the end, Getting Killed feels less like a collection of standout songs and more like a carefully constructed atmosphere. Tracks like “Trinidad” and “Getting Killed” frame the band’s experimental impulses, while moments such as “Cobra” and “Islands of Men” offer clarity and warmth amid the haze. As a first listen, it’s intriguing and occasionally impressive, presenting Geese as a band deeply invested in vibe, mood, and experimentation. But while the album lingers in your mind, it does so more for its overall feel than for any singular moment—an experience that’s compelling in pieces, but not always fully gripping from start to finish.

Rating: 6.5/10