"If I had it all, if I had it all
what life would leave me satisfied?
All of this gold, all of this gold
don’t weigh enough to make this life whole"
-Goose, "Madhuvan"
Folks, they said it couldn’t be done. They said a white guy from Western Massachusetts with a degree in Ethnomusicology couldn’t make it to both nights of Connecticut jam band Goose’s annual holiday blowout, the creatively titled Goosemas. Well, buckle up, because this public radio reporter defied the odds, drove the 2.5 hours east, and sweatily gyrated to almost seven hours of the Nutmeg State’s finest in the Amica Mutual Pavilion – home to many an iconic jam band performance over the last half-century – in the heart of downtown Providence, Rhode Island. I’ve been seeing Goose, a band universally embraced by the entire jam scene as the undeniable torch-bearers of the jam movement, regularly since 2021, and it’s been a delight to see a band of other dorks of my generation rise to such heights. I saw the band more this year than in any calendar year to date so far – five of the 13 times I’ve caught Goose overall – and harvested a hearty crop of Jam Band Memories for the dusty used CD store that most accurately represents my Mind Palace. I have already written about their wonderful performance at Mountain Jam for this column, and I can’t say enough about the “All I Need” they dropped on the Westville Music Bowl on June 29 (maybe my Jam Of The Year???? Who can say?), and I can proudly say that back in September my wife and I drove almost exactly 1,000 miles from our apartment in Pittsfield, Massachusetts, to see Goose in Madison, Wisconsin, with my brother and his girlfriend. (It was a one-set show, which are much maligned by some jam band heads, but don’t sleep on the “Arcadia” and “Creatures,” total rippers.) It was a great year to like the jam band Goose from Connecticut! With all that said, I had high hopes for Goosemas XII in Providence, and those hopes were richly rewarded. Here are some of my Big Takeaways about the Big Jam Band Shows that I attended!
1, That Madhuvan.
Jam band fans go to jam band shows to see a band jam. There’s a lot of other great reasons, some of which I’ll address later in this column, but at the end of the day, the objective is catching an unforgettable piece of improvised music that, if rendered successfully, can turn a simple date attached to a song title into a vital piece of lore for a scene to discuss, debate, and dissect for years to come. The Dec. 12 performance of “Madhuvan” by the band Goose at Amica Mutual Pavilion in Providence, Rhode Island, is one such jam. Long established as the launch pad for some of Goose’s most ambitious efforts (see: both versions from this February’s exemplary Midwestern run for recent examples, or travel back to the excellent 2022 Glens Falls version for Capital Region supremacists looking for a source of local pride), people were straight up pissed when the band juked the crowd with a now infamous “Madhuvan” fake out in New Haven earlier this year, cheekily bailing out of the improvised section for a (very fun, admittedly) Devo cover instead. In Providence, the band delivered the goods. Entering the final quarter of the second set on Night 1, they stepped up and produced an instant classic. My corny self closed my eyes and meditated during the meat of the 20+ minute exploration once the playing really took off, which was by measures introspective, adventurous, patient, and most importantly, thrilling. I could truly let go, be taken away by the music, and find a rare oasis of calm. It’s a special space to enter, and it’s the kind of space I want to live in – a band totally in flight, locked in, speaking directly to each other and the crowd in that unparalleled space of improvised live music. It was great folks! It’s why it’s fun to see these bands with really silly names! They do this exact thing! And Goose did it!
2. The cream of the cover crop.
In fine Goosemas tradition, the weekend saw the lads take a crack at a number of new covers. Three were particularly effective. The first two I’ll highlight came during first sets. “Pigs (Three Different Ones)” by Pink Floyd on night one and “Strange Overtones” by Brian Eno and David Byrne on night two. It was a study in contrast. The former, a beloved psych rock staple, hit the crowd like a neutron bomb. Go listen to the tape! Just a huge pop when the thousands inside the arena realized that their favorite band was covering one of their other favorite bands. It was also just an immediate lock stylistically, sounding like Goose had been covering the track off Floyd’s 1977 LP “Animals” for eons. I wouldn’t fault you for choosing it as your favorite moment from the weekend! Go ahead, do it! I don’t care! It was pure delight, and was an unmitigated success given how thankless it can be to cover such a venerated source text. “Strange Overtones,” however, is a comparative obscurity. I was in college and a big fan of both artists when Eno & Byrne dropped their much-hyped and seemingly immediately forgotten collaboration album “Everything That Happens Will Happen Today” in 2008- a built to disappoint sequel of cute electro-pop tunes to “My Life in the Bush of Ghosts,” their defiantly experimental and celebrated 1981 debut. I was definitely the only person who clocked what Goose was trotting out for their year-ending, sold-out arena gig in my section, and I was genuinely gobsmacked that they were going all in on such a pick. It was another seemingly effortless win for the band, who have proven their keen ear for adapting songs to their signature style time and time again (“No California” might be my favorite example- I’d never heard the original by Ilsey Juber before Goose’s version, and now my wife and I sing it together constantly). The third cover I want to tackle is, perhaps obviously, the cherry on Friday night’s sundae: the final piece in a three-part encore to close out the 6th longest show in Goose history, Neil Young’s “Sugar Mountain.” With drummer Cotter Ellis and bassist Trevor Weekz already having left the stage, the band presented the plaintive song about growth, change, and the inexorable march of time as a duo with Rick Mitarotonda on vocals and guitar and Peter Anspach on the keys. Halfway through, Peter got up and left, leaving Rick to close out Goosemas Night 1- playing the final notes, singing the line about “leaving there too soon,” getting up, and turning out a lamp, the final light on stage. It was a big conceptual swing, and it hit. From my vantage point behind the stage, I watched the other three Goose Guys watch Rick in those last moments of Night 1, and it was an unforgettable little snapshot of a band at the height of its powers enjoying the moment, reveling in a well-earned accomplishment.
3. The lady smoking on Broadway just up the street from the venue who thought Jerry Garcia was Pikachu on my hoodie.
She asked me, “Is that Pikachu?” about my bootleg Jerry Garcia Band tie dye hoodie I wore as I walked by the stoop she was sitting on, and I said no, it’s Jerry Garcia. She said, “who’s that?”
4. The experience of sitting behind the stage.
If there’s one thing I love about jam band concerts, it’s dancing without inhibition for hours on end. This requires space to reach its maximum potential for Successfully Zoning In on the Jamming, and finding that space in a packed, sold-out show - be it in the GA upper bowl seating, the floor, or any space in between – is a real challenge. It’s why incredibly Smart People like me favor the lawn for a proper summer tour experience- you ideally want those extra inches to vibe in, and I’m not on the kind of ego trip that requires me to be as close to the band as possible. I’m there to dance, and that takes top priority in Zone Location! Fortunately, Goose’s exponential growth opened up a rare opportunity for Goosemas- discounted tickets to sit directly behind the band in the arena. This proved to be the best choice I made all weekend, because it clearly attracted like-minded chillers, and we had both an unbelievable view of the light show and broader event as well as a kind of patio atmosphere overlooking the teeming hordes below. I boogied like my life depended on it, and I could do so without being concerned about accidentally elbowing anyone in the throat or being shoved. Just a delightful time under that glowing exit sign you may have seen from the front of the stage or in broadcasts hanging ominously above the band. Night 2 felt like a private party, with knowing looks exchanged between Behind The Stage converts returning to their spots to run it back on Saturday. The sound was crystal clear, the bathrooms close, and the vibes immaculate. Huge shout out to Margie and Harold from the Bay, you guys rock and we’re now friends for life. Sorry! Them's the rules! I don’t make ‘em!
5. Set break sobriety meetings.
I can’t believe how meaningful these are. In an environment stuffed with absolutely sloshed, puddled, and otherwise melted showgoers - to say nothing of the triggers, memories, and temptations at every turn for jam band heads trying to stay on the straight and narrow - having a space for sober solidarity and community is essential. The group swelled up considerably from Night 1 to Night 2, and both meetings were filled with so much love, care, and enthusiasm that my heart was truly full. I was looking forward to the meeting as much as the show by Saturday, and I can’t thank the wonderful people who showed up enough for turning an already great weekend into a really special one. Look for the yellow balloons at most shows if you’re trying to find a community of people who are ready and willing to embrace you wherever you are on your journey! They usually have candy!
6. The cognitive dissonance of the Brown University shooting happening so close to the show over the course of Saturday.
It would be both impossible and journalistic malpractice to not mention how bizarre the energy was on Night 2. Friday was a more ambitious and wide-ranging show tonally, and Saturday was dialed in to be the Big Fun Show with Goose playing the Big Hits in a broadly appealing manner. That’s not a shot at the show. It was full of great stuff (like the aforementioned “Strange Overtones” debut, a juicy “Wysteria Lane,” and a truly pedal-to-the-metal second set that went hard in the paint), and sometimes a joyous, high energy dance party is all you could possibly ask for from a concert. With that said, it made the dichotomy of the grim scene unfolding just blocks away in downtown Providence over the course of the afternoon, evening, and night that much harder to digest. I foolishly assumed that in the heart of a major American city, the shooter would be apprehended relatively quickly. This was not the case. The line to enter the show via the skywalk from the adjacent convention center snaked through waves of cheerleaders ducking in and out of competition in a regional tournament. Queasily waiting for a goofy band amid a legion of bejeweled dancers battling to a soundtrack of aggressive jock jams while death and destruction ran rampant over Providence felt like an unoriginal and somewhat obvious cartoon of modern American life. By the middle of the show, the ranks of armed law enforcement officials inside the arena had visibly swollen, and a Canadian Goose fan at the sober meeting was anxiously asking his American compatriots on how to safely navigate the situation. All we could do was shrug. This just happens here. There isn’t anything to do exactly other than get the hell away as quickly as possible for those lucky enough to be able to. The ominous warning about an orderly exit and acknowledgement of the unresolved situation at the end of the show broke any final seal over the event, acknowledging that something dark and sad lurked outside now that the last notes had been jammed, the balloons had dropped, and the confetti was starting to be swept up. We exited into a silent Providence still under a shelter in place order, with only the sound of choppers breaking the eerie calm. More to the point, most of the crowd was made up of visitors in silly outfits there to party to a band called Goose while most of the staff and community around the show were watching in distress as an actual nightmare played out in their home. Just awful. It colored the back half of the show for me, and made Friday feel like a gift given the comparative ease with which it could be absorbed. All of my love goes out to Providence, a really lovable place that deserves much better.
7. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Stuart Bogie.
The versatile hornsman Stuart Bogie has emerged as a key figure in the Goose soundscape in 2025, from appearances all across their first studio album of the year, “Everything Must Go,” to adding a much needed dash of jazzy soul to live appearances including the full-improv set at Luna Luna in New York City back in March to his prominent role in the four-hour windmill dunk that was Goose’s headlining debut at Madison Square Garden in June. Friday in particular underscored the value of Bogie’s contributions, with comparisons to Branford Marsalis’s unforgettable, celestial turns with the Grateful Dead in the 1990s. I am happy to join the Goose fan faction who would happily see him named a permanent member. Be it the clarinet or the sax, he fits in perfectly and offers textures and vibes that suit Goose’s journey into larger spaces and more ambitious arrangements. That Night 1 “Red Bird” is as good an argument to make Bogie the 5th Gooser as could be made. The full horn section Night 2 was also delightful, but the excellent, spacious mix the five-piece version of Goose could navigate on Friday was just transcendent. A really special show, and Bogie is a huge part of why.
8. That feeling when a fan base takes over a town for the weekend.
There’s nothing like running into like-minded dorks in every corner of a city when the carnival rolls into town. Whether I was paying a visit to H.P. Lovecraft’s grave, getting a bahn mi at Lotus Pepper, getting late night pizza in Federal Hill after the show, or just pulling into my lodging for the night, I found a friendly Goose fan to be insufferable with. Even in the Ludlow rest area on the Mass Pike as I head home on Sunday! It rocked. I can’t wait for the next opportunity to debate whether or not it’s insane to have “Dr. Darkness” be your favorite Goose song with a stranger (It’s not a bad song by any means, but number one OVERALL? Brother!). Fond memories of past incarnations of this reporter’s fandom eras, like experiencing Baltimore in the grip of Maryland Death Fest’s smelly, patch-covered hordes on Memorial Day weekend in the 2010s or running into smelly, patch-covered heads on Dead & Co summer tour in town after town across the country in the 2020s. Admittedly, the Goose crowd is less smelly (for now). I don’t really mind. I’ve gotten less smelly myself, and I can live with that.
9. I’m going to miss Goose for the next few months.
The lads are in the southeast and then Europe for the first half of 2026, and I’m going to have to make do on soundboards and the occasional couch tour streaming sesh for a while. With a finale to 2025 this satisfying, I’ll survive, but they have really whet my appetite for what’s next with such a cool slate of new tunes added to the songbook, Bogie elevating the jams with his brilliant tooting, and a kind of confidence and ambition that bodes well for the band’s continued rise. I think Friday’s Goosemas gig was one of the most complete shows I’ve seen any band perform on multiple levels, and I think they’re far from hitting their ceiling. I like that the weekend’s theme was sort of a vibe and not some misguided effort to build band lore in a needless pedantic way! It was a departure point, not something that needed joyless underscoring and elaborate exposition. The whole weekend was a full meal, and I ate. I ate it up!
10. I caught a “Moby!”
Get the eff out man! And it was a really good one too!
