CT's Goose Plant Their Flag with Everything Must Go and There’s No Turning Back

Photo courtesy of Goose

Go ahead and roll your eyes. Some of you already did when you saw the name Goose. Maybe you think they’re just another jam band riding a wave of crunchy guitar solos and improv-fueled hype. But here’s the thing: Everything Must Go, released today, doesn’t just shut that narrative down; it buries it six feet deep in a coffin lined with lush synths, complex rhythms, and songwriting sharp enough to make even the most skeptical listener blink twice.

This isn’t your stoner cousin’s noodle-fest. Goose, the Connecticut-bred quartet who quietly sold out Madison Square Garden this June (no big deal), have delivered a 14-track, 90-minute odyssey that dares to be both beautiful and bizarre. And it works. Start to finish.

The album opens with the title track, a slow-building, orchestral sprawl that feels like the overture to something cinematic. It’s moody. It's ambitious. It’s the sound of a band saying, “We’re not here to play it safe.”

“Give It Time” follows with the kind of polish and confidence that proves they’ve grown way past barroom jams. It’s slick, radio-friendly without being soulless—a tricky balance most bands never learn to strike.

Then comes “Your Direction,” one of a few tracks never played live yet, which almost feels like a dare to their fanbase. It’s raw, acoustic, and layered with space - softer around the edges but emotionally cutting. This isn’t a song you need to be high to enjoy. It’s one you feel in your chest.

But make no mistake: they haven’t gone soft. “Thatch” rips through the middle of the record like a lightning bolt. Already a staple at shows, it gets the full studio glow-up here pulsing, expansive, and unapologetically tight. This is where Goose throws down the gauntlet. They jam, sure - but they do it with intent, precision, and a sense of melody that makes even the chaotic moments land with weight.

“Red Bird” delivers a soulful slow-burn, anchored by Peter Anspach’s vocals and that increasingly rare combination of vulnerability and restraint. “California Magic” brings the sparkle - part satire, part sunset cruise, it’s the kind of track that you think is light until it circles back and cuts you at the knees.

Then there’s the weird stuff -“Dustin Hoffman,” “Iguana,” the curveballs. The other ones that haven't been played live yet, that hint Goose isn’t done pushing boundaries. They're not afraid to get strange, and honestly, that's when they're most thrilling.

And finally: “How It Ends.” A somber, cinematic closer that ties the whole journey together. It’s not flashy, but it’s devastating. And after 90 minutes, it feels earned.

Look - people love to take shots at Goose. Say they're derivative, too polished, too earnest. But Everything Must Go is a mic drop. It's a reminder that evolution is possible without losing your identity. That jam bands can make serious albums. That maybe, just maybe, the scene’s next heavyweight isn’t who you expected.

If you're still hating? Maybe it’s time to catch up. Goose just left the station and Everything Must Go proves they’re not looking back.