Review by Shawn Perry
I know what you’re thinking: What’s an old codger like me doing at a Goose show? As I was to learn, I wasn’t the only boomer there. Plugged into the jam band scene somewhat, I followed the Grateful Dead and Allman Brothers Band before getting into Phish, Disco Biscuits, Widespread Panic, and String Cheese Incident in the 1990s. Since then, it’s become a saturated river with a myriad of tributaries — from bluegrass, to country, to prog, to folk, to EDM, to wherever the imagination may roam.
Goose is one of the more cultivated collectives on the current wave — obvious as the Ascend filled up to capacity, in anxious anticipation for the Connecticut quintet. They lifted off with a fan favorite, reggae-driven “Echo Of A Rose” to get the still-incoming crowd stirred up. Almost immediately, random cups of beer popped upward in the pit and it was on. A surge of rhythm spread like wildfire through the first few rows and up into the fully assembled lawn area.
As if to heed their roots and influences, they fell into Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Green River” with the grace and reverence it deserves. It wasn’t the first time they’d go rogue and wild with something from a different era. Guitarist and singer Rick Mitarotonda’s wistful vocals seem to fit into any situation. You wouldn’t expect a band to respectfully cover an under-the-radar contemporary song by another jam band, but that’s what Goose did with Swimmer’s “Draconian Meter Maid.” After a rapid fire of shifts, going so far as tease a few notes of the Vangelis Academy Award-winning theme “Chariots of Fire,” the possibilities were pushed to all limits of execution.
Suddenly, they drifted back to the 1960s and into the Bossa nova jiggle of Sergio Mendes & Brasil 66 with a funky take of Jorge Ben Jor’s “Mas Que Nada.” The lights suspended above the band squared off and stipulated the ambiance. For all the similarities Goose share with Phish, going this far outside of the zone is a calculated risk in most modern-day circles. Clearly, working against the grain without sacrificing the vibe is modus operandi for Goose.
Despite his Luigian tendencies, Peter Anspach, who seamlessly switches between keyboards and guitar, is an integral right-hand accomplice of Mitarotonda’s. His turns at piano, Clavinet, organ, synth, guitar — each percolating in an array of effects — provide shades of color to the music. It would be easy to compare his ivory work to someone like Page McConnell of Phish, but Anspach’s approach is more indiscreet, pliable in tone, aligned with the curvature of a song’s framework. This whole wall of cascading sound emanating from Mitarotonda and Anspach was supported beefy, simple basslines from the shaded, stoic guide of Trevor Weekz, along with drummer Cotter Ellis, the band’s newest member, plus utility man on percussion and a smidge of guitar, Jeff Arevalo. Turning on the samba for “Mas Que Nada” and embracing the staccato beats of reggae for Bob Marley’s “Caution” certainly tested the bounds of the Goose engine room. Those raised beers continue to bob without disruption.
It was during the second set when Goose really started to unwind and improvise with abandon. “So Ready” skipped and jumped through a pasture, Mitarotonda’s vocals locked in-step with an aching auto-tune effect that quivered alongside Anspach’s Clavinet, a major, ubiquitous component in his arsenal. Onto “Into The Myst,” the band took flight aboard a Pink Floydian-infused spacecraft — all without losing steam or balance, amounting to a dreamy, go-getter jamathon of epic proportions. You could debate tour de force champion of the night, and it would go to “Into The Myst,” “Arcadia,” or the title track of Goose’s 2022 release (and the main set closer) “Dripfield.” How they managed to squeeze in a riveting swing through “When The Saints Go Marching In” is anyone’s guess.
“Arcadia,” from the group’s first album, 2016’s Moon Cabin, carried its own cache with a side lesson from the school of Phish. Its funky edge was a delightful jumble of Anspach’s Clavinet, Weekz’s bass. Ellis’ drumming and Arevalo’s percussion moves that offered Mitarotonda’s meandering guitar a seat at the table for a joyous 18-minute vamp. By the time “Dripfield” was let out of its cage, that feeling of the end being near started to sink in. Thankfully, no one seemed to lose sight of the now-or-never spirit of the song. “Boundless and simple,” Mitarotonda proclaimed before adding “love” to punctuate the point.
When they weren’t reshaping a Creedence, Mendes and Marley song, Goose pulled a good chunk of tonight’s material from Moon Cabin, 2021’s Shenanigans Nite Club, and the aforementioned Dripfield. How 2022’s “Mr. Action,” along with other none-album entries like “Echo Of A Rose” and “A Western Sun,” fit into the equation is anyone’s guess. Even so, it was light and nimble enough for Goose to end the night with.
The next morning, I was shocked to learn Grateful Dead bassist Phil Lesh had died. I immediately thought of his 83rd birthday run of shows of 2023 he had done at the Capitol Theatre in Port Chester, NY. Rick Mitarotonda was a featured guest on vocals and guitar. It was definitely a passing-of-the-torch moment, and I’m inspired to think Mitarotonda reflected on it when he received news of Lesh’s passing. You can bet with pioneers like the Dead and the Allmans far and away in the rearview mirror, and Phish moving into the elder statesman status, the jam band highway is liable to leave traditionalists high and dry. That is unless they get on the bus with forward-thinking bands like Goose, who seem to be leading the pack with a glimmer in their eye and a spring in their step. For boomers like me with their ears in search of musical adventure and experimentation, that means there’s still hope.
