On Live at Carnegie Hall, we benefit from an extra-concentrated dose of Cameron Winter

“Nepo babies” whose “fans are all bots,” people mock, while the New York quartet just get on with the business of touring, selling out venues around the world. And while it's true that the mathy art-rock of Getting Killed turned a lot of heads at indie music’s top table, Geese remain a punchy enough band to hit beyond the hype, elevated by their magnetic, borderline hypnotic singer. In short, it’s all about the nihilistic hunk at the front. For me at least, Geese's innovation, and certainly their intrigue, comes almost solely from Cameron Winter's quivering baritone – a voice capable of emulating the wavy vibrato of an accordion or a harmonium – as well as his abstract songwriting and wicked sense of humour. From that viewpoint, logic would dictate that the less diluted his presence is on a record, the better. If he is so transformative for Geese, there must be a pure brilliance to him on his own. This rang true on his sublime solo debut, 2024’s chamber-folk opus Heavy Metal, which continues to age like the finest of wines. But as the 24-year-old arrives with his second major solo release, a live double album of just voice and piano, recorded last December, does this goose on the l...