Jam band darlings Goose played to an enthusiastic crowd for the first of two shows at San Francisco’s Masonic Auditorium on Tuesday night. Following the prickly departure of percussionist Jeff Arevalo earlier this year, the Masonic shows marked the first appearance by Goose-is-now-a-quartet within San Francisco city limits.
With only one drummer in the lineup for the first time since 2020, the four members of Goose now frame the stage in a semicircle; Cotter Ellis’s drum kit sits at one end, and Peter Anspach’s keyboard corral at the other. Guitarist Rich Mitarotonda and bassist Trevor Weeks fill the space between. They’ve deployed a similar arrangement as a quintet in the recent past, but with the percussion riser somewhat behind everyone else. Now just a quartet, Goose seems more grounded, both tighter and looser at the same time. The stage layout is symbolically equalizing—and, from the audience perspective, it makes the whole thing more of an interactive circle of celebration and less us-vs.-them-ish.
While these shows were ostensibly part of the BottleRock Napa Valley Music Festival “AfterDark” series, there was no sign of BottleRock. In practice, this was purely a “GooseRock” event. Goose on stage. Gooseheads on the dance floor. Gooseheads in the seated balcony of the Masonic.
It’s worth dwelling for a moment on the impressive mid-century modernist architecture of the Masonic edifice. The venue was built in the ’50s by the Grand Lodge of Free & Accepted Masons of California to house its administrative offices and host annual meetings. The foyer is dominated by a stunning 70-foot-long endomosaic window that depicts the history and contributions of California Masons to the state’s history. From the Masonic’s website:
“The artwork, created in 1956 by the late Big Sur artist Emile Norman, is neither a typical mosaic nor a stained-glass window. Rather, it is made up of more than 150 hues of crushed glass, plus other materials including soil, plant matter, and metals, all pressed between two large panes of acrylic, or plastic … The work is chock-full of esoteric iconography and allusions.”
In that regard, the Masonic is the perfect venue to provide a home for two nights for Goose, whose music is chock-full of esoteric iconography and allusions. Certainly (not wholly unlike Masons and many other acolytes and fanatics of various entities), Gooseheads are in sync with their band’s esoterica. Before the band took the stage, and throughout the night, the crowd frequently howled, “Goooooooose!” The uninitiated might think it was a “Boooooooo!”; Bruce Springsteen and Lou Reed fans can attest to the same experience.
Goose’s popularity was ascendant when COVID shut everything down, but came flying back on musical steroids when the live-music scene bubbled back to life in 2021. They garnered headline status at music festivals and an opening slot for Dead & Company in Mexico. Other Grateful Dead associations didn’t hurt either; Mitarotonda played in some Phil & Friends ensembles during Phil Lesh’s last few years on stage, and he was also a member of the Grateful Dead tribute band assembled for the Grateful Dead 2025 Kennedy Center Honors. Likewise, it never hurts to have Trey Anastasio sit in for a set and collaborate for a tour.
Tuesday’s show opened with “How It Ends” segueing into “Iguana Song.” (Fan site elgoose.net says these newbie songs have only been played live thrice and twice, respectively.) “Flodown,” a bluegrassy romp, included a tease of a few bars from “When the Saints” on Mitarotonda’s guitar. “Borne” drifted into a long improv segment with a vibe akin to a didgeridoo jam before emerging into “One In, One Out.”
The first set ended with the Creedence Clearwater Revival hit “Green River,” perhaps a nod to the Bay Area home of that seminal band. Weekz's bass-slapping was particularly solid on this funkified version. He’s sort of the John Entwistle of the band, über-unanimated in appearance and yet explosive with his bass-y bombs.
Set Two kicked off with “Big Modern!”—or, at least some of it. (Elgoose.net says this song was “unfinished,” and I need to take their word for it, as I am a somewhat underexposed Goosehead.) After morphing into “Creatures” and expending ample shred energy to hype up the audience throughout several jams, things calmed down a bit for “This Old Sea.” This one is a mellow, comfort-food Robert Hunter-esque thing:
Oh my child worry no further
Lay your burden on me
And I will take your every trouble down
To the bottom of this old sea
Following that breather, Goose took flight again for “Atlas Dogs” and “Dripfield.” The jam factor was in high gear. Some of their songs are like waves rolling for miles over the ocean, and when they crash into the shore, the fans feel a headrush of ecstasy. There’s an element of techno groove in Goose, a well-honed sense of slow build, increasing tension, and explosive release.
Ready for another silly Goose metaphor? They’re like a flock of fowl flying high in vee formation. You watch them as they enter your view on the eastern horizon, taking shape and becoming recognizable as individuals as they grow near. Before you realize it, they’re right overhead, and you can see the contour of each feather. You gasp, your breath short! Then, before you know it, they’ve flown out of sight to the west. But now, you spot another vee coming your way. Anticipation builds.
For the encore, Goose busted out “Baby Don’t You Do It,” known to classic-rock fans as a Levon Helm song with The Band. Written by Motown legends Brian Holland, Eddie Holland, and Lamont Dozier for Marvin Gaye (that’s some more esoterica for you), it’s a timeless R&B song, perfect for Goose’s rarefied airspace—an environment chock-full of devotional iconography and musical allusions.
