Goose

The Threshold

The void is listening.

You can change this later.

Goose

Archive / Project

South for Winter — the session.

One December afternoon with Squirrelybass: a backyard, a pool nobody swam in, a brick staircase, a railroad, and a Pacific sunset. Thirteen frames from the day the record found its visual language — preserved here before the record itself arrived.

The frames

Collaboration, movement, absurdity.

The same premise as the music: two people who understand the signal without needing an explanation. Some frames are serious. Most are not. That ratio is accurate.

Goose and Squirrelybass standing in shallow surf at sunset, the sun between them, reflected in the wet sand
Sunset Duo — two figures, one light source, and the tide doubling the signal.
Two silhouettes touching outstretched fingers above the setting sun on a beach
The Touch — the collaboration premise, stated as an image.
The words SOUTH FOR WINTER carved into wet gray sand
Written in Sand — the title, filed where the tide can reclaim it.
Goose and Squirrelybass walking away toward the ocean at golden hour, casting long shadows on the sand
Migration — going south for winter, literally.
Goose and Squirrelybass seated on brick steps beneath a eucalyptus tree, both in sunglasses
The Steps — the serious one. Somebody had to take one.
Goose and Squirrelybass pointing at railroad tracks by the coast, mock-alarmed
The Tracks — two producers discover infrastructure.
Squirrelybass carrying Goose toward a trash can on a coastal path at sunset
Taking Out the Trash, I — every collaboration has its disagreements.
Second angle of Goose being carried toward the trash can, reaching dramatically toward the ocean
Taking Out the Trash, II — the resolution process, documented.
Goose and Squirrelybass collapsed back-to-back at the edge of a pool, feet in the water, heads thrown back
Poolside in December — this is what south for winter means.
Goose and Squirrelybass back-to-back pointing finger guns at the camera in a sunny backyard
Announcement Energy — held in reserve until there was something to announce.
Both artists leaning back dramatically while gripping a large ceramic urn on a brick planter
The Urn — no one remembers whose idea this was. The urn stays.
Squirrelybass crouched with steepled hands beside Goose seated on a porch chair under hanging vines
The Porch — scheming, visibly.
Squirrelybass seated alone on brick steps in black techwear and sunglasses, fingers steepled
Squirrelybass — the anchor of the record, holding the frame alone.

The record

Hear what the frames were for.

South for Winter Part 1 — five tracks with Squirrelybass. A colder branch of the signal.

Hear South for Winter