Last year, I felt a subtle pressure to enjoy the indie rock band Geese. The talented young musicians from Brooklyn offer great music, but do they herald a revival of rock, define Gen Z rock, or emulate The Strokes?
The band’s rising fame seems to suggest this. When their album “Getting Killed” dropped in September, they were everywhere, especially for those who call concerts “shows.” Frontman Cameron Winter’s sold-out solo performance at Carnegie Hall left many believing they were witnessing a pivotal moment in music history, the dawn of a new Bob Dylan. How could anyone meet such expectations?
So when Wired revealed that Geese’s rise was orchestrated, I felt validated. My casual liking seemed justified, as if I was ahead for not completely buying into the hype.
But it’s complex. Geese collaborated with a marketing firm, Chaotic Good, known for creating numerous social media profiles to shape trends for clients, including TikTok stars Alex Warren and Zara Larsson. This led to varied reactions, from betrayal to confusion over why a band utilizing marketing is surprising.
Chaotic Good co-founder Andrew Spelman explained that while viral audios easily gain views on TikTok, artists aim to promote their music, requiring a strategy of generating sufficient posts and impressions to simulate a trending effect. Discovering the frequency of such strategies can feel like learning that fairy tales like the Tooth Fairy aren’t real, with each viral success story resembling a crafted narrative.
Beyond music, startup founders employ similar tactics. While researching for an interview with Phia app founders, TikTok searches showed repetition of how the app, made by Bill Gates’ daughter, offers savings on luxury items or acts as a personal shopping assistant. Many accounts posting about Phia only focused on it.
Phia’s social media strategy is not hidden. Sophia Kianni described employing college students to make numerous posts about Phia, focusing on volume to boost content reach.
On platforms like TikTok, viewers engage with videos individually, seldom checking other posts by creators, reducing suspicion over potential inorganic promotion. Creators and streamers similarly use networks to proliferate content.
Karat Financial’s Eric Wei noted last year that deploying content this way is widely practiced by major creatives, achieving vast impressions through strategic clipping.
Chaotic Good scales such methods by purchasing numerous iPhones to establish multiple social accounts, fabricating trends as needed. Spelman acknowledged an office “overrun with iPhones” and frequenting Verizon as VIPs.
Co-founder Jesse Coren remarked on internet manipulation, claiming the majority of online content and opinions are manufactured, aligning with the Dead Internet Theory which suggests most online content is bot-driven.
The Geese and Chaotic Good link emerged as songwriter Eliza McLamb’s blog highlighted this connection, prompting the firm to remove mentions to protect artists from false associations about their discovery.
Conversely, the openly manufactured rise of Katseye is documented in the Netflix series “Pop Star Academy,” depicting their formation by executives through intense competition. While initially critical, the series evoked a desire to support the group’s journey against industry demands.
This exposure served management’s aim to garner fan backing. Katseye’s controversial song “Gnarly” even transformed from criticized to celebrated, reflecting possible influence over fan opinion.
Chaotic Good’s content approach influences perception, as seen with evolving opinions on “Gnarly.” Personal reconsiderations could be organic or steered by manipulated narratives.
In reflecting on whether Geese’s orchestration or Katseye’s industry-backed ascent matters, it’s a question posed amidst ongoing debates over authentic versus contrived marketing tactics.
Ultimately, the decision on where authenticity ends and manipulation begins rests with us, the audience.