There is a band I discovered on New Year's Eve 2016 that I had made peace with likely never seeing.
Goat. An energetic masked powerhouse from Sweden who are gloriously impossible to file... my best attempt would be something along the lines of psych-rock distilled through Afro-Cuban rhythms and a Shamanic fever dream; all played by musicians whose faces you'll never see.
They performed a small U.S. tour in 2013/14 to support their debut album and, to my knowledge, have not been back since. Most of their live shows take place in Sweden, the U.K., and various cities across Western Europe with European music festivals being the most likely setting to catch a performance. So, "never seeing" is relative but, barring any changes to their touring habits, it would require a Trans-Atlantic flight to Europe during peak travel season.
All of that washed away this past November when Goat announced that they would be conducting a small Canadian tour in the Summer of 2026. I didn't need to look at the list of cities below the headline; I knew they would be performing in Toronto. Sure enough, Monday, July 6th, at The Concert Hall on Yonge Street. With that information in hand, I set a reminder on my phone for the on sale date and queued up World Music, their debut album, on my turntable.
After a beautiful summer day in Toronto involving lunch at Rol San, a visit to The African Drums & Art Crafts (that included impromptu lessons on the Djembe and Kahaka), and taking in the last half of the Spain/Portugal World Cup match over some mezcal-ritas, I made my way to the venue with my sister and a few friends.
We got into the venue during the first song by the opener, TEKE::TEKE, a Montreal-based psych-rock outfit that combines traditional Japanese instruments alongside modern rock instruments. The energy of the Torontonians was a bit reserved but we were there to rock! We took in the excellent opening set near the merch table and made our push forward during the changeover... we were about five or six rows back before Goat took the stage and I was still in disbelief that I was about to see a band who has meant so much to me over the past decade.
Goat took the stage right at 21:00 and from the opening notes of "One More Death", to the live debut of their new song "Scorpio" [ooh la la], through the encore closer, a 9-minute rendition of their fan-favorite "Run To Your Mama", the band was a tour de force of energy and excitement.
We were able to make our way to the front of the stage without issue about halfway through the set and I spent the latter half of the show jumping around and dancing between the singers and "Bone Shirt Guy" [the name I have bestowed upon the band's Djembe player who always takes the stage wearing a large nest of necklaces featuring various bones, talons, and other shamanic adornments].
At some point between November and July, Goat added a date in Hamilton, Ontario for July 7th. I had initially stuck with holding a ticket for only the Toronto show as my schedule had [has] been chaotic to say the least. Well, it only took 3 songs in Toronto for me to pull the trigger on a single ticket to the Hamilton show the next night. After all, I gladly drove to Toronto and back in a day... why wouldn't I do it again for a second show in a city that is even closer to Buffalo?
Open night two, I arrived solo at Bridgeworks in Hamilton, still buzzing from the night before. This time the goal was clear: I arrived at doors and made my way directly to the front of the stage where I camped out in the same spot where I ended the evening in Toronto. I figured a measured degree of continuity couldn't hurt so I changed out my shawl for night two but kept my red-lensed "concert glasses" as part of my outfit.
By the time Golden Feather, a groovy funk outfit from Hamilton who really displayed the tight dynamics and acumen of unspoken communication between all band members, concluded their opening set, I could plainly see that the vibe inside Bridgeworks was much more energetic than Toronto the night before. When Goat took the stage around 21:13 a sizable portion of the ~500 people in attendance were ready to dance. The band fed off the increased energy and turned what is already a cardio-heavy performance into something truly incendiary. I like to believe that I did my part in keeping the energy up; I was rocking out so hard in the front row and sweating in the early July heat that, between songs, the aforementioned percussionist handed me a bottle of water as if he were some tribal cornerman making sure to keep my hydrated during a 12-round bout. I hadn't purchased any water and didn't want to lose my prime spot so, of course, I exclaimed "THANKS BONE SHIRT GUY!" to which I hope led to him cracking a smile behind his mask.
The setlist was the same as the night before (and from what I can see, all dates of the Canadian tour). Goat played for ~75-minutes each night. Shorter-than-average set times. No changes. Absolutely no regrets. I would gladly attend the performance they put on a hundred more times.
Front row twice for a band I thought I'd never see even once.
I could tell you how incredible those shows were and leave it there but I'm an astrologer... or well on the path to becoming one, anyways... so I'd like to explore these two magical evenings through that lens.
One rule before we go further: I'm not here telling you the planets made this happen, that is unequivocally not how I approach astrology. Rather, I like to look at what was actually overhead and ask why it felt the way it did for me. We find the meaning, nobody hands it down.
So, with that in mind, what was overhead?
First and foremost, the band debuting a new song titled "Scorpio" was wild. If you've seen my natal chart you know that I have strong placements there: Moon, Saturn, Pluto, South Node all camped out in that sign. Astrologically speaking, a song titled "Scorpio" was aimed right at my sternum.
The Hamilton show featured a serendipitous placement for me: the Moon sat at 18° of Aries. My Sun is at 18° Aries. On this night the Moon, with all it elicits regarding emotions and how we relate to others, sitting in the exact position of my natal Sun. The vibes, the rhythm of the crowd, the kindness of Bone Shirt Guy all parked right on my identity on the night I chose to come back for more. Interestingly enough, with this being the first article I am officially writing for AstroRot, I discovered the Lot of Fortune was conjunct with the Moon in 18° Aries that evening. The Lot of Fortune can be a strong indicator of career/vocation and life changes which, in this case, is a reassuring nod for me to keep up with my writing and studies as I continue to navigate a possible relocation and new day job in the very near future.
Finally, for the moment [I plan to revisit the charts for these two evenings in the future], one of the things every astrologer has been talking about all summer: Jupiter entering the sign of Leo. This took place locally on June 29th bringing its luck, expansion, and 'yes' energy into the sign of the stage and performance just one week before I found myself at the front of one on two consecutive nights.
I keep circling back to an article I read where a member of the band shares why the band refuses to be a nostalgia act. "As a collective, and as individuals, we have to keep evolving. Destination forward." He riffs on how he'd only ever want to hear Slayer up through Seasons in the Abyss and how nobody really wants the Rolling Stones doing anything but "Paint It Black" for sixty years [agree to disagree]... Two of my favorite bands, in the mouth of a third... all pointing at the same idea: don't get stuck being the thing you already were. ("Fluffan", speaking to Tom Taylor for Far Out Magazine, October 2023.)
Further into the interview there is a line that really resonated with me the first time I read it:
...start a band and pretend you know things.
My Astro Goblins, that is where I find myself at the time of this writing. I may not be currently forming a band and I'm more than simply 'pretending', of course, but as I am studying for my upcoming certification exam, building this website, and writing an essay about the astrology of a few rock shows... well, some days it feels like I've got the mask on, stepping on the delay pedal my guitar is running through, and hoping the crowd enjoys themselves despite the fact that I'm still figuring it all out.
But that's the secret Goat has been handing us for six full albums and various other releases, masks on the whole time. You start before you're finished. You evolve on purpose. You "do not settle for a solid identity, [you] keep trying to push through." You rot (not in the "Sunday Scaries" sense), and you become. It's part of the reason this place is named after decay... the rot is the compost. The moths come out of the skull for a reason.
Two nights, front row, a band I thought I'd never see, singing about never staying the same, under a sky lit up with my own chart. I don't think the stars arranged it for me, certainly not. I think I was awake enough to notice and that is such an important part of my practice, really.
Destination forward.
