THRESHOLDS: Anxious

The Connecticut band's sophomore album hints at grand ambitions.

“I’m stuck in ‘22,” indie rockers Momma sing on “Ohio All The Time,” a single off their new album, “Welcome To My Blue Sky.” “I’m hanging out forever. Summer’s a tattoo with you.”

Am I stuck in ‘22? The year certainly feels like a bookend—the world began to open up after COVID-19 lockdowns, the epiphanies and creativity that those lockdowns stirred spraying out like champagne in a bottle. Musicians who had quietly honed their craft for two years put new work into the world and finally had the chance to tour behind it, and I was connecting with music more than ever. For Momma, in the summer of ‘22, “everything in [their] lives changed within a one-month span.” When I heard them sing that lyric the other night, I thought they must not be alone.

The next few installments of THRESHOLDS, a series about artists at transitional stages in their careers, will focus on the members of the “class of 2022” who released new music in 2025. I’ll get to Momma eventually, but I want to start with Anxious.

Anxious at Metro Gallery, May 28, 2022.

Anxious isn’t the best name for a band. I have one of their t-shirts, but I have to be careful where I wear it. Last year, I wore it to a gig, where I met a guy who said he once wore an Anxious hoodie on a date. (Yikes.) The Connecticut band almost was called Bambi, which eventually became the title of their sophomore record, out on Run for Cover earlier this year.

With their 2022 debut, “Little Green House,” Anxious grabbed the torch from their Tumblr-punk forefathers and ran with it. I mean this in a good way: they sound like a Run for Cover band, not quite pop-punk, not quite emo, not quite melodic or post-hardcore, but a secret fifth thing. Frontman Grady Allen is a hardcore scholar with a defunct zine, he forges that spirit with pop sensibilities to write music you can stage dive or sing along to.

“Little Green House” had some of my favorite songs of the year—”In April,” an anthem for a challenging month; “More Than A Letter;” “Call from You;” “Growing Up Song”—but it also felt a bit sonically one-dimensional, all anthemic choruses and fast beats. Brooding closer “You When You’re Gone” stands out as the album’s one mid-tempo reprieve.

Unlike their Tumblr-punk forefathers, however, Anxious rarely wrote cringey lyrics. They’ve sounded angry, maybe, but never vindictive or violent in the way that makes some youthful pop-punk difficult to bear. I credit this to Allen’s relationships with his scene forefathers, whom I see as models of positive masculinity. He’s close with Andy Norton of “Praise” and sang on “Return to Life.” When I first saw Anxious, opening for Praise at their “All in a Dream” album release, Allen pulled off an amazing stage dive. Allen’s also friendly with Fiddlehead’s Pat Flynn, who sang on “Let Me” from “Little Green House.” (That year, I also saw Anxious on tour with my favorite band Oso Oso and a band called M.A.G.S. I bet you can’t guess what that stands for.)

Anxious at Union Stage, Nov. 10, 2022.

Anxious released a few loosies toward the end of 2022 that hinted at a more melodic direction—”Sunsigns” was an earworm with shades of Matt and Kim’s “Daylight.” They toured relentlessly over the next couple years, including with One Step Closer, a post-hardcore band helmed by former Anxious guitarist Ryan Savitski in which Allen had also played. Anxious returned with their sophomore outing in February 2025. “Bambi” was billed as the band’s big swing, their “Clarity,” their Smashing Pumpkins moment, the time they would use the studio for all its glory.

While Brett Romney’s production is slick, I can’t say it’s a main character in the album narrative. What really takes center stage for me is Allen’s friendship and synergy with guitarist Dante Melucci, who took on more songwriting and vocal duties for this album. Melucci brings more diverse sonic influences to the table, from the Beach Boys to Fiona Apple, and his songs—”Bambi’s Theme,” “Some Girls,” “Audrey Go Again” in particular—add new color to the band’s familiar palette.

Meanwhile, Allen’s songs reckon with burnout from nonstop touring, the end of a long-term relationship, and his conflicting desires to return to college and stay in the band. Allen says the final song, “I’ll Be Around,” is about “the enduring nature of [his] friendship with Dante,” and was inspired by Teenage Fanclub’s “Start Again.” With “Bambi,” Anxious does just that—reflecting on their roots as a young band, embracing hard conversations, and looking forward with hope.

I finally saw the band headline at D.C.’s Songbyrd Music House in March. The show got off to a great start but turned sour halfway through, when a fan got kicked out for stage diving. Allen stopped “More Than A Letter” mid-song to protest—the band had talked with security ahead of the show about giving people a warning after their first dive, and couldn’t they let them back in? The security guy shrugged. “I’m just doing my job, man.” The band restarted the song and played the rest of the show with a chip on their shoulder, urging the crowd to dance even if they couldn’t dive. I’m not going to get into the politics of stage diving—it can be really unsafe, absolutely, but it does feel like D.C. venues are feeling more and more corporate, and there are fewer and fewer places to feel like you can really let loose.

Anxious at Songbyrd Music House, March 12, 2025.

I’m interested to see where Anxious goes. I sometimes feel like there’s a limit to how famous a pop-punk band can get. In D.C., pop-punk fame looks like reliably playing the Fillmore, a venue just outside the city limits in Silver Spring that books a lot of nostalgia bait. I guess Warped Tour is back, too, and When We Were Young Fest is going strong. But, with Bambi, Anxious taps into influences and ambition beyond a narrow scene, and their drive to make “widescreen alternative rock” could lead them down a different path. I hope that their intergenerational friendships with other musicians keep them grounded as they grow, and I’m excited to see where they’ll “start again.”