Anxious: It needs to be anchored in something else, too.
A conversation with vocalist Grady Allen
Welcome to Human Pursuits, the column that features need-to-know names and stories in media and other creative spaces. Today, an interview with Grady Allen, lead singer of Anxious.
I have to admit: I wasn’t immediately sold on Anxious at first.
In 2022, the Connecticut band released Little Green House, a 10-song debut that brought to mind fourth-wave emo acts like Transit and Title Fight.
Though quickly embraced by many friends of the newsletter, including Kristyn Murphy, and Chorus.fm founder Jason Tate, I was slower on the uptake. I listened a couple of times but found nothing really stuck. Songs slid in one ear and out the other.
It wasn’t until October 2024, and the release of ‘Counting Sheep’, that I realized what was obvious to others from the outset.
Namely, that Anxious is a really great band.
Their sophomore effort, Bambi, released last week, combines elements of Third Eye Blind, Jimmy Eat World, and early Copeland, while managing to sound wholly original.
I was particularly impressed by Grady Allen, who has emerged as one of the scene’s most exciting lead vocalists.
And so, we have much to discuss.
Our edited and condensed conversation touched on Grady’s love of running, Fountains of Wayne, whether hardcore bands can (or should) be funny, how to sing better live, lessons learned from The Wonder Years, and how he recently found himself craving new perspectives.
ES: I was listening to your album at the gym today — it bangs!
GA: Dude, thank you. I rock with the record, and I rock with working out.
ES: Whenever I listen to music at the gym, I wonder if it’s the setting the artist intended. Were you picturing a guy like me doing shoulder presses when you were writing Bambi? Or is there a more preferable place that I should listen?
GA: It’s funny you ask. I actually do think about that. I haven’t talked about it with other musicians, but I enjoy imagining somebody listening to our albums for the first time, and how each song hits them. I usually picture them turning it on in their car. That’s where a lot of people might listen to something for the first time. I love to think about somebody putting it on their turntable for the first time and experiencing it that way….
I don't know, the gym, or running or anything is really cool, too. I’m a big runner, and I love putting something on and just rolling with it.
ES: Sometimes, if I listen to a song that I like while I’m running, I get too keyed up and it actually fucks up my groove. It happened to me with Foxing’s ‘Hell 99’ the other day.
GA: Dude, one hundred percent. SATISFY Running did an interview with Daniel [Fang] from Turnstile. They were asking him “Do you like listening to music when you run, blah blah blah.” He said basically the same thing. He doesn’t listen to music, or anything, because it messes with his pace and intensity.
For a long time, I ran without music for the same reason. I wanted it to be a very neutral, contemplative time. But at this point music, I dunno, running with music gets me amped, so…
ES: What's your go-to running song at the moment?
GA: If I’m chilling and having fun, I like to listen to the first half of Welcome Interstate Managers by Fountains of Wayne.
ES: Let’s go, baby. Beautiful.
GA: Also, The Photo Album by Death Cab for Cutie.
But when I’m feeling amped I like insane hardcore stuff. That band New World Man just put out two singles—
ES: I’ve never heard of that band.
GA: The only way I can describe it is “insane.” I know that sounds vague, but listen to it and you’ll understand.
ES: What is it about Fountains of Wayne for you?
GA: I’ve always been interested in them casually. Our guitarist, Dante [Melucci], obsessively loves them. You can see a bit of a throughline between Fountains of Wayne and the melodies and harmonies that he likes to use. I never paid much attention to them but sometime in the past month, I came across the song ‘Hackensack’. I love a song that manages to be funny, without being too over the top. It’s also poignant and sad. It’s great. I fell into the rest of the record, and their self-titled album from there. They’re fucking dope.
ES: People who read the newsletter know that I think humour is an underappreciated aspect of songwriting, so it’s cool to hear you say that. I think emo and hardcore, especially with the newer bands, is that they often take themselves seriously.
GA: Some bands can pull it off, and some bands can’t. I like funny, but I like it to be tasteful.
With hardcore music, when a band decides to do something silly or goofy, it tends to only exist in extremes. The band is saying “This is obviously a joke”. I compare that to a band like Drug Church, which I think does a good job of toeing the line. I was listening to their new record and a lot of Patrick [Kindlon; lead-singer’s] lyricism is funny and witty, but it feels observational and real. He knows how to twist the knife a little bit.
ES: I’ve spoken to a few musicians who are into running, most notably Dylan Baldi from Cloud Nothings. How does touring affect your ability to log those miles?
GA: Touring is an exercise in how consistent you can stay with things. There’s a certain amount of variability that you simply can’t account for. I try to be as consistent as possible. I tend to do the treadmill in the Holiday Inn Express gym. Laughs. Sometimes even that is tough. You get in at 1 A.M. and need to be in the van for 9:30 AM. Like, fuck, I’m gonna get five hours sleep.
Nothing is better than when you get to the venue and it has a shower. It’s a highly coveted amenity. When that happens, I can run, and running is my favourite way to explore a neighborhood.
ES: How far are you running?
GA: When when I’m home a typical run is 6 to 8 miles. On tour, it varies. It might be 3 to 5.
ES: Dylan had a great story about going for a run on tour and ending up on the highway. And he finished! Have you had any mishaps?
GA: I can’t say I’ve ended up on the highway. That's something out of Saturday Night Live.
I ran the Brooklyn Half last year, and I knew I wanted to run the last mile to the ‘Transatlanticism’ by Death Cab for Cutie. It’s just so anthemic. I would end my 10-mile training runs to it.
The day of the race, I had it timed perfectly. I knew what time I needed to start the song so it hit perfectly. I entered it on my watch, and it didn’t start. I was in some weird dead zone, even though I had it downloaded. I have no idea what happened. It was really frustrating. I ran the last mile in silence.
I had a really hard time performing. The schedule was constant… It sucks because there are a lot of videos of us, performing these big shows, and I sound really bad.
ES: You sometimes hear about vocalists prepping for tour by singing and running at the same time. Have you ever tried that?
GA: Dude. It’s really funny that you ask because I’ve started doing that. When we first started touring after Little Green House came out, I had a really hard time performing. The schedule was constant. It felt like there was a real disconnect between my voice and my body. Movement, breath support, everything. The result was that I was pretty bad live for the first 2 years of touring. It sucks because there are a lot of videos of us, performing these big shows, and I sound really bad. I got over it by running to the setlist and singing with it.
ES: What led you to do that – did someone recommend it?
GA: Nobody recommended it. At first, I was just listening to the setlist while I was running. I wanted to get a flow for it. But then I had the idea that I should try singing along.
We went on a six-week tour with The Wonder Years, and, in the lead-up, I remember seeing a post of [lead singer] Dan [Campbell] running on a treadmill and singing. I was like “Oh wow, I guess that’s a thing.”
ES: Yeah, for Soupy, Taylor Swift, Hayley Williams, and Grady Allen.
How did it feel being on tour with The Wonder Years, though? Did you get any tips or advice from Soupy? [Editor’s note: Dan’s nickname is Soupy… Because his last name is Campbell. Like the soup.]
GA: That was a really great tour. I loved hanging with Dan and getting to talk about his life a bit. I have a deep appreciation for anybody existing as an older person in subculture or music, and who continues to actively participate, while balancing normality. Like, how do I have a wife and kids and be a present father, or a normal father, while being on tour? I think that’s a hard thing to achieve, and so it’s cool to see older people involved in music who can do it gracefully,
ES: I think graceful is a great way to put that. Or even just age-appropriate. The Wonder Years feel like the elder statesmen in the room.
GA: Totally.
ES: Not to put words in your mouth, but it feels like they model how to be a band in your 30s. How to grow your career into something that is somewhat sustainable.
GA: Sustainable in an emotional sense, too. How do you coexist in different spaces, and not be this singular thing?
ES: Why is it important for you to feel that way? Because it’s sort of a recurring theme in a lot of my interviews.
GA: I got really into punk around the age of 13. From that moment onward, it was my singular focus. The only thing that mattered, the only thing that resonated. That’s a cool part about being young; you can discover something and become fanatical about it overnight. But the flip side for me, at least, is that I became really narrow-minded. I created this binary where hardcore and punk music and everything they touch tangentially were the only things I thought worth experiencing and enjoying and connecting with, and that everything else sucked and wasn’t worth my time. I closed myself off from friends and romantic partners and mentors and opportunities because I felt they didn’t subscribe to this very specific avenue of style and ideals.
As the band started to succeed, we were getting these cool opportunities to see the world, see the country, and be friends with people who were living life in these unconventional ways, and it still felt like my life was really homogenous. And this coincided with me turning 22. This time when everyone’s graduating college. and you’re seeing a few people start to get married or have jobs. Their life existed in different places. It wasn’t just this one thing. I didn’t want to arrive at true adulthood with my only lens for the world being touring and alternative music. It needs to be anchored in something else, too.
ES: What does it need to be anchored in?
GA: For me, it meant wanting to return to school. That gave me the space to grow in a few different spaces. I’ve gotten to push myself as a writer, student, and thinker in a way that I previously haven’t. I felt like I was getting a wider perspective because I was interacting with other students and adults. People doing different things and wanting to achieve different things.
Also, at school, nobody knows the band that I’m in. Even when you tell them they can’t contextualize it. The artifice and superficial ways that I’ve used to define myself falls apart. All that’s left is you. It was cool to have space to define myself as a person, and not Grady from Anxious.
ES: That’s so cool. Were you in therapy at all?
GA: No, no therapy.
ES: Shit, hey. It would’ve taken me years to unpack all that.
GA: It came with a certain cost. It caused this hard conversation with my bandmates. It was loving and understanding, but it was also kind of explosive. Like “Oh my god, what does this mean for Anxious?”
ES: “We’ve got all this merch just sitting in my garage!”
GA: Laughs. Straight up.
I didn’t want to arrive at true adulthood with my only lens for the world being touring and alternative music. It needs to be anchored in something else, too.
ES: Did you ever worry that maybe you had fucked up the band?
GA: Definitely. You fear pushing people away. A band is a group effort. It’s collaborative in every scope and so there was the sense that, by wanting something different, I was kind of letting everybody down. Some of that fear was realized. There was a lot of anxiety and frustration. I’m thankful that, while there was frustration, there was never anger. I didn’t feel like I got pushed away.
Something cool about being in a creative effort with your friends is that your relationship is constantly forced to evolve. A lot of people, maybe they have a friend from middle school or college, and the relationship is always defined by that one thing. It kind of always exists like that. For us, having to constantly work together on Anxious means the relationships are always evolving. There's always something new that we’re working on and defining our relationship through. Even in those difficult moments, it’s like the relationship is growing.
Grady Allen is the lead singer of Anxious. He lives in Connecticut.
Coincidentally, I recently started listening to Fountains of Wayne, too. Hackensack is also the song that got me hooked.
i love anxious. thank u grady