Little Green House—the debut full-length record from the Connecticut post-hardcore group Anxious, available this January from Run for Cover Records—quickly proves itself to be an uplifting listen. The often gritty and occasionally tense album reflects inwardly churning emotions, but Anxious find a light, and their music keeps moving. In the process, the band paint a musical picture of life beating the odds against it in a way that feels sustaining and can carry those involved off into the future.
This vivacious album emerged from squarely within the band members’ own lives, and the dynamics contained here—Little Green House is almost constantly shifting, although not overwhelmingly so—make the experience feel particularly personal.
Sound-wise, Anxious evoke a sense of invitingly familiar punk and hardcore heat. While it’s grounded in careful-sounding explorations of shadowy emotional corners, Little Green House also comes across as rhythmically free-wheeling, as though the band and those along for the album’s ride are lurching towards a sense of genuine freedom.
And in the meantime, it’s catchy. The sonic breadth that fans of related styles might hope for is here, fueled by straightforward earnestness. Anxious sound as though they’re finding strength in vulnerability— like they’re looking at more subdued, unsure moments and jolting the whole experience with a burst of existential electricity.
On “Growing Up Song,” vocalist Grady Allen sings, “As I’m getting older, the hate that I shoulder subsides”—and that aptly reflects the vibe of much of the album, from the contemplative (but still driving) moments, to the sudden returns to fiercer instrumentation, like on “Speechless.” It’s a stage-dive into life, reflecting the power of standing through it, tension and all.
Below, check out what Allen has to say about the creation of the album, including coming to terms with change, the inspirational nature of The Beach Boys and how engaging that experience of connecting with listeners can be.
Starting out on a broad note, is there some theme that comes to mind that you specifically hoped to explore in the making of this record? There are a lot of evident personal touches in there. Or was it more just kind of seeing where the process went?
I think, going into the album, there certainly wasn’t anything conceptual in the way of, you know, we’re hoping to create an album that articulates this broad message, or this specific message, or anything like that.
But I will say, I feel that the theming, lyrically, of the record has ended up being fairly cohesive. I think if someone asked me, “What is the record focused on?” I would say that it broadly focuses on relationships and the multiple spheres that relationships have, whether it’s familial, platonic, romantic, friendships, the lack thereof.
I would say that it’s focusing on relationships and conversations with people in my life. So, I mean, I think there are lots of songs focusing on friendships and either those building or falling apart. There are multiple songs about my parents, and the beautiful-yet-complicated pieces there. And, I mean, there are a few romantic songs, albeit—I don’t know. I wouldn’t call them pessimistic, but they’re definitely—I don’t know.
If somebody asked, I would say it’s a broad look at relationships in multiple contexts and how those change, alter, and are affected in this kind of young, adolescent phase.
One of the impressions that could come across from the album is a sort of upbeat energy. Is catharsis, so to speak, something that you’d imagine kind of rests at the end of the record, in terms of the grand scheme of things?
Yeah, I mean, I would consider the record reflective in a positive way. I mean, I would say that it’s a peaceful coming to terms with all these things, and embracing that change, and these new experiences within these relationships, although they might be painful, or frustrating, or aggravating. They’re not inherently all bad. And they’re not bad experiences to be having. So, I think the record has maybe an appreciation for these experiences, even though in the moment they might be x, y, or z.
Considering that your band is on the younger side, do you feel as though you’ve been able to sort of successfully pair the experience of quote, growing up with the process of making this music?
I think the two very much go hand in hand. I think the songs that we’re writing, and all of that are very reflective of the things that we’re experiencing now. So, I mean—probably not enough time has passed that I can gain the proper appreciation for it now. But I think probably when I’m older, I will enjoy looking back at these songs. And this project, probably in general, is kind of a snapshot and sort of a reflection on this phase of my life.
So, I think in that way, like, there is very much a pairing between the experiences we’re having and the music that we’re writing. […] I think it’s a testament to the emotional fulfillment that music can provide, that it’s not something you feel compelled to drop after you’ve done it for a couple of years. You feel invested and compelled to stay in it, despite tons of years passing.
So, as for the sounds of the record—there’s a lot going on in there, and the variety is engaging. Are there specific musical points that you wanted to hit when crafting the sound?
I think it’s very in the hardcore DNA, especially in 2021, to approach songwriting with the goal of capturing a sound, or a style, or a feeling, you know, and I feel like it’s—I find it impossible to talk to anyone about a new demo that dropped, or a new record or something, without it being put in the context of like, oh, it’s total x, y, and z worship. Or they’re totally trying to go for this sound and space.
And I think, while that’s really cool and valuable—and I mean, I’m the most backward-looking person I know, like, from a time perspective. I love that stuff, and putting appreciation on that stuff.
But when it came to writing Little Green House, it was trying to do our best to not feel like we were compelled to be stuck within strict parameters because that’s what this is “supposed” to sound like, or this is what this is “supposed” to be like. And instead, we just approached it with a philosophy of, let’s try to create this totally unashamed reflection of ourselves. We just tried to approach it with, let’s just try to write good songs and not focus on, oh, this sounds like this band, or this scene, or something like that, and instead, we just tried to create where this sounds like us.
Considering what you said about your liking for certain heavy music—and considering the general communal nature of hardcore and hardcore-adjacent music in general, it feels particularly relevant to ask: are there particular artists that come to mind as sort of inspirational guideposts for you guys?
Yeah, absolutely. It’s the most eclectic that it’s ever been. I think at its foundation, Anxious is a band that’s really influenced by a lot of ‘90s emo and emotive, hardcore-adjacent stuff. So, I mean, stuff in the vein of Samiam and Texas Is The Reason and Farside. Farside and Samiam are big ones. Penfold—just tons of emotive bands of, like, the 1990s. And I guess stuff of the late 1980s as well: Dag Nasty, Rites of Spring, Embrace.
But I think on this record, it’s gotten a lot more varied and eclectic. I mean, our guitarist Dante [Melucci] is pulling a lot from The Japanese House, Band of Horses. And a lot of the harmony theory and approaching vocal parts and stuff is like ripping—maybe not ripping in the sense of like: yeah, it sounds like that. But a lot of the inspiration is stuff from The Beach Boys and stuff like that.
On the note of the hardcore and hardcore-adjacent community, what have your experiences with fans been like?
It’s always the most flattering thing in the world. I consider Anxious a band that’s still very much figuring it out. To me, I’m surprised that anybody cares and is invested in any sort of way besides very casual listenership. So, in that realm, it’s always very surprising and very flattering. But I really enjoy it, too. It’s really cool to see somebody have an intimately personal connection with something you’ve created, despite them not having the insight of what created it or something like that. So, it’s really cool to see.
Not even with us, but with any band. You know, I think that is something really cool about songs and music in general. The person writing it could be coming at it from this standpoint, and talking about this sort of thing. And you can listen to it, and attribute your own meaning to it, and say, oh my gosh, this is exactly how I feel about x, y, or z situation that I’m experiencing right now. [Text Wrapping Break][Text Wrapping Break]So that’s always really cool. But I mean, experiences with, like fans, quote, unquote, people that like our music and stuff, it’s always cool. I always love it. I love nothing more than going and doing merch and getting to talk to people and stuff. So, I really enjoy it.
Is there something that comes to mind in terms of your approach to the tones that you wanted to capture? Ultimately, how did you want the album to sound, so to speak?
I think the record was definitely pushing the most that I’ve ever done vocally. The moments where it’s at its heaviest are, I think, the heaviest that we’ve done, but I think the record, holistically, vocally, is like the most polished and clean that it’s ever been.
So, in that way, it was a big effort to refine all those parts and make sure that everything was strong and sounded good and wasn’t falling.
I guess, was there an intentional way we were trying to sound, no, but there was definitely a care and effort put in to make sure these clean parts were coming across in the ways that we had hoped for.
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Watch the video for “Growing Up Song” here:
For more from Anxious, find them on Instagram, Twitter, and Bandcamp.
Photo courtesy of Anxious and Mitch Wojcik
