The Curious Case of Max Bemis: The SLC Dropout You’ve Probably Never Heard Of
Ava Lazazzera ‘26
Graphic by Ava Lazazzera ‘26
I can’t stop thinking about Max Bemis. The frontman and driving creative force behind the band Say Anything, he dropped out of Sarah Lawrence after a single semester in the aughts in order to pursue music full time, and is currently self-described as “a single, middle aged man with five children who can’t even keep track of his vape, the one constant in his life” that “cannot physically stop making music that conjures Blink 182.”
Okay, so he’s another guy in a band that makes crappy music—you don’t even need to leave campus to find one of those. And as much as I love a musical trainwreck, even the bizarre gimmick of claiming that Say Anything’s latest release, 2025’s “The Noise of Say Anything’s Room Without…” is the result of an experimental therapy administered by a fictional therapist can’t save it from being an exhausting slog to listen to.
To really get to the root of my fascination with Bemis, we have to go back to 2004, the year Say Anything released “...Is a Real Boy.” This album catapulted the band to success in the rapidly growing emo-pop scene of the time—and for good reason. The funny yet self-aware lyrics and catchy, sing-along choruses make for a fantastic album that still garners high praise today.
Unfortunately, this album that is dear to so many people, myself included, has proven to be a grim specter haunting Bemis in the present day. Everything that Say Anything has released since has been held up for comparison to “...Is a Real Boy”—and it all seems to have fallen short.
What do you do when the only thing people seem to care about is an album you wrote 20 years ago? How do you move forward creatively when that same album is your biggest money-maker? I have a sneaking suspicion that Bemis’s failure to produce new music that isn’t borderline unlistenable is directly tied to his relationship with his past.
On Feb. 3, 2026, I layered two shirts, slipped on my converse high tops, and drove two hours to New Haven to see Say Anything in concert. I could’ve gone to see them in Brooklyn, but Sunny Day Real Estate was playing Irving Plaza that same night, and they took priority—mostly because they’re actually good. I had heard horror stories about Say Anything’s live performances in recent years, mostly stemming from Bemis’s inability to stop vaping long enough to actually sing. And yet this would not deter me from seeing it for myself. This is serious journalism, after all.
After two fantastic performances from opener Sincere Engineer and co-headliner Motion City Soundtrack, I waited with bated breath for Say Anything to take the stage. I had to stifle a laugh when Bemis stepped out and immediately ripped his box mod, the vape cloud dissipating into the audience as he started to sing. “Sometimes I worry I’m a bad role model,” he said later, vape still clutched in his hand.
Bemis was in a shockingly good mood that night. He told the audience that it didn’t matter what they were seeing on stage, because from his point of view, “this is the best feeling in the world.” It’s clear he thrives on the validation of people singing his lyrics, dancing in the crowd—but he seems entirely uninterested in ensuring that his performance is one worthy of adoration.
Bemis made several comments about “...Is a Real Boy” that could be played off as self-aware snark but that I couldn’t help but feel were laced with a certain bitterness. “This one’s from our album that came out about a year ago…or at least you’d think it did because it’s the only one people give us credit for,” he said as he introduced “Chia-Like, I Shall Grow.”
“See, we don’t just play Wow, I Can Get Sexual Too.” Bemis remarked after playing a song off of 2023’s “...Is Committed.” A moment passed, and the intro to the aforementioned “Wow,” one of Say Anything’s biggest hits, began to play. “But we do play that one,” he concluded as cheers of excited recognition swept through the audience.
I’m not saying that Bemis should just sit down and be satisfied with his place on the nostalgia circuit. But I’m not sure what I would do in his situation, either. I suppose this is why I’m haunted by Max Bemis—he’s a puzzle I just can’t solve.
