BAYSIDE AT 25: STILL LOUD, STILL SHARP, STILL EVOLVING
Twenty-five years in, and Bayside isn’t slowing down—they’re speeding headfirst through the past with the throttle wide open. On the second night of their sold-out stop at House of Blues Anaheim, the New York rock veterans treated fans to a set that doubled as a love letter to their evolution, digging deep into the layers of their discography with surgical precision and volcanic energy.
Dubbed The Errors Tour, this run is no casual anniversary stroll. It’s a two-night retrospective spanning six albums—including Killing Time, Cult, Vacancy, Interrobang, and their latest, There Are Worse Things Than Being Alive. For those lucky enough to attend both nights, it was a rare opportunity to see the band curate a timeline of sound. For those catching just night two—like myself—it was still a masterclass in catharsis.
Opening the evening, Chicago legends Smoking Popes warmed up the room with their signature blend of punk sweetness and melancholy soul. Their set was laid-back but locked-in, easing the crowd into the night with a mix of old favorites and timeless hooks.
But when Bayside took the stage, the switch flipped. Anthony Raneri’s vocals cut through like a flare in the dark—fiery, familiar, and fiercely emotional. Backed by Jack O'Shea's searing guitar work, Nick Ghanbarian's pounding bass, and Chris Guglielmo's relentless drumming, the band tore through a set that felt less like a concert and more like a time machine with a mosh pit.
Shooting this show meant getting up close and personal. I leaned into my signature approach: up in the artist's orbit, catching every grimace, grin, and sweat-drenched shout. Bayside delivered plenty to work with—be it Raneri gripping the mic like it held the weight of the world, or O'Shea throwing sparks off his fretboard.
The crowd? They weren't just watching—they were with the band, every lyric echoed back with near-religious fervor. You could feel the legacy being lived in real-time. And in a venue like House of Blues Anaheim—intimate enough to touch the floor shake—it was the perfect storm of nostalgia, celebration, and pure rock catharsis.
As the final notes rang out and the lights came up, it was clear this wasn’t some most excellent hits nostalgia trip. Bayside used night two in Anaheim to stake a claim: 25 years in, they’re not a band reminiscing—they’re a band still evolving, still risking, and still refusing to play it safe. If this is what “errors” look like, then long live the chaos.
