New Be Well EP, Hello Sun, Out May 20
By Brendan Manley
If you’ve had even a passing dalliance with the punk and hardcore scene over the last 20-plus years, Brian McTernan has likely had a major impact on your listening tastes, maybe even your life. Boasting a list of producer credits far too long to list in full here, the Maryland-based musician and audio wizard behind widely beloved bands like Thrice, Circa Survive, Senses Fail and the Movielife has always been a “hands on” producer, helping to shape, guide and write for the best of the best. These days, though, he’s applying that winning method to his own music, with predictably incredible results.
In 2020 McTernan fired a shot across the bow of the entire scene with The Weight and the Cost, the debut LP on Equal Vision Records by his embryonic band, Be Well, comprised of familiar players from McTernan’s past resumé (Darkest Hour guitarist Mike Schleibaum, Bane bassist Aaron Dalbec, and Fairweather members Shane Johnson and Peter Tsouras on guitar and drums, respectively). As lyrically cutting as it was sonically brutal, the album took McTernan’s long-established knack for creating massive sounds to new heights, driven by the utter despair and anguish of his words.
Now, Be Well is back with another face-melting release, the six-song EP Hello Sun, which will be released by Revelation Records on May 20 and promises more of the classic melodic hardcore and deep lyrical introspection of The Weight and the Cost. Brian is also an old friend, whose life and career has often intersected with mine, so I welcomed any chance to check in and pick the brain of someone whom I so deeply respect and admire. With Be Well currently embarking on a massive U.S. tour supporting New Found Glory that’s set to roll into Albany’s Empire Live on June 2, it was the perfect time to chat with McTernan about the new record, the band and his ongoing road to wellness.
BRENDAN MANLEY: The last Be Well record, The Weight and the Cost, was widely hailed in the punk and hardcore scene as one of the top albums of 2020, and deservedly so. Now, two years later, this new EP (Hello Sun) seems to pick right up where the last one left off. Was that the idea, going into it?
BRIAN MCTERNAN: It’s interesting, because we had well over a full length’s worth of material, but I ended up feeling like this collection of songs felt like the right next chapter. It seemed the right amount of songs to be the next chapter, in a way. The interesting thing for me about The Weight and the Cost was when I was writing it, I really had no perspective on how bad of a place I was in; it was really through writing it and seeing the same themes just pop up over and over and over again. I feel like in The Weight and the Cost, I was caught in the center of a storm, where I really couldn’t see anything except the destruction. I had no perspective on what even was happening.
But when I was writing this new stuff, I had some real clarity on not only how I was feeling for the first time in a really long time, but also how universal a lot of the things I was feeling are to people. It’s one of the things that I’m most happy about with the band in general. With The Weight and the Cost, I really saw that as a very dark, sad record when I was writing it, and through the process of people hearing it and finding themselves in it, I realized that it’s a heavy record, but the darkness is definitely balanced by hopefulness. When I was writing it, I was not able to see that it was a step forward for me. It wasn’t a step into the abyss; it was a step out of the darkness. But I think on the new stuff, it’s a much more zoomed out of the storm feeling, for me at least.
B: Yet surprisingly, the lyrical narrative thread still flows seamlessly from The Weight and the Cost into Hello Sun; most notably, your ongoing struggles with depression and mental illness.
BM: On the first track, “Treadless,” it’s me finally being able to question myself, like, “How did I let it get this far? How did I live my whole life hiding something that was so integral to whom I am from the people that love me the most?” And also just realizing the relationship I had with my parents, where I would have never told them what was going on with me, and because of that, they never knew. So many people around me never knew. How differently I want my daughter to be able to express her feelings and express them to me. It’s nice.
It’s not like I’m better in life, and it’s just peachy keen, but I really am able to trace back. For someone who has lived such a charmed life in so many ways, how did I never put together that what I felt about myself internally was so at odds with how the people around me felt about me? And how could I never express this to them and work through that? How do I make it so my daughter and the people around me don’t have to go through the same things?
B: There seems to be this juxtaposition on the EP between frustration and hopelessness and this feeling of repeating the cycle—the song title “Treadless” conjures the idea of treading water, and “Endless Loop” is another obvious one—but then at other times, there are far more positive vibes.
BM: Yeah… Like the second song on the record, “I’ll Leave You With This,” is really funny. I never really did interviews. I think the interviews I did with you in the past are some of the only ones; I’m very press shy as a producer. I always felt it’s really hard to be interviewed as a producer and not sound like you’re taking credit for things that are really the band’s accomplishments, so I always stayed away from it. But one of the most incredible things about putting out this Be Well record and actually doing a lot of interviews is I had never processed how meaningful the records I spent my life making are to people. That might sound crazy, but I really only held on to the negatives in a lot of ways. Talking to people about Be Well and hearing how important the records I made were to this community as a whole was really meaningful and eye-opening to me.
At my darkest times, I felt like I had wasted my life. I am now able to look and say that I was a part of something way bigger than me. I enabled and played a role in helping artists that I respect beyond words create things that will live forever. How did I never allow myself to take any joy in that? “I’ll Leave You With This,” is a defiant song, almost to myself in a way, like, “I’m not ever gonna lose that perspective.” People can think of me what they want. There are stories of me making people cry in the studio and this or that, but I sincerely have spent my life giving all that I have to bands and the hardcore and punk community as a whole. I’m able to see that in a way now that I was never able to see before. It’s been hugely helpful on my path to recovery…this road I’m on to try and heal a bit. It’s been really eye-opening.
B: It’s been eye opening for many of your fans and colleagues, too, who are perhaps more used to seeing you behind a studio console.
BM: Even just the amount of love I’ve gotten from the bands that I worked with, like what a kick they’ve gotten out of seeing me do this. It’s hard to even explain…just like playing Furnace Fest and looking over and seeing the Turnstile guys and Anthony Green and the Hot Water Music guys and the Piebald guys… all these people that really are my life, watching me do this; watching me put everything I have out there in a public way, when I’ve always been such a private person. I feel very supported and I’m also able to contextualize what I’ve spent my life doing in a way that I never could before.
B: What’s also interesting about “I’ll Leave You With This,” is its lighter, mid-tempo melodic feel, which is a bit new and different for Be Well.
BM: We did stretch out musically on this record. That is one of the few things that was nice about the pandemic, to be honest: I love to write, so just to be able to take time and write songs and kind of curate this release, was great to do.
The last song, “The Shadow of Who You Thought I Was,” is the companion piece to “I’ll Leave You With This.” One of the interesting things about my journey is that I always felt—and for no reason from the way bands ever treated me—that because I started so young as a producer, I wanted to be taken seriously. So I’m 18 years old and producing Texas is the Reason, or whoever, and just felt, “I can’t show any weakness here. I need to be the captain of the ship.” What happened is as time went on, I just did that more and more. I felt like, “If I am showing this vulnerability, maybe I won’t have the authority that I need to have, or I won’t have the ability to lead this project the way that I have to.” When we put out The Weight and the Cost I literally thought everybody is gonna just think I’m this fraud, you know? I have to get this out of me, but I’m so fearful that all of these people will think that all this time I let them on. But the actual response was, “We love you. We always knew this was going on. We’re here for you if you ever want to talk.” What I felt was the complete opposite reaction, and it’s so touching to me.
B: Wow. That must’ve been a profound sense of personal validation and emotional relief.
BM: I realized that I can’t change on my own, but rather I need the people in my life to be able to see the true me; the part of me that I hid forever—the part of me that isn’t the guy who can make a quick decision about arranging a piece or make a tough call in the studio about something that needs to happen. They need to see the person who is scared… scared about whether I am a good father and friend, and if I am worthy of my amazing wife. I’ve lived so long feeling like I’m not good enough for any of the things that I’ve had. In “The Shadow of Who You Thought I Was,” I just realized that I was wrong: Everybody saw me all along and it was me not being willing to share myself that made things harder.
I’ve learned I don’t need to be Brian McTernan, the name on the back of a record. I can be Brian McTernan, the friend. I can be Brian McTernan, the person who needs someone to talk to, and not have to live my life in the shadow of this idea of who people think I am. When I finished writing that song, I felt like I’d never been able to say this in such a clear way before. Like, this is where I’m at… This is what I need.
It’s the reason you and I have both spent so much of our life doing music: We realize the power of music. Through this band I’ve been able to say things to the world that I would never have felt comfortable saying to my best friend over dinner, or my wife on a long drive. But music and this community as a whole at every turn has been there to give me the outlet I needed. As a kid it was other people’s lyrics: They gave me the words for the feelings that I had that I wasn’t able to express otherwise. Now as an adult, it’s this forum where I’m able to say things that I really need to say and be heard and seen. It’s been a pretty incredible journey.
B: Speaking of journeys, Be Well has lots of exciting tour dates coming up, including an opening slot on the New Found Glory Sticks and Stones 20th Anniversary Tour, along with Four Year Strong, which arrives in Albany on June 2. That’s one hell of a ticket.
BM: The crazy thing was at the beginning of Be Well, people didn’t know what to make of it, so we were practically begging to get on shows. Now that it’s clear that it’s a real thing that we’re doing—it’s not just a “side project”—the dates we’re getting are unreal. We just did that Avail stuff, we’re doing this Hot Water stuff next month, we’re playing with Earth Crisis and Snapcase in Buffalo, then we’re doing the New Found Glory tour, and then we’re doing Europe with Hot Water Music, Boysetsfire and Samiam.
B: Wow, it doesn’t get much better than that. Do you already have a road map for the next Be Well full length? Or is that too soon?
BM: Yeah, it’s mostly written. One of the things I decided very early on with Be Well is that I don’t want to write songs for records. I just want to write songs all the time. I love writing songs; it’s super therapeutic. Nothing makes me happier than having something new to listen to and share with people. So I have been trying to constantly write something every day, whether it’s a riff or a lyric, and whenever I hit a point where I feel like I’m tapped out on ideas, then I go back through all that and start turning them into songs. I’m sitting on at least a full length’s worth of stuff right now. When we get back from Europe we’ll probably start planning a new record.
It’s funny, because sometimes I think, “God, I wish I had done this band when I was 22 or 25,” but the reality is, one of the things that is special about Be Well is that I’m drawing on my life as an adult; someone who’s lived a lot of life. I could have written songs that sounded like this, but when I was that age the content would not have been as universal and well-worn. When you’re 22, your idea of disappointment, fear and failure is just very different than when you’ve gotten knocked down as much as you do by the time you’re 45 or 46.
B: Yet meanwhile, Be Well has plenty of younger fans. So perhaps the appeal is still universal, even if only someone mature could write the content?
BM: It’s different. One of the things I’m excited about with Be Well, is I think there’s a lot that’s made out of the mental health component of it, but I don’t think you need to be mentally ill to be able to relate to the idea that you’ve hidden things from the people close to you, or that you have hopes and failures that color your life, and that you fear you aren’t gonna be the parent you dreamt you would be when you were young and invincible.
There’s a lot of parenting themes on the record, because in so many ways, my life is my daughter. All I ever wanted in life was to be a good dad. I woke up one day and realized, “Wow, this is not as easy as I thought it was going to be.” You have financial pressures, and you have things that you’re giving up in order to not only be a good dad, but to be there to actually care for a child. There are the things like the adjustments I had to make in my professional career, like when I’m saying to bands, “Okay, we’re gonna wrap at 7 p.m.” Then you have this thing where it’s like by doing what I need to do to be a good parent, I’m also giving up this huge aspect of things that I have worked so hard for in my professional life. I don’t think that is something that only somebody who’s struggled with depression or anxiety can relate to.
B: On a more specific note, I’m assuming “Only One Wish” is inspired and/or written almost entirely for your daughter.
BM: It’s a reaction to some themes on The Weight and the Cost that I ended up feeling a little bit uncomfortable with, to be honest. When I walked away from The Weight and zoomed out, I said to myself, “It’s not fair for me to have my daughter be the only reason I’m hanging on, or want to get better.” That doesn’t fit with who I wanted to be as a parent and that’s too much to put on anyone. It doesn’t even have to be your daughter, but when you’re living your life only because of someone else, you are putting a weight on that relationship that is not fair to the other person. In order for me to have her be happy and not feel the way that I feel when she’s my age, I can’t put this on her. I can’t have it be that sentiment on “Strength for Breath” on The Weight, where I said, “I love you to death / You’re the reason I have strength for breath.” If I’m being honest, I still feel that way, but it’s something I’m really trying to work beyond, because it’s not a fair thing for her.
“Only One Wish” is basically me hoping that she does not end up having to live her life the way that I did. And not only my daughter, but our children in general. The shame and guilt I see… I think one of the brightest spots is that there is definitely a newfound acceptance for people’s sexuality, life choices and mental health, and openness about these things. The darkness that used to surround a lot of those things seems like it’s fading away. In that song I’m definitely saying very clearly that had I been more open—had I asked for the help that was clearly available to me—I wouldn’t have spent the last 46 years until now feeling like there was something wrong with me. If you don’t tell people what’s going on, they don’t know what’s going on. I always did a great job of appearing happy, personable and in charge, but I didn’t need to do that. I had people who loved me; people who would have understood and supported me. But I didn’t ask for help. I didn’t admit to myself that help was needed. I always thought, “Well after this next record, after this next thing, after this next thing….” You kind of wake up and realize, “Wow, I’ve spent my whole life hiding.” Whoever my daughter wants to be, I’ll support it. I want her to never feel like she’s alone.
B: I can relate to a lot of the new record on a personal level, myself. Like many people, I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression, and in my case, didn’t even realize how badly I was suffering until I sought help and changed for the better.
BM: That is the sentiment of this record and this band in a nutshell. People hide the things that they probably need to share the most. I think about growing up feeling just completely ashamed of how I felt about myself, and what a toll that took on me. You bury it and you can’t even see it anymore. It isn’t a part of your day-to-day dialogue, but it’s there just kind of corrosively eating you from inside out. I think about how hard it was for me to even admit I was depressed. My wife used to say to me, “You’re really depressed,” and I’d be like, “No I’m not; I’m just having a bad day. I just need to get through this thing and then I’ll be okay.” I think about how many people from our era who we grew up with who hid that element of themselves, or hid that they were abused, or hid that they were trans or gay or bisexual, or things that are intrinsic to who we are as people. You hide that stuff and it gives it a power that it never needed to have.
B: One of the things I also love about Be Well’s music is I hear touches of other bands you’ve produced. “Hello Sun,” for example, gives me major Senses Fail vibes. Should we call that sound the “Brian McTernan vibe” instead?
BM: It’s funny you say that, because that comes up all the time. With the single “Confessional” last time, people were like, “Oh my god, this sounds so much like Thrice,” or, “This sounds so much like Strike Anywhere.” One of the most fun things about Be Well is it isn’t like we’re trying to sound like those bands, it’s just that I played a big role in a lot of those bands. You make four records with people, and those records drip with my influence. That isn’t me taking credit for them, it’s just that I pour my heart and soul into the records I produce, so it isn’t surprising to me that you would hear elements of me on those records and elements of those bands on my own records. I didn’t just produce their records; I love those bands and I was a creative partner on a lot of records that people have listened to for a long time. I hope you can hear me on those records, and I hope you can hear those records on our record.
B: “Hello Sun” is such a powerful track, too. What a perfect ending to the EP.
BM: The interesting thing about “Hello Sun” is it actually was the first song I ever wrote for this band. We recorded it initially for the last record and it didn’t come out the way that I had heard it in my head. It just didn’t feel like it fit at the time. When I started working on the new record, it all of a sudden felt like it fit.
Backing up a little bit, at one point I got pretty burnt out with music and took a break. I sold the old studio in Baltimore and ended up running this roofing company for six or seven years and didn’t do music at all. That was probably the darkest time in my life. I would come home and feel so disconnected from everything. I would literally do anything to not feel what I was feeling. I was either on my phone, or I was drinking, or doing something that was not healthy. I had a very long period where I felt like, wow, I love my wife—she was my high school sweetheart—and I love my daughter and I love my family, but I wondered, “Am I the worst thing for them?” That idea that maybe I am the worst thing for the people that mean the most to me, was so crushing and so terrifying. When I read those lyrics back when I finished them, I thought, “I’m not okay right now. I have to find a way to get out of this. I have to find a way to wake up and either be the person that they deserve, or get out of the way. It isn’t fair for me to be this way.” I could see how it was affecting them and how I was not able to connect and be the partner my wife deserved or the father my daughter deserved. That song and those words were what put me on the path to be doing this at all. So when we started writing songs like “I’ll Leave You With This” and “In the Shadow of Who You Thought I Was,” all of a sudden “Hello Sun” fit. The sound of it just kind of rounded it all out and content-wise, it felt like a part of this next chapter; that acknowledgement that I was finally happy.
B: Well it’s really great to hear that. But with so much happening with your own band, what does that mean for your production schedule? What’s on deck?
BM: I’m still doing some producing, but in general, I’m trying to do fewer records. Last year I did the new Hot Water Music record (Feel The Void), and Nathan Gray from Boysetsfire’s solo record (Rebel Songs by Nathan Gray & The Iron Roses), and those were the only full productions I did. I’ve been doing a lot of songwriting with people and mixing, too. The new Praise record that’s coming out on Revelation (All In A Dream), I did the pre-production help with the arrangements and then recorded the vocals, and that was it. I’m trying to do more of that, because being in charge of a whole record is a lot. I don’t like to do it, unless I have enough time to devote myself entirely to it.
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Be Well will be appearing with New Found Glory and Four Year Strong at Empire Live in Albany on June 2.
