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Beginning Again

by Brian John McBrearty

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1.
Follow Me 06:08
Say you will Say you will Follow me Follow me Until the end Until the end Whispering Whispering Light it grows Light it grows From the dark From the dark And to be whole To be whole Be a part Be a part Follow me Follow me Light it grows Light it grows From the dark From the dark And to be whole To be whole Be a part Be a part Follow me Follow me
2.
Long drawn skies Young grass glows Silver tides And the river rolls And the river rolls And the river rolls Into the bargain Blue black dawn Breathing fog Vintage gods And the city pours And the city pours And the city pours Into the bargain Breath of wind Reaches through the seams Tree tops bend And the night it dreams And the night it dreams And the night it dreams Into the bargain Into the bargain
3.
Fire & Hum 01:42
4.
Entering the frame of a dream A keyhole view Lost in a moment of my own With faded hues I felt like myself Nothing to Hold onto No matter What we do Reaching across silver sand Time starts anew One with the dust, dirt and stone And endless blue I felt like myself Nothing to Hold onto No matter What we do
5.
Sudden sun a dazzling sight Shine like glass fill the sky Hidden hues I can’t see Guess that don’t matter to me Yeah the ending it’s all the same We’re beginning again again Slanted plane a broken sound Enduring moment comes around Mystic blues all over me But I know how to be Yeah the ending it’s all the same We’re beginning again again Yeah the ending it’s all the same We’re beginning again again Yeah the ending it’s all the same We’re beginning again again
6.
Peepers 01:39
7.
Dressed in light Blurred and bright Gold and radiant Like a dream distant Field of stars Falling far Onto cold pavement Like a dream distant Dull echoes Sing and glow Resonating back Like a dream distant Drift of gray Tear and fray Across the window front Like a dream distant
8.
Time moves on And it feels Alright

about

With every turn, with every breath, with every blink.
With every era and every moment.
With every passing and every entry.
With every wave and every cycle.
With every yaw and every hairpin.
With every syllable and every scale.
With every verse and every line break.
Nestled in every ending, a powder-blue egg, still warm.
See it pulse before the candle. See it hatch, crackling.

When does it ever start? The band counts it in, one two three four, inward breath before the downbeat, and everything that will ever happen is already in motion well before the pick hits the strings. Underneath everything that exists a timeless engine rumbles. Maybe this is the beginning, one demarcated place. There are waves and air wiggling, electricity in all the walls, binary hieroglyphs raining down from clouds of information. Does a song begin with the click of the little triangle? When the speakers move the air? Or when we decide to hear it? Or when it's allowed to be sung?

Words and syllables, delicately toned and shaped by an intricate choreography of bodies, rest among the instruments, not unlike a moon crouching in tall grass. The synthesizer clicks and whirrs, sending signals. Later, we hear loons in the distance. The strings, animated by the insistence of a rosined bow, shudder against the bridge. The heads of the drums rattle their rims long after each hit, the screws loosening. The guitars chime heavenly, ever strummed, luring bells from bodies of taut metal and resonant wood. The speakers in your home or on your phone duplicate every instance when you will it, you summon it up and it whispers to you.

Imagine for a moment that you have never heard music before. You do not hold the knowledge that allows you to say that this is a cymbal, or this is a song, or this is a chord I recognize. What do you hear? This story—the one we've gathered here to tell ourselves—starts with what might sound like a wave, a rising shush and then a crash. Cascading rhythms and a kinetic hum, then a human voice one step removed from speaking. Words that you recognize, uttered in coordinated harmony. You know, then, that this is the work of other people. In every act there is a shadow of the holy, an echo of the reverent, an actual human heartbeat. In every act there is an arrival of your kin, the next soft bend in a river of faces. They hold the song together with acts of faith, with the steady energy of renewal—so, too, do we hold the world together, and then the band plays another.

It's all beginnings, through and through, more fresh starts than you could ever hope to hold. At the crest of one wave you fall toward the next, an unending series of subsequents, and even dates engraved in stone wear through over time, they shed their ending. Every last stroll of the sun is the start of another day, every fallen sparrow perpetually returns, every hollow bone will begin to be ash, by and by. The ends we hold are comforts to us, reassurances for our little singular lives. Everything is always beginning, how terrifyingly huge.

Dust yourself off and clean the stereo before you let the record in. Breathe slowly and feel where your body makes contact with the surface of the earth. With every moment that passes, a thousand new beginnings have run past your door—if you're quick enough, you can grab one. Here, listen, try again. This is a good place to start.

- Ben Seretan

credits

released June 24, 2022

All songs written by Brian John McBrearty / BMCBCMB Music (ASCAP).

Brian John McBrearty – Vocals, guitars and synthesizers
Mike ‘Slo-Mo’ Brenner – Lap steel on “Time Moves On”
Tierney Greene – Acoustic and electric piano; vocals on “Time Moves On”
Janel Leppin – Cello and loops; mellotron on “Follow Me,” vocals on “I Felt Like Myself” and “Dream Distant”
Shane Woods – Drums
Michael Youngkin – Bass

Recorded by Shane Woods at Headroom Studios (www.headroom.studio) in Philadelphia, PA, with assistance from David Juro and Jake Miller. Acoustic guitars recorded by Jeff White at the Spacement (www.jeffwhiteaudio.com). Additional recording by Mike Brenner, Janel Leppin and Brian John McBrearty.

Mixed by Jeff Zeigler at Uniform Recording (www.uniformrecording.com).

Mastered by Amy Dragon at Telegraph Audio (www.telegraphmastering.com).

Artwork and layout by Sean Conrad.

Liner notes by Ben Seretan.

Thank you to my family, friends, and teachers, as well as all of the artists whose contributions made this album possible.

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Brian John McBrearty Ithaca, New York

open tunings and overtones.

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