Premiere: Bri Bevan Captures The Quiet Heartbreak Of Growing Apart In “16”
It’s not that youth is wasted on the young, but that with each passing year, we come to recognize the ease it grants us. Learning new things doesn’t feel like an insurmountable task. A good night’s sleep is often enough to shake off an illness. Even sleep itself comes effortlessly, with any morning grogginess fading in minutes rather than the sluggish hours adulthood seems to demand. Life is more forgiving in our youth it seems… people as well. A playground scuffle resolves itself in seconds, while a brief spat between adults can fester into months or even years of subtle resentment. One of the hardest lessons of growing older is realizing that the things we depend on, find solace in, and cherish are never guaranteed. People pass away, move to other cities, grow busy, or change so completely that they become unrecognizable, distant from the bond that once held them close.
It’s unsettling how deeply uncomfortable this feeling is, especially knowing it isn’t tied to a single milestone. The moment you step out of your teenage years, it lingers like a constant shadow, a quiet warning that anything you cherish can slip away before you even realize it. That shadow only deepens with time, making you wonder why friendship once came so easily, why it felt so effortless to hold on to the things that mattered. Stanislaw Jerzy Lec once said, “Youth is a gift of nature, but age is a work of art,” a phrase often used to counter the idea that youth is wasted on the young. But what it fails to recognize is that art, no matter how masterful, still bears fractures and pain, while the gift of youth, fleeting as it may be, always carries an undeniable joy, something our minds will always wander back to.
This longing for our forgiving youth is central to the narrative of “16,” the new poignant single from singer-songwriter Bri Bevan. The song tells the story of an innocent encounter with a friend that reveals the fragile nature of adult connections, where contrasts that once complemented each other now clash at their core, turning small mistakes into rifts in what was once an inseparable bond. Piercing in its lyrics and immersive in its sound, it vividly portrays a crisis of faith… in others, in oneself, and in the process of growing older. Set for release on Wednesday, March 26th, this new single offers a glimpse into the cracks that form around us, ones that might have been smoothed over once before, but now remain jagged as we gradually lose the ability to heal with grace and patience. Today, The Auricular is proud to premiere this new song with an exclusive stream below as well as further insight into its stunning resonance.
“16” begins in a haze–sonically, thematically, even literally–with Bevan navigating a murky situation as the streets are shrouded in an unnamed fog. The lyrics rise above the swelling synths, crafted by the song’s producer and recording engineer Matt Luger, known for his work as a member of Rikki Rakki. Bevan’s voice cuts through the mist, clear yet laced with strained pain, subtly altered in the mix to create a disorienting effect, as if the source of her anguish can’t quite be pinpointed. Disappointment in herself, resentment toward her friend, sadness about the situation, and the agony of realizing this is becoming a familiar reality.
“I thought you were where I belonged / Not surprised I keep getting it wrong,” Bevan sings over the soft patter of guitar notes, mirroring the restless fidgeting of an uncomfortable situation: picking at nails, twiddling fingers, twirling hair, bunching up a sleeve–each movement a silent reflection of the taxing tension. Later, she sings, “You sat quietly, your expression neatly locked\ And I rambled on and on and on as you waited for me to stop,” illustrating the awkwardness of realizing that a connection has frayed. As the song progresses, Bevan reflects on how the two arrived here, capturing how seemingly innocuous moments and harmless confessions can warp over time, distorting into something capable of ruining it all (“Little things have spiraled out of control\ They’re hard to fix now that we’ve gotten old\ We’re burning under words we haven’t spoke“).
“This is a song about friendship changing as we get older,” Bevan explained when talking about the song. “We may change in one way, but the friendship might not grow with our own changes.” The only cure, it seems, is to somehow turn back the clock to when it wasn’t a struggle, something the song’s aching chorus pleads with vulnerability and solace: “Can we go back to 16?” Bevan’s perspective is striking in its compassion, illustrating how blame can so easily shift from one person to the other. This is powerfully reflected in the subtle shift from “Not surprised I keep getting it wrong” to “Not surprised I’ve always gotten you wrong” as the song unfolds, showcasing how the emotional weight of the situation shifts moment-to-moment.
The music itself is a study in hesitant grace, with Bevan’s voice bearing the full weight of emotion in every word. Luger’s production crafts a dreamlike escape—one that replays night after night, each time with slight variations in the lead-up, yet always arriving at the same inevitable conclusion. It’s a quiet heartbreak, the kind that feels almost foolish to mourn, a sentiment encapsulated in one of the song’s most striking moments, where anguish and resignation connect: “There’s something in my eyes, let’s blame it on the smoke.”
A steady presence on local stages, Bri Bevan is also the organizer of Woman Crush Wednesday, Richmond’s monthly showcase dedicated to spotlighting femme performers. Launched in 2019, the series has hosted hundreds of artists, making it a vital part of the city’s music scene. Past lineups read like a who’s who of Richmond talent over the past decade: Erin Lunsford, Erika Blatnik (Rikki Rakki), Ms. Jaylin Brown, Cassidy Snider, Tyler Meacham, Rebekah Rafferty (Holy Roller, The Wakes), Linnea Morgan (Sun V Set), Mackenzie Roark, and many more. Each month, the showcase not only brings together an incredible mix of musicians but also serves as a launchpad for emerging talent, with recent performances highlighting rising voices like Rine and Flora & The Fauna.
“16” is Bri Bevan’s first release since 2020’s “Minimum Wage,” a Bandcamp-exclusive song that featured a straight-forward rock sound propelled by her signature sharp lyricism. The track was produced by Dave Young who also contributed to Bevan’s other Bandcamp exclusives from that period, including “Plot Twist” and “How To Disappear,” as well as “Among The Dead” and “Future Days,” both of which are available on streaming platforms. “16” emerged shortly after that wave of single releases and quickly became a staple in Bevan’s live repertoire, earning its place as a fan favorite. In 2023, the song saw its first wider release through a live video shot by Thom Somerville of SomerLand Productions during an open mic night at Three Notch’d Brewery. In the years since that video, the resonance of the song’s restrained conflict has only deepened, a truth vividly realized in this new recording.
Bevan offers more than a wistful memory in this latest song; she presents a reflection on time’s quiet erosion. Youth may dissipate like the smoky haze that lingers in “16”, but what remains can solidify, widening the distance between once-unshakable bonds. We can long for a way back, cling to the memory, seethe at the circumstance, or, perhaps most powerfully, embrace the messy fractured beauty that age inevitably brings–a bittersweet gift all on its own, perfectly captured in “16.”
“16” will be available on all streaming platforms starting Wednesday, March 26. Stay updated on Bri Bevan’s latest news and releases by following her on social media, and make sure not to miss the next Woman Crush Wednesday event!
