Some songs are simply too special not to revisit. For Bryn Ryan-VanDyke, “It’s Ok” is one of those tracks—a deeply personal piece that deserved to be heard again, stronger this time. Ryan-VanDyke’s path to music wasn’t conventional. Standing under the Southern Cross on New Year’s Eve in Australia, she made a promise: no regrets, no letting fear win. The only thing that moved her was music, so she decided to start believing she could sing. That is when she found her love and talent for songwriting. That leap of faith led her from Coffee Houses and Open Mics to Hollywood’s Rainbow Room. She wrote songs at night and on the weekends and taught herself to play the guitar. The Southern California native turned Honolulu-based songwriter writes from the trenches of human experience. Taking cues from truth-tellers like Alanis Morissette, Stevie Nicks, Amy Lee of Evanescence, and Elton John, Ryan-VanDyke doesn’t sugarcoat the messy parts of being alive. Her songs will seduce you one moment, move you to tears the next, then leave you fist-pumping in cathartic release. It’s music that says the quiet parts out loud.
“It’s OK” originally surfaced years ago, with the lyrics and musicality evolving as it was played live. Bryn wanted to re-record it with her SoCal band and felt the time was right as there had been so many life-altering events in the world – fire, hurricanes, earthquakes. Her heart went out to those suffering. Even though she didn’t feel it was her place to tell people that “it will be OK”, she believes in the human spirit and wants that for the survivors. “It’s OK” transforms from whispered vulnerability into a full-throated declaration: it’s ok not to be ok, and it’s ok to need people. The reworked track hits like a warm blanket after getting caught in the rain—tender enough for your lonely moments, powerful enough to soundtrack your comeback. Ryan-VanDyke is a musical creative unabashedly unafraid to delve into the deepest chasms of her soul and expunge her guts for public display, providing a “voice for the voiceless” when they need that voice the most.
The music video tells the story Bryn always intended. Opening in the recording studio as the team prepares to lay down the track, it expands into something bigger: a meditation on how communities rise from the ashes. Real footage shows helicopters dropping water on fires, families watching smoke-filled skies, neighbors lining up at food banks. Her empathy for those affected, as well as for the animals, is woven throughout, as is the support of those who show up when it matters. The video closes on a young girl holding a seedling—not as empty symbolism, but as proof that something always survives to grow again. Hope starts with the helicopter pilots dropping water and the volunteers at the food lines, hope lives in the hearts of resilient humans, and grows anew like a seedling. She has built her following the old-fashioned way by consistently writing great songs: one honest track, one raw performance at a time. Her catalog reads like a diary you’re not supposed to find, but can’t stop reading. From intimate, small venue acoustic sets in Southern California to memorable performances across Los Angeles and Las Vegas, she connects with audiences through unfiltered authenticity.
“It’s OK (Special Edition)” feels both raw and comforting at the same time. What made now the right moment to revisit and re-record this song?
Thank you, I appreciate that. My thoughts have been with all those impacted by natural disasters and devastating events around the world. My heart ached for those whose lives changed in an instant and were left with great loss and the daunting task of rebuilding ahead of them. My hope for those affected was that they find and hold tight to the blessings they do have and are able to move forward. This was on my mind, and it just felt like the right time.
The original version grew and evolved through live performances before this special edition. How did playing it in front of audiences shape the way the song sounds today?
Michael Heart produced the original recording and played a beautiful guitar solo, which I loved and asked my band to replicate. During a performance, a particular guitar riff caught my attention. I knew it needed to be incorporated throughout the song as its own hook. That hook riff is now featured in the intro, at the end of the choruses, and the outro. I also wove the spoken phrase “close your eyes, you’re gonna sleep tonight” into the chorus hook riff as a key element of the song. That placement happened organically as I created space for the guitar line. It is the essence of what I wanted to get across.
You’ve said you didn’t feel it was your place to simply tell people “it will be OK,” yet you still wanted to offer comfort. How did you balance that vulnerability with strength in the lyrics?
I didn’t want to speak over anyone’s experience or tell them everything would be OK while sitting safe and comfortable writing a song, or singing to their grief with my hair and makeup done. I wanted them to know I see them and have empathy. I believe people under the crushing weight and responsibility of a crisis may need to permit themselves to sleep, feeling it’s a luxury they can’t afford. Maybe hearing it might serve as a reminder that it’s Ok. It’s not selfish to rest, to think more clearly and regain strength to better help yourself and others. This was better said online by someone who was touched by the song; she said it was like I was giving a hug. That’s exactly what I wanted to do.
The song builds from a whisper to a full-throated anthem—was that emotional arc intentional from the start, or did it come naturally as you reworked it with your band?
Thank you for the compliment. I wouldn’t have thought to describe it that way. The vocals evolved naturally with the band’s energy and my emotions. In the Los Angeles studio, we slowed the tempo of the song, which worked with the addition of Richard Allen’s keyboard, but also the somber circumstance, as the embers of the Pacific Palisades fire had recently been extinguished not far away. The instrumental tracks were done first. When it came time for my vocals, I was a bit tired from a long day and concerned about doing a good job. The Producer, Michael Parlett, asked me to envision why I wrote the song. This focused me on the dynamics of what I wanted to project – a whisper of compassion and a cry out for hope and encouragement. I wanted to reach out with my voice even though I felt so far away.
The music video brings in real-world footage of fires, food banks, and resilience. What was it like weaving such powerful imagery into something so personal?
I had specific images and scenarios in my mind while writing both the original version and the Special Edition, and when performing live, which I shared with Hip Video Promo. They are extremely good at taking a vision and bringing it to life.
I love how the video closes on the image of a girl holding a seedling—when you watch that moment back, what does it mean to you personally? I wanted to illustrate hope and resilience. Like when a fire demolishes a forest and you see a seedling growing out of a scorched tree trunk. Personal for me is the iconic 150+ year old Banyan Tree in Lahaina, Maui, that is showing signs of growth and recovery after the fire. I wanted the video to end with that image of new life. I liked the little girl because she also represents the future.
Your songwriting pulls from the trenches of lived experience, inspired by artists like Alanis, Stevie Nicks, and Elton John. How do those influences shape the way you tell your truth in music?
I’m motivated by the rawness, power, and uniqueness of artists like Alanis and Stevie. I like the unexpected turns in the choices they make; they write from the gut. I write about things that tug on my emotions; you can feel the power of emotion as they tell their stories. Elton John’s ballads are timeless!
You’ve built your career steadily, from coffee houses to venues like the Rainbow Room and beyond. Looking back, what have been the most defining moments in that journey?
In 2020, I was going through breast cancer treatment. I remembered how my Dad always used to tell us nothing’s really, really good, or really, really bad, for really, really long. And to “suck it up” and do the right thing. I remembered how brave he was in his own struggle with cancer. It was time to step it up and truly believe in myself. I wrote “Go Long,” which was my first professionally produced video, started my website, and worked really hard on my voice and music with the help of my coach, mentor, and friend, Julian Miranda.
Fans clearly connect with your honesty and willingness to say the “quiet parts out loud.” How do you hope “It’s OK” speaks to listeners who might be struggling right now?
I’ve been touched by hearing what the song means to people who have been kind enough to share. I hope those who are struggling are able to find something good to hold onto through the hard times and believe in themselves. I hope they let themselves find others to help and be helped by, find love and humor and all the things that make us human. You’re Special, Unique, and Original.
Before we wrap up, is there anything you’d like to share with fans who’ve been with you from the start—or those just discovering your music through this release?
I’m deeply appreciative of everyone who’s connected with my music – whether you’ve been here from the start or you’re just discovering it. Hearing how different songs have become personal favorites and why is so meaningful to me. Knowing that something I wrote has touched someone else makes all the effort worth it. That connection has been a defining moment for me as an artist, and I just want to say thank you, truly!
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