Dan Friml: producer, musician, and creator of The Barn, who openly talks about Mean Messiah and the harsh reality of the music world

The name Dan Friml has been appearing more and more frequently in recent years in connection with the modern Czech metal scene – whether through his production work at The Barn studio or via his own project Mean Messiah, his signature is impossible to miss. A musician, producer, and visionary who constantly pushes boundaries – both in his own music and in his collaborations with other bands.

In this interview, he opens up about the many facets of his career – from his early days in bands, through building his own studio, to working with dozens of musicians across the scene. He speaks openly about the demands of music production, the differences between the Czech and international scenes, and why, in his view, honesty and hard work are essential. We also get a glimpse behind the curtain of how a band operates, his plans for the future, and his uncompromising stance on the use of artificial intelligence in music.

Dan, in recent years your name has become strongly associated with The Barn studio, as well as your own project Mean Messiah. Do you feel more like a producer helping other bands realize their vision, or more like a musician fulfilling your own creative ambitions through your project?

Probably both. On top of that, I also produce Mean Messiah and my other bands, so these two worlds constantly overlap. I actually started out as a musician, and production and studio work gradually built on top of that. But for me, it's all inseparable. At least in my case.

Your musical journey has been quite diverse – people know you from different projects and bands. Your beginnings were in the now well-known band Sebastian. Today, besides Mean Messiah, you also play in Trahir and Surma. Is it difficult to juggle all these projects? And do you approach each band differently?

Well, sometimes it is difficult, because I also have a lot going on in the studio and even outside of music, so there are moments when it all gets a bit overwhelming. But life is meant to be lived to the fullest! Of course, my approach to each band differs slightly. In Mean Messiah, I'm the driving force – I write the material, produce it, handle pretty much everything, and the biggest weight of decision-making rests on me. Although recently that's been made a lot easier by our bassist Lenka, who has taken over a big part of the agenda. In Trahir and Surma, I'm more involved on the creative and production side, while the operational side of both bands is handled by others.

Mean Messiah is your original project. Where would you ideally like to take it? Do you want to break through internationally, or is it enough to be the most respected "madman" on the domestic scene?

There are ambitions, and I'd like to push Mean Messiah as far as possible, but it takes a lot of patience and work. On the home scene, we're already known and respected both as a band and as individuals, but there's still plenty to improve. Internationally, we already have a large number of fans, but we're simply not big enough yet to sustain touring or expensive international trips. And that's something we're still working on.

Mean Messiah are often perceived as an uncompromising industrial-thrash project. How hard is it for you to switch from the role of a producer – who needs distance and perspective – into the role of an author pouring emotion, aggression, and personal energy into the music?

Not at all! I'm a very energetic and emotional person even as a producer, so these two worlds don't contradict each other in me at all. Over the years I've learned to step back from my own work and be brutally honest with myself – to a degree that probably no one else would tolerate. And of course, I also use production feedback from friends and colleagues in the industry, with whom I consult Mean Messiah material. I demand very honest and harsh criticism in the same way I approach producing others. You have to be tough on yourself.

What are your plans for Mean Messiah in 2026? After critically acclaimed albums, expectations are quite high. Are you currently working on new material? And if so, can you hint at where the new music might be heading?

Yes, we are working on new material, although things have slowed down a bit due to concert preparations. The new songs will partially return to more complex structures and rhythmic patterns, while still naturally following where we left off with In Infinite Illusion. But everything really only becomes clear at the very end, once everything is recorded and mixed. In this band, things keep changing until the very last moment – it's not unusual for us to alter songs even during the final mastering stage, when everything already seems finished.

Alongside your musical career, you're also a producer, and many bands have passed through your hands at The Barn studio. What does the process of recording an album actually involve? How much work, time, and energy stands behind music before it reaches the listener?

It really depends on the music itself and the band – how much effort they're willing to put in – but generally, there's a huge amount of work behind an album or even a single. When I work as a producer, songs are often discussed for months, or at least weeks, before recording even starts. And after the recording sessions, post-production follows, which can also take weeks. As I said, it depends on what the band is willing to invest – both in time and money – and how big their ambitions are. In general, some things are better left to mature, while others shouldn't be overcomplicated so the initial energy isn't lost.

Your studio The Barn is quite unique – it was built in a barn. How did the idea of setting up a recording studio there actually come about? Was it the plan from the beginning, or did it develop over time?

The moment I saw the place for the first time, I knew it would make a great studio. It took years before I had the chance to make it happen, and the renovation and launch itself took several more years.

Besides the studio, you also opened a Creative Space. What can people imagine under that, and who is it intended for?

Creative Space is a service for musicians who need to step out of their daily routine and have a focused band retreat in a comfortable environment, in a room with proper acoustics where they can hear their music differently than in a rehearsal room. Bands also come here to record demos or even full recordings in our live room on their own. And if they want, I can also help them with that.

You also run workshops focused on recording and production. How many have taken place so far, and what kind of interest do they generate? Who usually attends them?

Yes, the interest is quite high, although recently there hasn't been much space for them. Over twenty workshops have taken place so far. Typical participants are people who want to take their home recording skills to the next level, or those planning to build their own studio in the future. By the way, at one of these workshops I met Lenka Čechová, who later joined Mean Messiah as our bassist.

After working with so many bands in The Barn studio, what is the most common "beginner mistake" – the moment when bands think they're ready for the studio, but in reality they're not?

A very common issue is that bands overestimate their abilities and simply aren't able to properly play their parts. But it's not just a beginner problem – it also happens to more experienced musicians. For beginners, it comes down to not really knowing how to listen to their music, what to focus on, or how to practice effectively. For more experienced players, it's usually laziness or underestimating the situation, thinking it will somehow be fixed in the studio. The first group can still improve. The second one… usually can't be helped anymore.

Many bands want to sound "world-class," but at the same time save money on gear or studio time. Is it better to record three tracks in top quality, or a full average album?

There's no simple answer. It's never good to cut corners, but reality is often harsh and finances are a painful topic for many bands. It also ties into the previous question. If a band is well prepared, there's time to focus on production details, and an experienced producer can bring them close to a "world-class" level even within a reasonable budget. Or at least very close.

What makes your approach to production different from other studios? Do you have your own philosophy when it comes to sound?

Yes, every producer has their own sound, and I'm no exception. I like a modern but still alive and dynamic sound. My philosophy is to push bands to the edge of their abilities. Otherwise, you can't expect great results. Honesty is key for me. If a band is bad, I tell them. For some musicians, that's a harsh reality check, and those people will never work with me. Others seek me out exactly because of this approach – they appreciate honest feedback and immediately see how to improve and turn a bad band into a good one.

Do you have a "red line" as a producer – situations where you would refuse a collaboration because it doesn't make sense?

Yes. I refuse collaborations if I immediately feel that a band can't properly assess their situation and comes in with completely unrealistic expectations from the start. Overly ambitious singers or bands who once opened for Dymytry and suddenly think the world is at their feet – I'm happy to leave that to someone else. My honesty would definitely not land well there.

Today, many people can record music at home using computers and software instruments. Do you think this accessibility helps creativity, or does it kill the hunger for real playing?

It probably helps creativity – people can just switch on a machine and start creating. But in most home recordings, people lack an outside perspective, a second opinion that could push things forward and improve them. That's why most home recordings are pretty terrible.

You've also worked in recording studios in the USA. How did you get that opportunity, and what did it teach you?

I got there through a friend who runs a well-established studio in Germany, where I did an internship. Thanks to his contacts, he arranged another internship in the USA. It gave me a completely different perspective not only on sound, but mainly on production. I realized that behind a good recording there is also a lot of psychological work – working with people.

Do you see major differences between the Czech and American music scenes – either in approach or in how the industry functions overall?

Yes, and not just between Czech and American scenes – you can already see it in Germany. Musicians there are much more motivated and work much harder, partly because they have to travel long distances between shows and face stronger competition. Here, musicians are often satisfied with mediocrity, because the Czech audience doesn't demand more. Czech rock has stagnated in its own small bubble and has lost contact with what's happening just across the border. Nobody there really cares about these local scenes anymore.

Looking back at your career – from playing in bands, through production, to your own projects – are you satisfied with your musical journey, or do you still want to try something completely new?

I will never be satisfied. And if I ever am, it will be a sign that it's time to quit. I need to keep moving forward, improving, learning, and trying new things. Otherwise it wouldn't make any sense.

What still excites you the most about music after all these years?

Creativity, concerts, and fans who enjoy my music. That never gets old.

There's been a lot of discussion lately about AI in music. As a producer, are you worried that AI could one day replace human work?

AI can help with technical things like separating stems from a mix or cleaning tracks in live recordings with lots of bleed. But I deeply despise using AI in creative work. In that context, AI is just a shortcut for untalented frauds. It will never replace human emotion – it will always just be a derivative of input data without added value. And the same applies to listeners: those without deeper interest will accept AI-generated music, but true music lovers will always prefer human work and emotion.

Could you tell whether a track was fully created by AI?

If a track is generated by AI and then recorded and mixed by humans, I probably wouldn't notice. But fully AI-generated "bands" from tools like SUNO – I can spot those immediately. There's tons of it on YouTube, unfortunately… and as I said, I have deep contempt for it.

If you had to give one uncompromising piece of advice to a kid who just bought their first guitar and dreams of having a band like Mean Messiah one day – what would it be?

Work hard and be yourself!

Finally – is there anything you'd like to say to your fans and readers of Rebel Sound?

Listen to live music and support great Czech bands! And thank you to everyone who listens to my music and supports it. I can't even fully express how much it means to me and how deeply I appreciate it. Thank you!

We'd like to thank Dan for his time, openness, and uncompromising insight into the world behind music that isn't afraid to go all the way down to the bone. His approach to songwriting, production, and how the scene works as a whole shows just how demanding – yet at the same time fascinating – the journey of a musician, producer, and creator in one can be.

This interview follows up on our previous conversation with bassist Lenkou Čechovou, who performs alongside Dan in the same band. If you're curious to hear the perspective "from the other side" – don't miss her interview as well, which you can find HERE!