
There is a strange, hypnotic pull to Not Here Not There, the latest release from The Mortal Prophets, led by the ever-restless John Beckmann. The album drifts like neon reflections on wet pavement at 3 a.m., somewhere between memory and hallucination. Beckmann has long occupied the hazy crossroads of psychedelic ambience, dream pop, and poetic art rock, but this record feels more emotionally exposed than previous outings.
“Was It Your Voice” enters with rumbling beats and glowing melodies that swirl around Tanner McGraw’s thick, yearning vocals. Suspended in midair, he is emotional yet distant, like someone replaying an old conversation in their head long after the room has gone quiet. The production glistens without becoming polished to death, and that rawness gives the song its pulse. Beckmann knows how to let atmosphere do the heavy lifting, and boy, does it work here.
Further down the rabbit hole comes “Franz Xaver Messerschmidt,” one of the album’s most fascinating turns. Revving guitars grind beneath soulful but fractured vocals as the lyrics sketch out a portrait of obsession and survival. “He fights with the faces, he sculpts to survive… Frozen in time,” McGraw sings, sounding haunted by the words as much as he is delivering them. The track feels unstable in the best possible way, teetering between collapse and beauty.
Then there is the title track, “Not Here Not There,” which carries the album’s emotional core. Pulsating melodies and bustling percussion give the song momentum, yet it still feels weightless, as if floating just outside reality. McGraw’s heartfelt performance cuts through the haze with quiet vulnerability while Lawson Mars’ backing vocals widen the emotional landscape into something cinematic.
Rather than chasing trends, Not Here Not There creates its own nocturnal universe. It is moody, romantic, restless, and deeply immersive, as an album that sneaks up on you long after the final note fades.
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Review by: Naomi Joan

