Mortal Prophets make darkness dance on the brilliantly unruly 'Ain’t No Fool'

There's something thrilling about an album that refuses to remain where it was first placed. Just as Mortal Prophets appeared to be settling into the hazier dream-pop landscapes of 'Hide Inside the Moon' and 'Not Here, Not There', John Beckmann has dragged the project through another hidden doorway and emerged somewhere louder, leaner and considerably stranger.

'Ain’t No Fool' is a fifteen-song rush of clipped guitars, nocturnal romance, damaged confidence and jokes delivered with a completely straight face. No track extends beyond three minutes, giving the record the restless pace of somebody moving quickly through a city after midnight, catching fragments of conversations, half-lit windows and faces that disappear before their stories become clear.

Tracks like ‘Elementary Menace’ move towards childhood fear and existential unease, reducing large anxieties to something almost playground-sized. The humour in the title reflects the peculiar way early fears survive adulthood, changing costume while retaining much of their original power.

Elsewhere, ‘My Addictions’ uses processed vocals and self-aware confession to complicate the familiar language of vice. Here, the song appears to find something both comic and unsettling in the rituals people knowingly repeat. The technology surrounding the voice adds another mask, making honesty sound slightly artificial and artifice unexpectedly revealing.

While ‘Dreaming I’m A Rock Star’ turns that same sideways gaze towards music itself. Rock mythology has always relied upon exaggeration; fame, excess, rebellion and the fantasy of escaping ordinary life through amplified charisma. Here, Mortal Prophets recognise the silliness of that dream without pretending to be immune to its appeal.

The record’s softer moments deepen that wit by showing what it protects. ‘Dancing In The Fading Light’ slows the album’s momentum and finds something close to reverence in an experience already disappearing. Time becomes briefly suspended, but the title ensures that we remain aware of its movement.

Musically, 'Ain’t No Fool' pulls from garage-rock, post-punk, psychedelia and downtown art music without settling into any of them completely. Guitars carry dirt and nervous energy, melodies arrive unexpectedly, and the arrangements often sound as though they have been deliberately left one adjustment away from conventional polish.

But what makes the album so enjoyable is its refusal to choose between elegance and disorder. It can be tender without becoming delicate, funny without turning novelty-driven and dark without demanding that we admire its misery.

John Beckmann has made an album that understands the world is damaged, desire is embarrassing and certainty is usually suspicious. But rather than retreat from those truths, Mortal Prophets throw on a leather jacket, turn up the guitars and invite them all out for the night.