A quieter chapter for a loud band
On a chilly Friday night in Prague, Taylor Momsen was fighting a cold and waiting for soundcheck. Even so, her voice came through clear over the phone—upbeat, focused, and ready to talk about the pivot everyone’s hearing on Other Worlds. The Pretty Reckless—Momsen with guitarist Ben Phillips, drummer Jamie Perkins, and bassist Mark Damon—are headlining across Europe, bringing a set that now swings from thunder to hush without losing the band’s bite.
Other Worlds gathers eleven tracks that strip the band’s sound down to its bones. It’s the side of The Pretty Reckless you catch in a radio lounge, a backstage warm-up, or a late-night hotel room: clean guitar, close vocals, and space to breathe. Fans had been asking the band to make an official acoustic set for years, and this release answers that call. Instead of chasing a new trend, it leans into the songs themselves and lets the writing do the heavy lifting.
The change is most obvious on the reimagined 25. Once a widescreen piece from the band’s 2021 run, it’s now more voice-forward, paced to let every line land. The Keeper pushes in the same direction, showing the grain and range in Momsen’s performance without the wall of amps behind her. You can hear how the band’s dynamics translate: Phillips’ lines are sharper in the quiet, Perkins plays with restraint rather than brute force, and Damon’s bass becomes a guide rather than a hammer.
This is not The Pretty Reckless going soft. It’s a different camera angle on what they already do well. Death by Rock and Roll (2021) gave them a muscular, stadium-ready sound; Other Worlds balances that with intimacy. You feel the room. You hear the breath. The power didn’t go anywhere—it’s just been redirected into detail and timing.
Sequencing matters here. The collection moves like a short film, setting up tension early and easing into more open spaces as it goes. The performances keep the focus on storytelling, and the production stays out of the way. No big studio tricks, no glossy overdubs for the sake of it—just a band trusting the strength of their songs. It’s the kind of confidence you only get after years on the road, when you know what holds up under the stage lights and what works at a whisper.
The set also nods to the music that shaped them. You can hear the fingerprints of classic unplugged records: the patience, the care with phrasing, the belief that a quiet take can hit harder than a loud one. That “behind the scenes” feel isn’t just marketing language; it’s baked into the performances. It sounds like a band playing for each other first, then letting us listen in.
Momentum, recovery, and the road ahead
Momsen has said for years she’s a musician first, and this collection backs that up. When the stage gets quieter, there’s nowhere to hide—every breath counts. Night after night, that demands discipline: rest when you can, warm up early, and guard the voice. Touring with a cold is a stress test most singers know too well; if anything, it underlines how prepared she is for a set that now asks for control as much as force.
There’s also a personal shift underneath the music. In recent seasons, Momsen has spoken about pulling herself out of a long, heavy grief and finding her creative footing again. Other Worlds feels like the sound of that door opening. By letting the songs stand without armor, she lets listeners get closer to the stories—and to the person telling them. It’s not therapy on tape, but there is a sense of someone reclaiming her space.
The live show reflects that balance. Big, electric moments are still the spine—this is a post‑grunge band with a punch. But the acoustic cuts change the temperature of the room. The crowd settles. Phones drop. You can hear the choir of voices on the chorus instead of the PA swallowing it whole. It reshapes the set into a ride rather than a sprint.
The band dynamic is key to making that work. Phillips and Momsen have a long, locked-in chemistry; when the guitars go clean, their timing becomes the whole point. Perkins shifts from hard-hitting patterns to brushes and light touches that frame the vocal instead of fighting it. Damon finds that low-end lane where warmth beats volume. It’s the same team, just solving a different problem.
What’s striking is how natural this all sounds. Acoustic projects can feel like detours—nice, but separate from the main road. This one doesn’t. It plays like an extension of the last era, not a reset. If Death by Rock and Roll was a statement of force, Other Worlds is a statement of trust: in the writing, in the voice, in the band.
For new listeners, the entry points are obvious. The Keeper shows off the tone that’s won over rock radio without the distortion. 25 (reimagined) proves a big song can survive—and even grow—when you take away the armor. From there, the whole set opens up, each track a small case study in restraint paying off.
- Why this record matters now: it widens the band’s range without sacrificing identity.
- It delivers something fans have wanted: a formal, well-recorded cut of their acoustic side.
- It bridges eras in the live show, letting loud and quiet feed each other instead of compete.
- It captures a turning point for Momsen—steady, present, and creatively hungry.
Back in Prague, the soundcheck calls, and the night is about to start. The rooms on this run aren’t quiet by nature; The Pretty Reckless will make them that way for a few minutes at a time, then light the fuse again. Other Worlds gives them that new lever to pull. You can hear the relief in it, and the readiness too—the sense of a band that knows exactly where it wants to go next.
