Five years ago, Phantom Planet was momentarily famous for two reasons. The first was a catchy pop sound so sunny that "California" became the ubiquitous theme for "The O.C." The second was the presence of actor Jason Schwartzman ("Rushmore" (1998)) behind the drum kit.
By the time the band's self-titled third album was released, Schwartzman had departed to pursue acting, and the upbeat ear candy of "The Guest" (2002) left with him. "Phantom Planet" (2004) was full of generic fuzz and feedback as the remaining members of the band tried to ride the garage rock wave a few months too late. The stylistic 180 failed to reel in the "O.C." crowd, and Phantom Planet was dropped by Epic Records. For its triumphant return, the band was rescued by Fueled by Ramen, the label that lords over bands like Panic at the Disco and Fall Out Boy.
Instead of adopting the sound of their new label mates for "Raise the Dead," though, Phantom Planet attempts to marry the anthemic pop elements of "The Guest" with the rollicking stomp-rock rhythms of "Phantom Planet." The product sounds surprisingly like a low-rent, high-distortion version of The Strokes. Vocalist Alex Greenwald wails and mumbles just like a junior Julian Casablancas, sometimes walking the fine line between singing and outright yelling. Jacques Brauther on guitar does his best Albert Hammond, Jr. impression, supplying endless catchy riffs and staccato solos.
The title track triumphantly announces the return of Phantom Planet's pop-rock sound, and it's here that the band comes closest to separating itself from the rest of the neo-garage pack. The album features more than its fair share of sing-along backup vocals that make even lyrically grim songs seem exciting and optimistic.
"Leader," one of the album's best tracks, boasts a serene mid-tempo beat that hearkens back to the sun-and-fun feeling of the band's earlier fare. Lead single "Do the Panic" urges listeners to "turn up your radio" and maybe even dance around. On "Leave Yourself for Somebody Else," the driving beat enhances the jubilant melody instead of fighting against it.
"Dropped," the album's most successful track, combines Phantom Planet's two aesthetics most effectively. The song is high-energy with a shout-along chorus and a hand-clapped beat. The production is clean, using a lighter touch than the noise-filled rock attempts, and the outcome is infectious.
The more outright rock tracks are somewhat less effective. The fuzzy noise on "Demon Daughters" overwhelms any melody hiding beneath. "Geronimo" fails to support its own pounding, Meg White-esque drumbeat. These tracks seem more like sonic experiments than completely constructed tracks on a decade-old band's fourth album.
For most of the album, the band mixes rock and pop elements with mediocre results. Many songs have elements, licks and phrases that reveal the band's pop sensibilities but that don't tie into the muddy orchestration of the rest of the song. The band experiments with a baritone saxophone and guitar distortion in "Ship Lost At Sea," but Greenwald's slurring vocals ultimately don't do enough to let the vigorous melody soar above the discordant groove.
More experimentation - this time with '80s guitars, synthesized keyboards and jungle drums - weighs down "Too Much Too Often." A lot of sounds are happening, but it seems as though the band never stopped to figure out where the song is going. Similar problems plague "Confess," which begins sparsely but soon erupts in a wall of noise, while the melody still doesn't sound fully realized.
