Barnes & Noble
This Southern California combo lost a member -- drummer Jason Schwartzman, who split during recording to concentrate on acting -- but added some weight since the release of their light and fluffy major-label debut, The Guest. On this self-titled follow-up, the quintet have taken on a decidedly less breezy 'n' beachy tone, replacing the jangle of songs like the O.C. theme "California" with a healthy dose of jitters and a smattering of angst. The latter element is particularly strong in the aggressive, ska-tinged "Badd Business," which might have a little to do with the showbiz trappings of their homeland. Elsewhere, the band segue into moody atmospherics worthy of mid-period Cure, on the loop-enhanced "Knowitall," and arcing psychedelia, on the album-ending "The Meantime," fortified by the sonic enhancements of producer Dave Fridmann, a veteran of blissed-out works by Mercury Rev and the Flaming Lips. Occasionally, Phantom Planet end up in territory that's a little too alien to traverse convincingly -- as on "Big Brat," which falls short in its attempt to re-create the Clash's reggae-punk fusion. Nevertheless, singer Alex Greenwald has developed quite a swagger, which, when played off the dueling guitars of Jacques Brautbar and Darren Robinson, gives Phantom Planet the air of a band that's ready to prove they're more than just a bunch of pretty faces. David Sprague
All Music Guide
Phantom Planet's self-titled third album finds the group turning its backs on the manicured pop of The Guest, which spawned the hit (and theme song for Fox TV's The O.C.) "California," in favor of a sound influenced by garagey New York bands like the Strokes. Alex Greenwald's formerly earnest croon is now a surly, slurry sneer, and the rest of the band follows suit, adopting a scuzzy sound as effortlessly as donning battered jean jackets and skinny ties. Phantom Planet's production is particularly striking, and strange: its cheap, compressed sound seems like it should be the work of someone like Strokes producer Gordon Raphael, but it's actually sonic mastermind Dave Fridmann behind the knobs. Why the band used one of rock's most intricate producers to emulate one of its most basic is something of a mystery, but Fridmann brings as much care to making Phantom Planet sound like they recorded this in the garage as he does to making other bands sound like they recorded their music on other planets. It's difficult to determine just how savvy the band's garage rock makeover is, but Phantom Planet isn't a bad fusion of noisy rock and the kind of music they were doing before. It works especially well when the band hangs on to the melodic sensibilities that made The Guest's best moments memorable: "The Happy Ending" kick starts the album with equal amounts of pummeling drums and bittersweetly ragged vocals; "1st Things 1st" is a model of aggressive, economical melody; and "The Meantime" rivals almost anything that appeared on Room on Fire. But while songs like "Badd Business" and "Jabberjaw" might be tighter and rock harder than their previous work, it's at the price of the melodies that used to be the band's strongest asset. These melodies return on the second half of Phantom Planet, which is nearly as pretty and atmospheric as the first half is raucous and dense. This sequencing tends to work against the album -- keeping the loud side loud and the quiet side quiet results in an album that is, on first listen, alternately over- and underwhelming. Nevertheless, both Fridmann and the band have some of their best moments on "By the Bed," "After Hours," and "Knowitall," all of which have as much impact, if not more, than the loudest songs and reaffirm that Phantom Planet really are a pop band at heart. The late-blooming acclaim for Guster and Fountains of Wayne, and of course, Phantom Planet's own success with "California" shows that there's always a place for well-crafted, unapologetically pop music. But this willfully noisy, messy album is ultimately just as contrived as the band's glossier sound was, and the shift from The Guest's winsome pop -- which was also a shift from their debut's heavily Weezer-influenced sound -- makes it difficult to get a grip on the band. Their O.C. fan base will probably miss their previous sound, and those who follow the garage rock bands may not accept Phantom Planet as that kind of group. Phantom Planet is by no means a bad album, but it is a slightly strange and frustrating one. Heather Phares
Rolling Stone
What Phantom Planet lack in stripped-down hooks they make up for with a full-bodied guitar attack and big, bloodletting choruses. Christian Hoard
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