CD Review: Phantom Planet – “Devastator” (2020)

In 2020, few things have sparked the strangest trends quite like the Coronavirus. The global pandemic has inspired so many artists to challenge themselves to create provocative art. Charli XCX released an album after only six weeks of recording. Other bands who have remained long dormant have begun to pop up with new sounds that rank among some of their best work. Bands like The Strokes, X, and now Sun Ra have come forward with news that they will be out there, giving us a great new sound to dance to. 

Among those that you should probably mark off on your bingo card is Phantom Planet. With “Devastator,” the band breaks their 12-year hiatus with an album ripe with the themes of breaking up. It fills in the gaps of what happened since they last returned from a hiatus following the 2008 album “Raise the Dead” (get it?), itself an album following a four-year hiatus. What exactly do they have to say in 2020 that would strike anyone as vital, needing to return to a band best known for The O.C. theme song “California” and a nice place on the alternative rock charts for a very brief window?

Well if you’re Alex Greenwald, the answer is something that nobody really wants to face. Because of his relationship with actress Brie Larson, it meant that their break-up was going to be public, and thus forcing the public to thrash criticism on every move. Similarly, the other members of Phantom Planet have gone on to become adults, forming families and living independent lives with various side projects. If you asked Greenwald about “Devastator,” he would tell you that this was always the case. They were going to return. It just so happened to take 12 years to get there.

Like all of the best reunions, this is a story of finding out what their value was to the modern zeitgeist. Whereas most bands likely burned out on their style and evolved, Phantom Planet would double down on the familiar, bringing with it a mature group of lyrics that made the album more melancholic, self-reflecting and full of wisdom. This is what it’s like for Greenwald to be 40, eager to understand himself through music. 

That may explain why the catalyst for this album came when Greenwald was staying at friend Mark Ronson’s house. When he was stuck with a piano, he began to write a break-up song, which became very cathartic. It’s the motivation for everything that followed and may explain why this album has this underlying sense of woe. The artwork even depicts a wedding ceremony about to be interrupted by terrible weather, a taboo so rich with a subtext that you can’t help but hear the songs before the record starts.

So with the hiatus over, what does the band have to say? On the opening “BALISONG,” it comes clear how much Greenwald and crew have been trying to find reason to get together:

Balisong, sweet balisong

I'm gonna keep her in my pocket

Till the right time comes along

I got my balisong in my pocket so long

And when I need her don't you know

She's gonna sing that sweet song

While a balisong references a blade, it’s easy to see it as this cherished weapon that the band carries in their sound, waiting to release it with its full impact. Even the clever use of said knife in the lyric video shows they’re waiting to attack, adding the penchant guitars to drive the melody. You’re eager to hear what the album has in store. Phantom Planet are teasing fans with this opener, making every catchy moment an earworm. It’s anticipation of the 10 songs to come, and by that point you’re realizing how precise this all is.

By the time that the song ends with “I know because she told me so,” it’s clear that this is a war of sorts between Greenwald and somebody else. The great reunion record is a get together to tear it apart, allowing the pain that’s been sitting inside of him come out. If he didn’t say these things, you could expect him to lash out with a knife in a more direct way, even alluding to butterfly knives and claiming that she has changed. Things are over, and there is a sadistic quality to it all, reflecting an anger that is hushed down by his calm voice, looking at it maturely as opposed to aggressively.

The next song “Party Animal” finds this anger being translated into an attempt to move on and have a good time. Even as he’s surrounded by a lot of fun imagery, even a chorus that features a clever refrain of “part animal, part party animal,” it manages to show a divide between the adult and the instinct, where you’re always distracted by problems outside of your control. You’re reckless, but also meticulous. Greenwald sings:

I'll come howling 'round your corner

Like some monster on a motor

When I turn up this whole place will run for cover

Yeah, yeah, yeah, 'cause

We're not only trying to survive

Us kids are trying to have a good time too, alright?

The vibrant imagery is fun, reflective of what makes “Devastator” an intriguing album beyond its dark subject matter. This is the type of song that could’ve been lifted from a decade ago, where there’s constant struggle of identity, and you’re eager to have some breakthrough to the fun moments, the ones that make life worth living. With constant allusions to trying to survive, there’s a sense that the world is out to kill Phantom Planet, and it’s just so much fun finding the angst in ostensibly their dance song.

Whether you see the next song as continuing remorse or simply a song that feels painfully relevant during the COVID-19 age, “Only One” is a song about the value of human life. It’s setting aside differences and needing to be there for each other. Much like their best songs, the imagery of driving gives a powerful anticipation that they’re coming for you, ready to find happiness when they pull into your driveway:

When a light burst on the highway

And I thought I heard your name

If it was only in my head

Well, I heard it just the same

If there’s any value of Phantom Planet in 2020, it’s their ability to add their own insight into the changing world. Their approach has a Southern California charm where the beaches and highways all create these intertwining obstacles for their songs, where even the saddest of songs sound like a breeze is flowing through, freshening up their souls as they look around at billboards and skyscrapers, eager to find their place in this big, industrial world. It’s the type of reason that informs songs like “Through the Trees” Where they attempt to find answers while wandering around aimlessly, eager to reach some point of happiness. The same could be said for “Dear Dead End,” which explores how the past can be full of unproductive paths:

Dear dead end

You became my closest friend

I followed you down so far beyond

The places I’d already gone

'Til we came to a stop

It looks a lot like my old block

As much as this is a break-up record, it’s also an exploration of phantoms that live in Greenwald’s mind. This is the world that has occurred in the past 12 years, where small things begin to change and only then are we able to see what they look like in their true form. The songs of woe are the best moments on this album, whether it be the highlight “Only One” or “Time Moves On.” These are the songs that feel purposeful on “Devastator.” They are the ones who you find the band feeling the most vital.

That isn’t to say that everything else is bland. It’s just that the album lacks the ability to carry its charm throughout every song. Greenwald gives his all, but at certain points you long to get out of the wallowing and have moments of optimism. While that’s true of “Waiting for the Lights to Change,” which takes that theme literally, the closing songs find the band being their most playful, eager to challenge their sound and give teasers of rejuvenation.

“Gold Body Spray” is especially kooky as it adds on synths to the choppy guitars that make for a pop sound. If the previous tracks were about the break-up, feeling an emotional weight that burdens every moment, this is where things start to pick up and you get the sense that it’s a period to have fun. Not like the disingenuous “Party Animal,” but something pure and reflective of self. Following the self-acceptance of “Gold Body Spray,” things end with “ROTK,” which may be a synonym for return of the king.

After all, this jubilant celebration has repetitive imagery of coming back, that the weight of everything that’s come before is now gone and that Greenwald needs to strike out on his own:

Well, the end is really the beginning

You’ll find out when I return

You better put your hands together

You’ll find out when I return

Then again, that could just be a tease that our time with Phantom Planet is short-lived. Is this the return to another hiatus, waiting for them to emerge in their 50s with the middle-aged So Cal rock record? It’s hard to say, but what’s clear is that there’s a breakthrough for the singer here, experiencing a catharsis that clearly makes him feel better. It shines through in the choir arrangements that pop up on this song, making you find a piece of heaven on Earth.

While “Devastator” is not the most creatively diverse or interesting record, it’s one that finds a band symbolic of 21st century So Cal youth reaching the next stage of their life, eager to mature into functional adults. They bring with them personal experiences that they’ve built on their own, and the results are endearing enough, creating some fun imagery amid a sad subject matter. If nothing else, this is a break-up record that is distinct in its lyrical form, features a lot of creative moments that keep the listener engaged.

It may not be the most vital record to come after a long hiatus, but it’s definitely one that won’t disappoint fans who still get a little nostalgic hearing the piano kick in for “California.” More than anything, it’s an honest reflection of a band that doesn’t have much to prove. They’ve been humbled, and this victory lap holds enough warm moments, likely to keep those company as they wait for the quarantine to end and life to return to normal. Like Greenwald’s own relationship, the pain will pass and the next phase will start. All that we have to do is stay positive.