Phantom Planet
A Bashing, Free-Wheeling Party Scene
Sep 4, 2008
Words by Sean Moeller
Illustration by Johnnie Cluney
Sound engineering by Patrick Stolley
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Welcome to Daytrotter
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Leader
original version appears on Raise the Dead
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Leave Yourself For Some…
original version appears on Raise the Dead
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Raise The Dead
original version appears on Raise the Dead
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Ship Lost At Sea
original version appears on Raise the Dead
Synopsis by Phantom Planet's Alex Greenwald:"First off, after finding ourselves in a new city without any idea of how we got there or where we were going next, we did know one thing for certain we were gonna do the Globetrotter Sessions. Boy were we wrong! We walked several blocks through the streets of a small town, winding up at the door of the studio where we were going to record the DAYTROTTER Sessions. We spent the next hour setting up the equipment in the studio. We used tiny amps for the guitars because Darren and I have discovered that the smaller the amp, the bigger the sound. By no means is this a new discovery, but just like the Asians crossed the land bridge into North America and the Vikings may have also discovered North America, Darren and I are going to use this new discovery like M.F.'n Christopher Columbus.After getting the levels of the instruments to our liking, it was time to pick the songs we wanted to play for the Globetrotter Sessions, oops. I had come down with a minor case of laryngitis, which for anyone unfamiliar with the disease, is an inflammation of the ego.We decided to play four songs from our new record, Raise the Dead. For some reason, all of us immediately agreed on "Raise the Dead" being the first song. It just seemed right. Oh, I know why. Because it's the first song on our new record, and it's also the title track. Next up, we did "Leader" which also seemed quite fitting because the 12 or so kindergarteners we had hired to perform with us were contractually obligated to be at a show and tell back at school at noon. Next we played "Ship Lost at Sea" which I believe might have been the first public performance of the song and of course the second time it was ever recorded, but we all had fun yelling and screaming in it. Lastly, but not leastly, for the Daytrotter sessions, we played "Leave Yourself for Somebody Else," which was the song that I personally had the most fun playing. I felt just like the singer of the "New Canadian Guns N Roses". The whole band and I are proud of these recordings especially because they're all live and recorded in one take, no studio tricks. It went straight to tape.And tape, for any of you guys who don't know what that is, is something your parents used to record Murder She Wrote. Wait, no…Columbo. I hope you enjoy it. This. I don't even know. Whatever it is. Whatever this is. This is it. Ooh that's a good end line. Ok good. That's it. Ok, you can put at the bottom Dictated to Jeff Conrad. While driving from Chicago to Detroit. You get all that?"
The four members of Phantom Planet strive for the nights that leave you sprawled and reeling on the ground by the morning. The highest form of compliment that they could give to an evening and all that transpired would be a froggy exclamation of, "Fuck yeah." It would be trying to choke out some words that escape as a squeak of hoarseness. A breathlessness comes from shredding all of the hydrated tissue from the throat and vocal cords clean off until there's nothing but a dry husk hanging past the sticky tongue. This happens all the time in their music. Lead singer Alex Greenwald warns, "Be careful not to drink too much," but those words of advice are to be thrown into the fan. He doesn't really mean to exhibit caution. Caution is for the wind and for babies. Those words wouldn't be worth the paper they were written on, if that were his method of passing them along. They aren't worth the tattered air that he affixes them to in the song.
The band - in its harried pace - travels into the dead of night and turns on all of the lights, throws the electricity up to its steepest levels and then it just goes bonkers in an attempt to get intimate and sweaty with that old saying that the good Latin people used: carpe diem. They thrash through their days as if there were no more to thrash through, as if they were trying to pull all of doors off the hinges, shatter all of the fine china and windows, liquefy all of the cars after setting playful fire to them - sending a flowing stream of broken shards, bolts, doorknobs and tire rubber through the street. Greenwald is okay with letting the hoarseness overcome him at times - in fits of perfect timing, it always sounds - when there's so much going on with his active imagination and his tendency to just lose himself.
They do raise the dead, just as their latest album suggests, and they ask them to do nothing to thank them for the service, for the new life than to just join in the festivities - kick off their shoes and lose themselves enough in the dirty, party melee that by the time it all stops (when the cops come knocking at a neighbor's report of a noise disturbance or some damned kids pissing on their dog or welcome mat?) they're dead tired and back where they started, glad to have taken in one more night of frenzied mischief. It's hazardous to your health not to enjoy the unabashed recklessness and catchiness of this Californian band that has grown considerably since they were palling around Los Angeles with buddies Kara's Flowers (now Maroon 5) and writing those sunny summer love songs that the boardwalks, bikinis and tanned atmosphere seem to demand.
The band has progressed through the pin-up stage that they were in when actor Jason Schwartzman was still in the band as its stick man. Those days are ancient and those fluffier songs have given way to a more mature fare that harkens to the scruffiness and gnarly distortion that are the tools of every superior garage band. These are the lip curls, the tight jeans, the spills and the seizures, the black eyes and the high leg kicks all rolled into a shaky hip. You'll catch them out of breath often, heaving deep from the chest and they'll probably be smiling about it. They'll be worn out and they'll be keeping those vampire hours until they're all four old men, impatiently waiting to be raised again and told that the world's looking for a reprise. They will give it. It will sound as sweet and happily distorted as ever.
Phantom Planet Official Site
Phantom Planet MySpace Page
