I should probably go ahead and be up front with guitarist Sam Farrar of Phantom Planet and tell him that his band’s infectious surf-and-sun hit “California”— which earned my devotion in part because of its selection as the theme song of the first hot, then passé, and now pop culturally iconic The O.C. -- is still the ringtone on my cell phone.


I don’t mention it, though. I figure that Farrar and his bandmates likely spent the better part of four years fielding questions about their association with the teen soap, so to bring up that song again seems more than a little marginalizing, especially considering that for more than a decade now, Phantom Planet has accomplished a seemingly basic but critical feat for any successful band — they have kept making music together. Perhaps this is why, of the many layers of meaning that can be derived from the title of Phantom Planet’s new album, Raise the Dead, the most significant is that of resurrection.

Farrar confirms that acknowledging the band’s reemergence was one major theme of the title track, and indeed, the album itself.
“There are all sorts of references in that song. But yeah, of course that’s one of them. It was supposed to be the most triumphant song on the record, you know, that started us off and announced that we were back.”

The title is also a nod to fans who have stuck with the band through their almost four-year-long hiatus. “We took a break, we went through a lot of ups and downs, a lot of fighting — we lost a member, we changed labels, we had all sorts of stuff that I think an average fan would probably have given up a little while ago, but we’re back.”


In a musical landscape where bands do their first magazine cover shoot before they release a record and often fall off the radar after one single, Farrar, lead singer Alex Greenwald, guitarist Darren Robinson, and drummer Jeff Conrad (Phantom Planet’s newest member who replaces Jason Schwartzman) are something of an anomaly, having been a part of the amorphous indiepop- rock scene since 1994, when they were barely old enough to drive themselves to gigs. “I think [being around this long] is really special. I mean there aren’t many bands who can say it. We’ve literally grown up together – it’s like having a bunch of extra brothers,” says Farrar.

The title of musical veterans is one that they revel in, though it may conjure an image slightly more grizzled than the members of Phantom Planet, who still look fit to be carded at a bar. But having recently toured with some of their new Fueled by Ramen labelmates, Farrar laughingly acknowledges the differences between his band and the younger performers.“I don’t know how young I’d say we are anymore. We just toured with Paramore and they’re like 19. It was like, ‘Ok, I’m 10 years older than you are. That’s weird.’”

Accumulating experience and credibility definitely has its perks, however, such as being able to take a risk by making an album that is, while chock-full of quintessential rock tracks.


When asked about the album’s influences, Farrar responds, “I know Al literally went out and listened to a bunch of cult music — a lot of dark, crazy stuff.” Some of the songs, like the brilliantly arranged “Leader,” which uses a children’s choir in the chorus and sounds almost like a playground chant, seem innocuous enough on first listen, but take on a more sinister meaning upon closer examination.

Though Farrar explains that there is not one specific concept they are addressing with the album, the band seems to have embraced the cult thread whole-heartedly, encouraging fans to buy a newly-designed sweatshirt — that the members of Phantom Planet themselves plan to sport on their upcoming Honda Civic Tour — to wear to the shows. The vision is to have audience and performers, band and fans, look exactly alike.

Farrar gives the topic a thoughtful pause before adding, “It could be kind of creepy.” Creepy, perhaps. But if it helps, just think of it as a rousing game of follow the leader.

By Erin Gaetz