While I anticipated Phantogram’s album new album “Three” to be the highlight of my year, the alternative duo left me wanting something from them that I fear they will never find.

These artists, who once had arguably the edgiest sound for its style and genre, have sold out for the grunge-pop that fits flawlessly into Top 40 stations. While this might make monetary sense, it also creates a likely opportunity for people to get sick of their songs quickly.

The thing is, it isn’t the selling out that irks me the most. As much as I hate to say it, the songs are just bad. Furthermore, they’re not even consistently bad, in the sense that some songs have melodies that want you to rip your ears off, while others have lyrics that are so sickly sad you wish they would make you cry so you could drown in your tears and be put out of your misery.

When the first song from the album was released, “You Don’t Get Me High Anymore,” it immediately overtook the stations. I will admit I had high hopes. That is until Sarah Barthel, the lead vocalist of the group, started singing. While Barthel is quite talented and has a killer voice, the lyrics sound like the ranting of a 16-year-old in her diary.

While the melody and rhythm are catchy for the most part, the song is just begging for attention. They have a forced depth. While on the surface she is discussing a drug addiction, it’s obvious she’s using it as a metaphor for losing love in someone. While the idea is a good one, it’s executed in a way where you feel like you’ve been beaten over the head with it. Every time it comes on the radio now I turn it off.

The fifth track on the album “Barking Dog” has the exact opposite problem. While the lyrics are beautiful, and at some points, I’d argue poetic, the vocals and melody are absolutely terrible. The entire song sounds metallic and leaves me with the largest headache. If it was produced and executed in a way where it was clear that was their intention, my opinion could be swayed. But as of right now, the entire track sounds half-assed and full of flaws.

Meanwhile a track like “Cruel World” has promise. It’s soft and has playful piano, and, while it’s not traditional Phantogram, I can get on board with playing around with other styles of music when it is executed like this track. That is until you get to the first chorus. Barthel’s beautiful vocals are cut off by a forced electronic beat that I can only compare to the feeling of trying to close a suitcase when it’s too full. It’s frustrating and you just want to be done with it already.

There is one song on the entire album that settles comfortably on my musical palette. “You’re Mine” is edgy, rough, and raw. It’s reminiscent of old Phantogram, with strong electronic beats and raspy vocals. While it’s not my favorite Phantogram song, it’s a welcome break from the steaming pile that is the rest of the album. If you were to listen to any song on the album, please let it be this one.
Perhaps I’m asking too much from them. I realize artists need to make money. The idea of “selling out” has never bothered me as long as the artist stays true to the soul and the growth of the music. However, to the simple listener, this doesn’t seem to be the case. While I will never truly know why Phantogram has started down this path, I hope it leads them to a better sound than they have now.