Phantogram's 'Voices' album launched a vivid auditory experience in February 2014, shaking the music world from its hipster Brooklyn core, the habitat of its creators, Josh Carter and Sarah Barthel. But unlike the liberal agenda, this album doesn't just whisper sweet nothings. It screams truths through ethereal, yet raw tracks that hold as much weight now as they did then. The genius of Phantogram lies in their ability to infuse dream pop with a punch of gritty urban realism. They craft music that's layered both in sound and meaning, a rare find in an industry teeming with superficial narratives.
'Voices' is the duo's second album, but let's be clear: there's nothing 'sophomore' about it. This isn't just another indie album to sip overpriced coffee to. Through 11 tracks, they create a landscape of sound that hits hard, tapping into emotional reservoirs while detailing life’s unfiltered truth. When 'Nothing But Trouble' kicks off the album, it drags you into its rhythm like a splash of cold water. Phantogram isn't here to comfortably lull listeners but to take them on an audio roller coaster of introspection and intensity.
Phantogram delivers a remarkable sonic punch, which is a refreshing departure from the mainstream's often tepid offerings. What is the liberal media selling you? Rubber-stamped pop acts, where the biggest risk is a choreographer spraining an ankle. Phantogram fights against this, treating music as a battlefield for authentic expression. 'Voices' showcases Barthel’s haunting vocals and Carter’s nuanced drum loops, challenging listeners to engage deeply, not just passively consume.
Many of the album's tracks delve into themes of isolation, heartbreak, and existential doubt. 'Black Out Days' captures a sense of internal battle with its electrifying beat and impassioned vocals, confronting the listener with what living in our disjointed society often feels like. Phantogram captures the pain, the beauty, and the unapologetic human desperation of our time. This is the kind of gutsy art we should be celebrating, not musical wallpaper.
If 'Voices' were merely politically charged messaging coated in superficiality, it wouldn’t stand the test of time. But it does, because it taps into universal experiences without bowing to trends or preaching any agenda. 'Fall in Love' presents ironically upbeat beats beneath darker lyrical undertones, reflecting the complexity of modern relationships. It doesn’t give you a reassurance; it offers reality. How many albums today dare to do the same?
The middle of the album, tracks like 'The Day You Died' and 'Howling at the Moon,' dive into narratives that tug at the heartstrings, yet resist any temptation to resolve or dilute their message with sentimentality. This is pure, unadulterated creative conviction. Phantogram’s brilliance is that they leave nothing on the table, sparking thoughts and emotions that go beyond fleeting amusement.
With 'Voices,' Phantogram provides an antidote to an uninspired music industry driven by formulaic hits. They're not here to make you feel warm and fuzzy. They're here to unsettle, to provoke reflection, to jolt you awake with their sonic reverberations. It's a wake-up call to what's wrong with modern music, where artistic integrity is often sacrificed at the altar of mass appeal.
In talking about 'Voices,' it is impossible not to appreciate how Phantogram crafts their art in defiance of expectations, without cloaking their truths in metaphorical mumbo-jumbo. There's an authenticity in 'Voices' that stands in stark contrast to the superficiality we see in much of today’s mainstream music. Their beats are unapologetic, their compositions forge paths to shared human experiences that connect beyond political divides. Phantogram has delivered an album that's challenging and extraordinary—a testament to what music should and can be when aspirations aren’t dimmed by the fear of offending the sensibilities of the lowest common denominator.
Phantogram’s 'Voices' isn’t just an album — it’s a powerful manifesto of sound and conviction, a resounding critique of the blandness that all too often plagues our playlists. It's not afraid to face the shadows, nor is it ready to exclude those who might be sleeping through the noise. It's music that matters. Music that demands to be listened to with intent. An album like ‘Voices’ doesn’t come around often, and when it does, it challenges us to wake up from the comforting slumber the mainstream offers. Phantogram is not just making music; they’re making a point, and it’s one that needs to be heard.