Three

With ‘Three’, the band have perfected their trademark dream-pop, but it comes with an added, outer ring of moodiness. Sarah Barthel and Josh Carter have soundtracked the impending apocalypse.

It's neither ground-breaking, nor particularly soulful, but it's distinct enough and far cooler than you might expect.

There are just piles of good ideas plastered throughout. It moves gracefully from scorn-fueled breakup music to angsty and lustful power-pop, both darkly raw and high-class glam, making this an album worthy of a deeper emotional investment.

The album thoroughly excels at what it aims to do. Three is perhaps Phantogram’s most incisive record yet, sustaining a very solid and concrete idea of what kind of pop it wants to promote.

Three wears its scars where they’re visible, at times this makes for an uncomfortable and uneven listen, but when it clicks, they’re unstoppable.

Flaws and all, Three is where Phantogram has stepped up, projecting themselves as chart-conquering hedonistic demigods despite their lyrics conveying an absolute crippling unhappiness.

Phantogram have always been able to craft sleek, cerebral tunes, but it hasn't always been clear that they were having a blast doing it - until now.

Three's high points come when some of the pop veneer is pulled back to let more raw, real feeling through. Overall, it's a solid record that should draw a wider audience to Phantogram's music.

Three represents only an incremental progression, not the seismic shift of Voices, but it demonstrates the duo's ability to transform darkness into light, taking personal tragedy and shaping it into professional growth.

The problem remains that a lot of the hooks on the record are drowned in waves of production. Three feels like a record designed to make you move, rather than move you.

Between brooding, vulnerable cuts like “Barking Dog” and punchier offerings like “Run Run Blood,” Three often feels less like an album and more like postcards from the eye of an emotional hurricane.

Three underwhelms from beginning to end. It's the nature of pop to wear down all the sharp edges and streamline things for easy enjoyment, and it's too bad Phantogram felt the need to succumb.

It’s enjoyable. There are a few flashes. But by the time you make it home, few, if any, of the songs stick out in your brain.

Ultimately, it’s hard to be open to their new artistic approach when fans are reminded of their previously unique imagination on the soundtrack (‘When I’m Small’) to football show Soccer Saturday most weekends.