Forget Phantom Planet is a Hollywood band.

Sure, drummer Jason Schwartzman starred in “Rushmore” and “Slackers,” and vocalist/guitarist Alex Greenwald was a Gap model.

But it doesn’t matter.

Phantom Planet isn’t stereotypically glitzy, pretentious or fake.

Instead, the band has almost effortlessly achieved one of the most difficult tasks in modern music: creating a sincere pop rock album.

From the simple, inviting piano riff of “California” to the crackling urgency of Greenwald’s vocals in “All Over Again,” “The Guest” is an honest, graceful album.

During “Anthem,” Greenwald explains how he might have, just possibly, written the perfect pop song – “Because this whole world needs an anthem/and I’m trying to put the words where they belong/Yeah, this whole world needs an anthem/and I’m hoping everyone will sing along.”

Greenwald need not worry – everyone will.

Scattered paranoia drives “In Our Darkest Hour” – “Well, we have got to get out of here/ In our darkest hour, I think the end is near/ I can feel it” – but Phantom Planet gives its best warning during the surefire hit “California.”

“California, here we come.”

-Jon Dahlager

With punk lying perilously close to death these days, fans should be thankful someone is trying to keep the spirit of change and protest that gave the genre its lifeblood.

New York punk rockers the Panthers lash out with a well-intentioned debut that succeeds in perpetuating the positive aspects of punk rock, but fails to escape the uni-dimensionality mature listeners will probably find repetitive.

The album certainly captures the energy that made the punk rock of the late `70s so groundbreaking; most of the songs are less than three minutes long, and all of them are played with the sort of sloppy frenzy generally reserved for live albums.

Vocalist Jayson Green belts the band’s messages out with an explosive voice devoid of melody, almost chanting his lyrics at the top of his lungs.

“We are not a band,” he proclaims on the band’s staccato opener, “Vandalist Committee of Public Safety,” “We are a cabal of terrorists.”

Terrorists, apparently, against everything from artists (“After God, art is next to die”) to educators (“You’re all impotent fools until you smash your teacher’s face in and set fire to the faculty”) to their fellow punks (“Fuck anarchy; there’s too many rules”).

While the messages are certainly interesting, and refreshing in an age where all it takes to be considered “punk” is to run around naked in the street and write songs about drinking and pornography, the Panthers never give the listener more than just reactionary posturing and monotone screaming.

“Are You Down??” tries hard to make a difference, but, lacking the eclecticity of Bad Brains or the Clash, it will probably only be embraced by those extremely jaded with modern “punk.”

-Darryl Moton

Samhain (pronounced Sow-een) was Glenn Danzig’s second attempt at creating murderous soundtracks for the end of the world.

Prior to Samhain, he fronted the legendary horror outfit known as the Misfits. Critics who dismissed them as a campy horror film with a pulse had reason to hesitate labeling this second incarnation as another joke.

Danzig’s songwriting had matured and grown after the Misfit’s demise, taking on a more apocalyptic flavor.

The songs clearly represented the flamed imagery of the Druidic holiday from which their name was taken.

Until now, “Unholy Passion” has been available only on vinyl since its initial release in 1985. The first pressings of “Final Descent” did include the sum of the six songs with additional tracks, but both of these albums now stand on their own with the Samhain catalog being reissued.

This EP is representative of the sound Samhain created during their career, but lacks an abundant amount of substance. “All Hell” is a revamped cover of the Misfit’s “All Hell Breaks Loose” and “Misery Tomb” is simply a slew of yells and chants over a few bass lines.

Danzig was intent on bringing about the apocalypse with tracks “Moribund” and “I Am Misery.” “I make your pain and suffering infernal/Turn your body inside out/Put you past your breath and tears/When all you lost is misery.”

Those obsessed with the career probably already have this disc.

And the really crazy bastards out there probably have it on vinyl resting atop a blackened shrine next to a goat’s head.

Give it a go.

For your money, “November-Coming-Fire” is a safer bet.

Hail Satan!

– Boonie Boone