You've already heard Phantom Planet a million times; their song "California" is the theme of that all-consuming cultural tornado known as The OC. But you might not know that Raise the Dead is the fourth album from the Californian quartet most famous for the unashamedly poppy, ironically optimistic rock of The Guest (2002). Since then, Phantom Planet spent their third record exploring a Strokes-like assault on audio quality that resulted in a gorgeously-textured exploration of their darker side. Their self-titled album (2004's Phantom Planet) was so bubbling over with melodic concepts, dense songwriting, vitriol and an impossible blend of unrestrained emotion and complete resignation that critics were probably too confused to give it a chance. And so they used the objectively wrong excuse that it sounded like The Strokes as a way of dismissing what can only be seen, in retrospect, as a shaggy masterpiece.

Raise the Dead, taking off from Phantom Planet, is a collection of pop songs in the classic sense, and it thrives on variety. "Ship Lost at Sea" is the epitome of Stones strut, complete with a blatting saxophone and distorted keyboard. "I Don't Mind" attempts a late-stage acoustic Beatles feel, even if it doesn't quite succeed. And from the four-chord retro rock of "Do the Panic" to the instantly hummable whistle-while-you-work melody of "Leader" (featuring, rightly enough, a choir of kindergarteners), half of these songs recall the almost desperately poppy songwriting on The Guest-with a twist. Alex Greenwald has always had a tragically good voice, but this time around, the contortions and emotive yelps have reached a new apogee. He's capable of sounding like a drunken sailor in one moment ("Geronimo") and Thom Yorke's younger, more attractive brother in the next ("Quarantine").

I have nothing against pop music, especially well-written pop music, which is what we're dealing with. But where Raise the Dead is most successful isn't in the sha-doobie-doos or the resolving chords. The more brooding elements, and there are plenty, show off a range and emotional depth only hinted at on earlier releases. "Confess" opens with an explosion of sound, only to explore a simple acoustic structure. The spooky groove of "Demon Daughters" expands into a loud, nervy chorus only to collapse in on itself, revealing a dirge-like whisper-of-a-middle-eight reminiscent of OK Computer-era Radiohead. "Raise the Dead," the simplest song on here, might be the perfect opener, showing off Phantom Planet's newfound freedom-a freedom to investigate their love of craft without having to hide it in stylized distortion. Surprisingly, the song pushes five minutes, mostly meditates on two chords, and never overstays its welcome.

But it's probably a mistake to say that Phantom Planet have matured. Check out only a few lyrics here, and you'll find the living dead, cult leaders, beheadings, mysterious sicknesses, monsters, coffins, violent sex-basically nothing you'd expect from a serious band. At the same time, the undeniable dichotomy between the subject matter and the exalted mood of the music hints at a wise sort of self-consciousness. Greenwald has suggested that Raise the Dead is a concept album about a cult-it isn't. Still, there are some sinister foundations under the shimmering pop-rock façade.

Raise the Dead is an especially appropriate title considering the protracted four years since the band last hit the shelves. A few years ago, internal struggles resulted in Phantom Planet being dropped from Epic Records, and only recently were they picked up again-by a label called Fueled By Ramen. Yes, that's Fueled By Ramen, best known for its lackluster, teen-girl-friendly repertoire of artists that includes Panic At The Disco, The Academy Is..., Cute Is What We Aim For, and the oft-mocked but ever-present Fall Out Boy.

The label choice doesn't make much sense in the context of an album like Phantom Planet, but the flurry of singles that opens Raise the Dead offers an album that's as interested in the prospects of its own fame as it is in the macabre. "Leader," "Do the Panic," "Dropped," and "Leave Yourself for Somebody Else" are each more than capable of launching Raise the Dead into the overground, and there are plenty of teenage girls who are already in love with the good-looking Mr. Greenwald and company. "Ship Lost at Sea" even presents the iconic final lines: "I could be your boyfriend / And you could pretend not to know me!" But if that drives you off, if you'd rather go to a concert surrounded by people your own age who pretend not to enjoy the music because it looks cooler, then, well, that's your business.