It expanded the bounds of what alternative rock could be, what rap-metal could be and what Incubus could become. could’ve been on this list: the bizarre talk-disco of “Vitamin,” the anti-fundamentalist punk of “Favorite Things,” the bachelor-pad lounge of “Summer Romance (Anti-Gravity Love Song)” that came complete with yacht-rock sax solo. “How do you do it / Make me feel like I do” is bashful and cute, just like the up-and-coming sex symbol was supposed to be.ġ. On it, “Stellar” ( covered splendidly by Jamila Woods last year) splits the difference between complexity (Mike Eizinger’s mind-bending verse riff, unlike anything else on the radio before or since, except maybe a Timbaland production) and simplicity (Boyd’s lovelorn space metaphors still working for him after “Anti-Gravity Love Song”).

Make Yourself is probably Incubus’ most beloved record, where many longtime fans were introduced and it had a string of big hits. Early single “A Certain Shade of Green” perfectly encapsulated Incubus when they were still novel, with blasts of guitar crunch paired with what-is-going-on-behind-here funk chaos in the verses that would’ve made Thundercat proud and a downward-rollercoaster of a descending riff in the lurching chorus. had little need for negative space - which it rudely filled with slap-bass and alien effects that could neither be ID’d as guitarist or DJ - and it’s when the band was arguably at its shambling best. Incubus’ 1997 major-label debut S.C.I.E.N.C.E. “A Certain Shade of Green” (from S.C.I.E.N.C.E., 1997) Incubus Looks Back on Its 20-Year-Plus Legacy: 'We Carved Our Own Path'ģ. A synth? Some kind of treated sample? Ultra-filtered guitar? Of course, the chorus blasts in with the familiar, ear-filling crunch of guitar as Brandon Boyd’s hook wanders a tightrope between odd and pop. “Glass,” one of its many would-be singles that wasn’t, is a perfect example: just try and identify any of the sounds in the verse that aren’t bass or drums. was such a kaleidoscopic palette of thrilling sounds to have whirled into one blender that it really tempts one to wonder how large a role DJ Lyfe - who never appeared on another record by the band (and apparently threatened his longtime replacement Chris Kilmore one more than one occasion) - played in the group. How often does that balance crystallize into a thundering rock song?

And yet for all this labor and flexing, it’s completely at peace with itself - note those placid verses and whirring turntable effects. And on the huge hit “Wish You Were Here” he brokers a successful truce between easy and difficult, riding the crashing wave of the simplest chorus he’ll ever write (“I wish you were here / I wish you were here”) and pulling the notes like they’re taffy, contorting them into something impossible for any mere mortal to karaoke justifiably. “Wish You Were Here” (from Morning View, 2001)īeing an Incubus fan is a near-constant battle between trying to decide if you want them easy or difficult, as you ultimately applaud them for doing things most bands don’t - including perhaps unflattering vocal choices. Brandon Boyd attacks an otherwise conventional rock song like Ani DiFranco jazzing around her own unfathomable strum patterns. With its easy riff imbued with double-time intensity, warmly harmonized chorus sung with all the earnest anxiety that the goofy title pun on “anomaly” deserves, it’s weird to think this wasn’t a bigger hit.Ĩ. Thanks to its unforgettable hook, “Anna-Molly” might be the quintessential Incubus single. Its centerpiece “Sick Sad Little World” was a six-minute minor prog epic that compressed their artsy bass moves and time-signature somersaults into something any ’80s kid could process: A Police song! Brandon Boyd’s against-the-beat yelping and the unmistakably “Message in a Bottle”-derived riff here gave Incubus’ nü-metal a welcome jolt of Sting.ġ0. “Sick Sad Little World” (from A Crow Left of the Murder…, 2004)įans disappointed by “Megalomaniac,” the least nuanced Bush diatribe to hit hard-rock radio in 2004 (“You’re no Jesus/ Yeah, you’re no f-ing Elvis”) were probably starting to realize these oddballs were turning into regular-balls, but there’s no way a weirdo title like A Crow Left of the Murder… wasn’t gonna have an off-kilter jam or three.

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