As the lights dimmed and the crowd’s chatter turned into an escalating roar, there was a sense that something epic was about to go down at London’s Eventim Apollo. Enter Incubus, the band that served as the soundtrack to countless teenage rebellions and road trips. Not quite the titans of rock, but definitely the charming rebels who know how to turn chords into catharsis.
Before diving into the concert itself, let’s rewind back to 2001 when I was working at Sony Music on the marketing team. During a meeting in New York City where the labels presented their Q4 releases, something peculiar happened. The label rep introduced Incubus’s new album Morning View as one that would define their career. “We have something very special from a very special band,” he declared.
And it wasn’t just the hype talking. Morning View was unique—it was a sonic departure from the angst-ridden nu-metal of the time. It was as if Incubus took a deep breath, looked at the ocean, and decided to make music that was introspective, melodic, and expansive. The meeting room back then was a pressure cooker of anticipation, and you could practically feel the future beckoning. Now, as I stood in the Apollo over two decades later, I couldn’t help but wonder if Morning View would still resonate with the same force?
Brandon Boyd, the age-defying frontman, took the stage clad in clothes that looked like they were stolen from a bohemian thrift shop. His voice still had that signature, “I just rolled out of bed and somehow sound amazing” quality. Mike Einziger on the guitar was vibing as though he was solving a complex mathematical equation through riffs. The drums, manned by José Pasillas, felt like the heartbeat of the crowd. Chris Kilmore on turntables looked like a mad scientist concocting a potion of effortless record scratches and keys. And then there’s Nicole Row, the new bassist, who played like she’s been in the band since the days when flared jeans were a thing even though she’s the newbie.
They opened the set with “Karma, Come Back” followed by “Privilege,” getting the crowd immediately pumped. “Anna Molly” and “Just a Phase” kept the energy rolling. As “Nice to Know You” kicked in, the crowd was collectively hit by a wave of nostalgia and you could see people texting their high school exes, “Hey, remember Incubus?”
But they didn’t just focus on one era. Their set was a diverse buffet of auditory delights. “Glitterbomb” and “The Warmth” showcased the band’s versatility, and “Echo” was just hypnotic. When Boyd started singing The Beatles’ “Come Together,” he channeled his inner shaman and did a dance that could only be described as “wind-surfing on land.” It was weirdly enthralling.
“Vitamin” served as a delightful throwback, and when “Are You In” was played, it felt like the entire venue took it as a personal question. And, of course, “Pardon Me” and “Stellar” had people soaring. “Dig” felt like a high-five to the unsung hero of their discography. As the chords of “Wish You Were Here” filled the air, people were pretty much singing the song for the band and losing the collective shit during the process.
For the encore, “Drive” came rolling in like a wave of nostalgia. The song, which has been a cornerstone of Incubus’ repertoire, was performed with a sense of familiarity and ease. The audience visibly moved, and joined in a collective sing-along. It was an understated but soulful conclusion to a night filled with raw rock energy and the genuine camaraderie shared between Incubus and their fans.
All in all, Incubus at the Eventim Apollo wasn’t about grandiose claims or chasing legendary titles; it was a homage to the enduring power of albums that encapsulated an era, a dive into the pool of nostalgia, and a testament to the genuine connection between the band and their audience. The resounding takeaway: Morning View remains a treasure, and Incubus, well, they’re like that cherished mixtape from back in the day—timeless, and never failing to get the party going.
