It is a sad fact of recent developments in my music tastes that I rarely seem to listen to guitar bands any more. Former favourites have been cast aside, forgotten about, left to gather dust in the nether regions of my electronic collection. Barely any have survived. They just don’t seem to sound like they used to. The Beatles, Radiohead and The Maccabees alone hold the fort. And Incubus. For some reason the angsty Californians won’t let me go. I’m humming Drive in the shower; I’m whistling Love Hurts on the bus. Still listening to music I loved when was fourteen, walking angrily to school with a rucksack on my back and the weight of the world on my mind, makes my love of Incubus a guilty pleasure, severely undermining my perceived super-cool-music-taste exterior.
But this is all about to change. They’re coming to Manchester. I’m going to see them. I’m going to go wild. I’m going to proclaim my love to the world, via the medium of the Mancunion Music Section. Unless they’re rubbish. Watch this space.
