When writing a review of a gig it’s always important to include important relevant information such as mood, crowd reaction, set list, ratio of new material to favoured crowd-pleasers and so on. So I shall do so.
Band: Incubus. Venue: O2 Apollo. Mood: tepid. Crowd reaction: minimal. Set list: Privilege, Pardon Me, Adolescence, Promises Promises, some more songs, Warning (Acoustic), Nice To Know You, Megalomaniac and more. Ratio of new material to favoured crowd-pleasers: as was to be expected.
But what was really the focal point of the entire event, and therefore what I should as a responsible reviewer dedicate the majority of this piece to, was Brandon Boyd’s vest. Such a vest, white and tattered, six sizes too big for him, displaying a disconcerting amount of skinny indie-boy flank, it swung perilously from his contorted frame as he squirmed through a seemingly never-ending array of on-stage histrionics. No one seemed more perturbed by this terrifying vest than guitarist, Harvard undergraduate and professional ‘fro-smith Mike Einziger, whose faultless axe wielding struggled to make up for a woeful lack of stage presence. Boyd’s vocals, and the tightness of the general performance, were nonetheless impeccable – no mean feat considering that this was their sixth date in a week, their second night in a row in Manchester and that the crowd were supplying them with about as much energy as is used by a super-long-life mini-maglite.
So while the general outcome was disappointing, there were some highlights. The projections on the backdrop were so poor as to be amusing, the beer was nice and the toilets were clean. The bouncers were also very accommodating. It was just a shame that all these plus-points were nullified by some sweaty shirtless fucktard who repeatedly stood on my toes. Hence the poor rating.