“You can tell by the lines in my smile that I’ve been around for a while”, croons Incubus frontman Brandon Boyd on A Crow Left Of The Murder. He’s not lying either. Despite the fact that most of the band are still a few years off 30, this is their sixth studio album since their 1991 inception, and, incidentally, their most bitter to date.
Having vastly increased their fan base thanks to 1998’s breakthrough single ‘Drive’ and the accompanying Make Yourself, the band followed up with 2001’s Morning View – a record that, while radio friendly, did not do the business in propelling them into rock’s premier league. Feeling disillusioned, pissed off, and undoubtedly a little sorry for themselves, the band took some time off to re-group. Boyd himself went all literary with a sappily titled book White Fluffy Clouds, before traipsing back to the studio to let out some aggression.
The ensuing release sees the band in cynical, angry mode, ditching the ‘Woooooohoooo” choruses, turning the amps up to 11 and having a good old musical bitching session (see ‘Sick Sad Little World’, ‘Talk Shows On Mute’ and the recent single ‘Megalomaniac’). However, the band seem more intent on vindictively setting scores than concentrating on songcraft, and overall this collection lacks the melody and musicality that set them apart in the first place. On A Crow Left…, Incubus are attempting to claw their way back to their musical roots, but they don’t sound quite so convincing the second time round.