Last Week Live - Incubus

A general rule of thumb regarding rock concerts is: the bigger the band, the more elaborate and entertaining the live show.

Sometimes, though, the band falls short of this expectation and instead focuses on its music rather than the live show.

Incubus opted for the latter last week at Merriwether Post Pavilion, delivering a spot-on, sonically perfect set, but was found to be lackluster in terms of stage presence.

Let it be understood that it was not a bad show by any means; Brandon Boyd and Co. have been around for two decades now and have released seven albums, nearly all achieving critical acclaim and mainstream-acceptance.

What child of our generation doesn't instantly recognize, with nostalgia, the opening chords of "Drive?"

The band has paid its dues in terms of touring and gaining a devoted audience base, and now it can just sit back on stage and let the public do the rocking while the band does what it does best: play music.

Merriwether's capacity is nearly 20,000, and every inch of storm-sodden ground was covered Sunday evening.

Whether you were getting the breath squeezed out of you in the pit, sitting leisurely in the pavilion seats or getting periodically drenched out on the field, you felt part of something bigger than yourself, a feeling that stemmed from the all-fields-emcompassing diversity of Incubus's fanbase.

Since 1991, the five-piece's style has changed distinctly between albums, from the funk-heavy release S.C.I.E.N.C.E. to 1999's chart-topping Make Yourself to their latest, more musically-complex, yet pop-oriented If Not Now, When?.

The changes in style reflect the variety of the show-goers, who range from old hippie moms and dads, to Abercrombie-donning college kids, to Day-Glo painted hoopers.

And all of the above stuck through the torrential downpour that waned and fluxed throughout the night.

Calif. alternative band Young The Giant opened, putting on an energetic set that showcased their versatility between songs such as "Cough Syrup" and "12 Fingers."

While they were clearly enthusiastic and excited to be opening for such a big name, they were lucky that their set missed the rain by half an hour; even their big single "My Body" would not have been enough to keep impatient listeners patient through a storm.

Incubus, however, excited the crowd from the moment the lights dimmed.

As lead singer Boyd's lithe frame came into focus, the noise level raised several decibels and even more so as the opening notes of "Megalomaniac" rang out.

Boyd's vocals are as clear and distinct live as they are on recordings, and after 20 years of playing together, the band is tighter and more in sync than ever.

On the big screen, the synchronization between each player is palpable; from guitarist Mike Einziger and turntablist/keyboardist Chris Kilmore's aptly placed licks and scratches to bassist Ben Kenney and drummer Jose Palsilla's completely fused rhythm sections, and Boyd leading it all with his near-spiritual belt and sensual croon.

About a quarter of the set was devoted to new songs, but the best of Incubus's back catalog was featured.

"Wish You Were Here" was dedicated to the fallen victims and rescuers of 9/11, and most notably "Drive" and "Nice To Know You" were played.

For the old-school fans, "A Certain Shade of Green" satisfied their yearnings for the funk days, while "Anna Molly" and a Doors-sampling remix of "Dig" covered their 2007 release Light Grenades.

Some key songs were omitted; it would have been great to hear more off of Morning View, especially "Just a Phase" or "Warning;" in fact, it was surprising that they chose to end their encore with "Tomorrow's Food," the closer from If Not Now, When?, rather than "Warning," which with its mainstream success and inspiring chorus make it an obvious choice.

However, it was great to hear songs such as "The Warmth" and "Are You In," sounding exactly like the CDs we listen to with a love bordering on obsession.

Incubus have already proved themselves to be one of the defining alternative bands of our generation.

They don't need gimmicks to keep their fan base anymore, and so it's forgivable that they spend their time delivering 21 flawless songs rather than making jokes with the audience. In fact, hardcore music fans probably prefer it.

To a casual listener, their show may not be worth the 50 dollar ticket, but, to a devoted fan or music aficionado, they are above and beyond many of their peers when it comes to pure talent and quality sound.

And if it's all about the music, isn't that what matters most?