Playlist: The Very Best Of Incubus – A Wild Ride Through Rock’s Many Faces
Let’s cut to the chase. If you’re even remotely into rock music, Playlist: The Very Best Of Incubus is one of those albums that feels like a greatest hits playlist your cool older sibling made for you in high school. Released in 2013, this compilation spans the band’s career up to that point—pulling from their genre-bending catalog of alternative rock, rap-metal, funk metal, and everything else they decided to throw into the blender. And yeah, it’s messy sometimes, but isn’t that what makes it fun?
First off, let’s talk about “Drive.” This track? It’s basically required listening if you’ve ever had an existential crisis while stuck in traffic (so… everyone?). There’s something hypnotic about Brandon Boyd’s vocals here—it’s not overly polished or perfect, which is why it sticks with you. You can almost picture yourself driving down some lonely highway at night, windows down, wondering where life is taking you. Or maybe that’s just me. Either way, the song has this weirdly comforting vibe, like a friend telling you it’s okay to feel lost.
Then there’s “Megalomaniac,” because how could I not mention it? This one hits different. With its chunky guitar riffs and swagger-filled delivery, it’s impossible not to crank the volume when it comes on. What gets me every time is how sharp the lyrics are; lines like “You’re no more than a corporate clown” hit harder today than ever. It’s got this biting sarcasm mixed with raw energy that makes you want to punch the air or maybe stage-dive into your couch cushions. Honestly, it’s hard to pick between dancing around your room like an idiot or just sitting back and marveling at how well-crafted it is.
Now, don’t get me wrong—this album isn’t reinventing the wheel. Some tracks feel repetitive (cough double listings of songs cough), and sure, it leans heavily on nostalgia for longtime fans. But hey, that’s kind of the point, right? Compilations like this are supposed to remind you why you fell in love with a band in the first place. For newcomers, it’s a solid crash course in Incubus’ wild ride through genres and styles.
One thing worth noting is the packaging itself. Art direction by Rob Carter gives the whole thing a sleek yet gritty aesthetic, fitting for a band that’s always been unapologetically themselves. Plus, mastering by Vic Anesini ensures the sound is as crisp as possible—even though these tunes were recorded over decades.
So, would I recommend this album? Absolutely. Whether you’re revisiting old favorites or discovering Incubus for the first time, Playlist: The Very Best Of Incubus delivers exactly what it promises: a mixtape-worthy collection of bangers and deep cuts. Just don’t ask me to choose a favorite song—I’d rather try to solve a Rubik’s Cube blindfolded.
Oh, and here’s a random thought: Did anyone else notice how many times “Talk Shows On Mute” shows up? Twice. Like, we get it, guys—it’s a good song. No need to rub it in our faces.
