"TRAITORS" I can almost hear the cries already. Halfway through 'S.C.I.E.N.C.E.', there is what you might call a litmus test, something that could well place a dividing line between the purists and the rest of us. There's a track called 'Magic Medicine'. It's great. It grooves like fuck. It's drum'n'bass. So what, exactly, is your problem?

What's suprising about 'Magic Medicine' isn't that it's an aberration, but that it fits in so well. It's just one more arm to Incubus' already masterful rhythm section, so sure of itself that it can take on virtually any style and still sound uncompromised. 'S.C.I.E.N.C.E.' encompasses the gorgeous, Latin-tinged cruise of 'Anti-Gravity Love Song', the AOR neo-jazz work-out of 'Deep Inside' (not a high point, this), and exhilaratingly compressed metal riffs, all underpinned by a workaholic funk groove, a typical example of West Coast eclecticism.

What isn't so typical is the intensity. Incubus have discovered a sense of paranoia that brings to mind Faith No More, a misdirected, self-throttling rage, an urge to push themselves to the brink. For the most part, 'S.C.I.E.N.C.E.' sounds like funk metal infected by anxiety and foreboding, a fear of something it can't quite comprehend. If the likes of Red Hot Chili Peppers were always kept grounded by their more restful moments were mere illusions, and suddenly plunging into an agitated rush. Incubus keeps themselves on their toes alright, but only because you get the feeling that something's snapping at their heels. 'Nebula' is a schizoid patchwork of panic, as heaving riffs metamorphosised first into a desperate sprint and then into awed pauses, like singer Brandon's just undergone some terrible revelation.

So if you find parts of 'S.C.I.E.N.C.E.' not to your liking...tough shit. Versatility is rooted deep in Incubus' nature. What makes this album so great is that it sounds like a necessity. (8)