There’s nothing to be jealous of because celebrity art will always be cursed. We shouldn’t begrudge them their privilege as long as they return the favor by recognizing their advantage. And they have the money to not only support their hobby, but also market it. They didn’t pay their dues because their artwork, much like a Kardashian, was born in celebrity-dom and thus has immediate value. There’s a sense that the celebrity musician-artist “cheated” to get where they are. And that’s a crucial ingredient in the musician-cum-artist trajectory, that includes two significant advantages that the average artist does not enjoy: 1. Brandon’s art isn’t bad, there are some interesting pieces in his collection, but without the Incubus connection-which I don’t have-it’s unremarkable.

And that’s perhaps why I don’t really take any interest in Brandon Boyd’s artwork: I’m not a fan of Incubus. On paper, that looks like something I’d be attracted to-a musical portmanteau-but, for whatever reason, I don’t enjoy either band’s execution. They can’t seem to settle on whether it’s funky metal, hip-hop, impassioned emo, or just a whole bunch o’ cuttin’ n scratchin’.

But both bands write songs that sound like three or four different songs played at the same time. I get east and west mixed up all the time, too. I refer to them as “that band that I get mixed up with Linkin Park” (vice versa with Linkin Park, who I get mixed up with Incubus). They’ll live forever.) I’m not a fan of Incubus.

Then read more about the band KISS in our extensive archive, because death is inevitable.

(And if you like it, check out our inaugural edition, on Paul Stanley of KISS, here. (Like Artforum, for dummies.) In our second installment, we take a look at the art of Brandon Boyd, the singer of Incubus. Welcome to Fartwork, a new CREEM column where we explore the visual artwork of musicians.

Incubus band art