Futique

After the lockdown-encouraged bout of productivity that spawned two albums in 14 months—2020’s A Celebration of Endings and The Myth of the Happily Ever After (2021)—Biffy Clyro slipped into a period of inactivity and uncertainty. Wearied by the joyless experiences of COVID, the trio ended their 2022 tour with the decision to take some time out to rest and reflect on what should be next for Biffy—if anything. Singer/guitarist Simon Neil indulged in some creative throat-clearing, hawking up the abrasive, pummelling metal of 2023’s Rivers of Heresy, the debut album by his rock supergroup Empire State Bastard. As much as he enjoyed making and touring that record though, he found himself missing melody and the consuming hooks that had elevated the Kilmarnock trio—completed by brothers Ben (drums) and James Johnston (bass)—into one of Britain’s biggest rock bands across their nine albums. Neil began to write new Biffy songs at the piano, the first full one to emerge being the tender “Goodbye”, which sits at the midpoint of this album. A song about needing to distance yourself from loved ones to remind yourself why you love them, it reveals how the three of them were able to escape their own individual doubts about the band to make one of their strongest records to date. Neil has pitched the album as one that contemplates relationships and thoughts that endure through our lives, and allusions to the brotherhood of Biffy regularly emerge. If the title of “Woe Is Me, Wow Is You” speaks to that rare kind of band who have managed to ascend to rock stardom without ever taking themselves too seriously, then its content is all about the trio’s teak-tough bond. It was written by Neil as an account of their time together, and the vulnerability of the verses evaporates as the chorus erupts with “We believe in the concept/We defy the impossible…This ship is built to last.” Biffy aren’t just doing this for their love of each other though. They’ve often interrogated the purpose of an album before making one—lest they ever start churning out records just because that’s what they’re supposed to do. So while they prove characteristically adept at transitioning from fierce riffs and jittery time signatures to choruses that sound like sun blistering through rain clouds (“A Little Love”, “Two People in Love”), they continue to test the boundaries of festival-headlining rock. “It’s Chemical!” is what happens when Biffy bend big beat, baggy and Britpop to their will and “Dearest Amygdala” nods so strongly to glossy ’80s pop, it demands to be played on a keytar with your suit sleeves rolled up.