Biffy Clyro’s Brit-rock resurrection

Brit-rock and music in general haven’t been doing great global business of late and it is not difficult to see why. When you look at the groups like AudioBullys, or Idlewild, they are not catering to the world, but a parochial, taste. Listen AudioSlave, for instance, to feel their aim is the heights and quality of Led Zeppelin proportions. Most of Brit-bands either want to be as good as Manic Street Preachers, or as sense-deep as Coldplay, or are going after the darn ‘Americana’.

Now, with this out of the way, Biffy Clyro don’t belong to the above groups but create music to make Britain proud. The Scottish alternative power trio have laid their second album in one day, which is like a page out of Asimov’s novel!? (Not even The White Stripes managed that with their ‘Elephant’ disc whilst, at the rumoured £5K budget, it probably is been ten times what BC’s must have cost!) Still, no – you can’t tell, it sound as produced as, let’s see, Linkin Park…

From the opening ‘Bodies in Flight’, with its jerky guitars and more-than-usually complex interplay add to the arrangement that spreads from emo-frame of mind to Nirvana-like rock out! ‘Diary Of Always’ and ‘Eradicate The Doubt’ explore similar dynamics, while ‘The Ideal Height’ finds them in calmer waters where simple melody is offset by drum patterns Stuart Copeland wouldn’t’ have minded in his Police-ing days! ‘A Day Of…’ paints the same mellow entry that goes through several mutations (blistering/screaming and upliftingly melodious) before fading out like Thin Lizzy disciples.

‘With Aplomb’ finds them in a complete emo-mood and watch out for a drop-dead luscious orchestral passage, with ‘Liberate The Illiterate/A Mong Among Mingers’ and ‘Now The Action Is On Fire’ displaying more of the wild, raw and louder end of their songwriting. The high-point of the disc is ‘Toys, Toys, Toys, Choke, Toys, Toys, Toys’, an ambitious cut that drops to the nu-metal depths and then elevates to a Yes-like romantic delicacy before works itself up to the rock-tastic finale! There is a bonus track, a straightforward mini emo-ditty.

Simon Neil, James & Ben Johnston’s debut album was largely unheard of by mass audience and, being signed to a label that neither believes in nor can afford industrial strength hype, Biffy Clyro have had to work hard for their modest-but-growing echelon of fans by playing great gigs and recording albums that dare to rock the music’s Titanic.

You know the plot: if Biffy Clyro originated in NYC, they’d be moshing all over Yeah Yeah Yeahs and be bigger than The Strokes and Interpol combined. But, with the artwork depicting a girl in a moment of self-blissing process, it’s gonna be an underground classic.

Let’s not let this become another ‘great lost’ album that a future generation might discover and question our take on quality, only to discover that we were sidetracked by the Evanescence’s sex-appeal.

8/10