Biffier than thou

There is a school of thought that says that emocore is fundamentally an updated version of collegiate rock circa 1991, while nu-metal is simply a rebranding of grunge from that same era. In which case, that school's pupils would have a field day with Biffy Clyro.

Three Scots who formed in 1997 - impressively, the precise mid-point between the existence of the aforementioned genres old and new - this long worked-on debut album is stuffed with the sort of careering, crashing modern rock music which should have the young hordes in their hoodies scampering towards the tills. A blissful balance of radio-hugging tunes such as '57' and 'Justboy' and groaning, angst-smeared indulgences such as 'Christopher River', on the surface this is a record which could only possibly exist today.

Yet beneath that sprawling, lurching, claustrophobic surface (not for nothing is this album called 'Blackened Sky') out pop curious anomalies which could only possibly be blamed on the band's mid-90's formation: there's the ghost of Buffalo Tom in 'Joy. Discovery. Invention'; the spirit of The Lemonheads' Evan Dando hangs lightly over parts of '27'; and true indie Yankophiles may care to hug themselves merrily at the news that 'Justboy' manages to rekindle memories of Lotion. By the frankly exhausting close (Biffy Clyro waste few of the 50-odd minutes at their disposal) we find the trio winding down and singing of how "You painted pictures with my tears" as 'Scary Mary' passes by like a fading taillight in the distance. This rocks, for sure, but in ways you may never have heard before.

Simon Williams

reviewed on 11 Mar 2002