Recent
“live” favourites, anthemic, angular and acerbic Scots rockers Biffy Clyro
announced a “Fingers Crossed” tour last Summer for Spring 2021; “fingers
crossed”, because it seemed at that time that the dreaded Covid 19 restrictions
were starting to ease slightly, albeit in a phased manner, and that booking a
tour in smaller venues (as O2 Academies are, these days, for these by-now
seasoned Reading Festival headliners!) might get them out gigging earlier. Good
idea in principle, but a second wave of the pandemic put paid to the planned
Spring dates, necessitating a further bump back to Autumn! Still, at least
these dates could go ahead!
Go
ahead without Rachel, unfortunately; our youngest was sent home sick from
school, putting paid to the idea of Grandma babysitting, and Rach, not feeling
100% herself, decided to stay home to look after them. Shame, because
historically this lot have been a “Rachel band” rather than a “David band”; I
like them, no messin’, but the missus loves herself a bit of “The Biff”! An
enthusiastic replacement was however available in son Logan, who unfortunately
needed to do homework first (how diligent!), so we set off just before 7,
utterly tanking it down the M4 and easily into Trenchard car park before 20 to
8. A massive queue outside initially made me think doors had only just opened,
but reality hit me after circumventing said queue and getting in on the O2
Priority entrance… the place was already rammed! Crikey, where are they going
to put all these folk queueing up outside? Bob Vylan was already midway through
his support set; a bare-chested, dreadlock-waving street poet, he immediately
reminded me of a young Don Letts dropping truth bombs about race, equality and
the corrupt government, over a primitive Crass/ Titus Andronicus soundtrack
provided by a tape machine and his drummer sidekick. It was ace! Putting the
likes of Rage Against Your Mom to shame with quickfire political rants
delivered to this audience of “students who never left”, he was a confident man
on a mission, flippantly announcing, “on our next tour, Biffy Clyro are warming
up for us!”, but thanking the headliners, “for giving me the platform to
deliver my message”. Well, they may have done that, but you grabbed the
opportunity with both hands, young man; a great half-set, with closer “We Live
Here” (which reminded me of Benjamin Zephaniah’s 40-years older but still sadly
relevant “Fight Dem Not Me”) a dramatic highlight.
The
place got even fuller then, and our postage-stamp sized spot, a couple of rows
back, house left, in front of the speakers, seemed to shrink further as the
witching hour approached… chants of “Mon The Biff” welcomed the band onstage,
under the eerie shimmer of a UV light, opener “Dum Dum” building from a hushed
opening with regimental drumbeats, into the trademark huge Biffy hook. Recent
single “A Hunger In Your Haunt” followed, an rollicking old school Biff anthem,
and by the tremendous singalong of “Tiny Indoor Fireworks”, the boys were away,
rocking and riffing for all they’re worth… and then some!
This
is likely the smallest place I’d seen The Biff “live” to date – even vocalist
Simon Neil commented on its sideways configuration and overhanging balcony as,
“nice and compact!” but tonight they not only made me realise we’d missed a
trick by not latching on to them earlier and seeing them in venues this size on
their way up, but also demonstrated serious stadium credentials with some
massive hook-laden rock anthems, roof-raising singalongs and sheer,
ball-crushing guitar riffs. Shorn of the large venue stage-sets, paraphernalia
and in front of a single backdrop, this trio demonstrated they’re as good as
any rock band around today. Period. Visceral, thrilling and savage, yet
undeniably melodic and hook-laden, this was easily the best I’ve seen Biffy
Clyro, with new numbers from their current “Myth Of The Happy Ever After”
easily standing tall against anything else they’ve ever done. “Errors In The
History Of God” was stunning, with almost operatic choral “whoa-oh’s” and a
dramatic triple false ending; “Golden Rule” was a savage attack, with Neil
hunched over his guitar, sawing away furiously like a young David Line (a
massive compliment in my book), and after a titanic singalong “Mountains”, they
stripped it right back with a solo acoustic “Machines”, Neil both praising and
inviting the rabid crowd to sing along with, “we’ve missed you guys singing our
songs – that may be dropping a hint for this next one!”
A
bit of aggro in front of us was dealt with by the stewards, the offending perp
being swiftly taken out, allowing us to enjoy Logan’s set favourite, an immense
and roaring “Wolves Of Winter” fully. Another later slow interlude for
“Re-Arrange” prompted a girl squashed up behind me to reminisce, “this was my
wedding dance!” and the quiet/loud Pixies-ish dynamics of newie “Witches Cup”
led into a brilliant double-whammy set closing “Bubbles” and the epic,
skyscraping lament of “Many Of Horror”.
The
echoing, slow burn build of “Black Chandelier” and a stretched, haunting “Cop
Syrup” closed out a quite brilliant performance, the Biff giving their all,
dynamic and energetic as just about anybody I’ve seen of late. “This show was
worth the wait, wasn’t it?!” inquired Neil as the band took a deserved bow.
Hell yeah! Set-lists went early to the baying moshpit (fair enough really), so
we made our unexpectedly easy egress and home for 11.30 (hopefully not too late
for a 14 year old rocker on his first school night gig!), reflecting on this
excellent and enjoyable, if unexpected, “boys” night out. Everything about the
Biff tonight screamed “BIG!”, and I’m sure the next time we see them, it’ll be
headlining stadium gigs. Oh and by the way, after this gig, I think The Biff
might just be a “David band” now…!
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