When it comes to Biffy Clyro ‘round these parts, it’s not so much a case of ‘local boys done good’ as much as ‘local boys created a new and officially recognized religion’. While most of us were to busy poring over the not-so-subtle nuances of garage, post-punk, the new [a]Strokes[/a] album and er… the devastating break-up of [a]Zwan[/a], these sneaky fuckers clocked that we weren’t looking and became really good on the sly. The arenas and aircraft hangers of the nation beckon for Biffy in the near-future, but for one night only they return to the intimate environment of the 200-capacity Barfly as a special treat for the locals.
Throughout the show, singer Simon Neil is repeatedly drowned out by the front rows who sound like they’re reciting prayers to some kind of [a]Nirvana[/a]-aware demigod, especially during ‘Justboy’ and the spasmodic screamo of ‘Bodies In Flight’. Despite the fact that they haven’t got anything even approaching a decent haircut between the three of them and they retain the cumulative good looks of [a]The Darkness[/a] after an all-night Jack’n’crack binge, as Biffy tear through ‘Eradicate The Doubt’ with limbs and guitars flailing all possible directions, there’s not a soul in the room that can bear to take their eyes off them. As they begin to wind down their set with ‘Questions And Answers’, NME is delighted to see MTV/R1’s Olympic Shouting contender Zane Lowe barging into the moshpit, pogoing like a fourteen year-old who had one too many swigs of White Lightning down the park before the gig. Excellent behaviour.
It won’t be long before “‘Mon the Biffy” becomes part of the national phraseology. You really should start practicing it now.