Here’s something I still can’t quite wrap my head around: Biffy Clyro can sell out the O2 Arena on a Wednesday, yet back in the States, they’re playing venues a fraction of this size. After moving to the UK, I discovered this band through a work colleague, and it felt like stumbling onto something massive that everyone else already knew about. How does a band this good have such a different level of success across the pond? Makes no sense.
This show hammered home why they own this country right now. A 23-song set, and classics/fan favourites like “Howl” and “Rearrange” didn’t even make the cut. That’s the best problem a band can have: too many bangers, not enough setlist space.
The real focus was last year’s Futique, gorgeous, relentless, packed with hooks that refuse to quit. “Hunting Season” might be the peak, but honestly, in a world where albums feel disposable or even unnecessary, Simon and company clearly didn’t get the memo and dropped their heart and soul into this one.
What destroyed me, though? Hearing A Celebration of Endings tracks live. “Instant History,” “Space,” “Tiny Indoor Fireworks.” These songs were my lifeline during Covid lockdown. That album got me through the weirdness, and experiencing them in a packed arena felt like crawling out of a cave into sunlight. It really doesn’t get any better for a live show.
The production was ridiculous in the best way: confetti cannons, streamers, and smoke everywhere. They added violins and an extra guitarist, turning an already powerful sound into something untouchable. Not that they needed it, but it made everything feel even bigger. The music was tight, and the delivery was absolutely bang on. The bells and whistles made it a proper arena spectacle, dialled up to the max. It’s a full-on rock-and-roll arena extravaganza that never slows down. By the end of the gig, the fans are worn out, and so were Simon and the band, because they leave everything on the table.
If anyone thinks rock and roll is dying, they need to see a Biffy show. You’ll figure out very quickly that it’s alive and well, and no one does it like this.
Quick note: bassist James Johnston stepped away from this tour for mental health, a totally fair move. Naomi Macleod from Empire State Bastard is filling in and doing solid work.
Finsbury Park this summer is next. Based on this magical night in London, it’s going to be massive as I imagine they will figure out a way to dial it up even further.
