Biffy Clyro
Vertigo of Bliss

[the overview] Their angular, lottery ball-bumbling popcore is special. So special that it seeps from the heart and strides from the speakers like a swimsuit model; glistening, all hair flicking and perfect smiles. Elements of this on their debut ‘Blackened Sky’ existed, but a lot of the magic was lost under Chris Sheldon’s hazy production. Once again though, Sheldon’s at the desk. Fear not..

[the propaganda] This is an adventure into tidying up chaos. A hurricane hoovering up the crazy senseless world devoid of reason or reality. A tornado in a land where serpents chase regret, and ghosts put the boot in; where we’re dressed by monsters, fed useless needs by fat cats, and demons rummage noisily at 3am. There’s no real refuge to disappear into. No nothing. Only commercials, brands and excuses.

And then there is Simon Neil, sitting in the corner next to your stereo, translating Generation X. Rhyming, sighing, and fronting a three-piece screaming barbershop triplet (completed by the Johnston brothers), who rocket so far outta their souls they can barely balance.

[the guts]** You’ll have been teased by the chugga-chugga dih-dih doo-doo-doo-ooh post-freestylejazzrock-pop of ’The Ideal Height’, and transfixed by the half-Foos, half-Kyuss-pop of ’Toys, Toys, Toys, Choke, Toys, Toys, Toys’. That’s without mentioning the rampaging chainsaw-in-a-library, Kevin Smith soundtrackish, crowd bobbing ‘Questions and Answers’ which will leave you eternally out of breath. But what of the ten other tracks not previously singles? Well, in typical Biffy style, it’s a strangled mess of confusing angular car crash melodies with bones poking seemingly randomly from the bassy hum and the skin of the drums. Soft bits give way to barbaric screaming. And then back to sweet and innocent again. Schizo-Emo? Here's some bits about the choice tracks...