Soaraway success: Simon Neil at T in the Park Pic: © Drew Farrell
I know that the weather's improved, but does that mean that Simon Neil and the brothers Johnston have to take to Sunday's T in the Park Main Stage sans tops? Please guys! At least recently added second guitarist Mike Vennart has some sense of decorum.
Lack of clothing aside, Biffy Clyro start off with the distorted lurch and thrust of That Golden Rule, going on to excel before what's likely to be their biggest home country audience ever with a set of their highly distinctive, mathematically precise mastery of complex stop-start and quiet-loud dynamics.
Some people used to call it 'post-hardcore', more clueless souls may fumble towards the irritating 'emo' catch-all, but on this size of stage such restrictive genre descriptors are cast aside - all that needs to be known is that the Biffy know how to rock, and today's attendees as a whole know how to rock out. It's a good combination.
More recent singles such as Bubbles may be relatively more accessible and able to get most of the females around me yelling along, but the band always had the sort of soaraway melodies that seemed set for larger stages than the ones they started out on, so to see the Ayrshire boys playing before the globulous mass gathered before the Main Stage isn't as surprising as you might assume.
PHOTO GALLERY
What's more impressive is how they've gone about it, slowly building their fanbase through the power of their incendiary live performances and consistently strong record releases, rather than through any cynically calculated musical direction and label-backed PR campaign. By my estimation Biffy have played T in the Park 436 times, a constant feature of the festival, and to see them over the years has been to gratifyingly track their progress into an arena-conquering goliath of a group. Justboy is a glorious reminder of the earlier days.
Their dependably emotive biggest chart hit Mountains provides an opportune moment to thrust a hand or two in the air, and things march along on a similarly epic vain until a sweeping Many of Horror provides a fine moment to again sing along, and The Captain finishes their set in style - though not before the new recruit Vennart is shamed into also removing his shirt. Ah well, they deserve their moment in the limelight, pigeon chests and all. (Only joking, the boys do of course have supremely sculptured Scottish physiques, a twilight career as male models surely beckons...)
