Biffy ClyroWith each release since their Blackened Sky debut over a decade ago, Biffy Clyro have gotten more bombastic and theatrical, transforming from an alternative band modulated on Nirvana thrash to some sort of modern day Queen, with pianos, strings, choral elements and even a mariachi band peppering their sixth record.
The trio have never been short on ambition, and on Opposites you get the best and worst elements of that vision. At one point it feels so overproduced that it's without a genuine soul; but then comes the most uplifting chorus line and you want to start beating your chest on a cliff's edge. In short: this album is an unapologetic attempt at epic. Lyrically, Simon Neil is more direct than ever before. His voice evokes a band that's a long way from their Scottish home fighting an uphill battle. The stories told channel the highs and lows of their journey, sung in the mindset of moving forward and staying positive but also relegating yourself to the past and admitting defeat. However, it's all done with the vicious determination of a dog tightly gripped on a bone.
Opener Different People is the perfect snapshot of the land this album lies on. It's at times grand, polished and overtly pompous. But it's also jagged, frantic and colourfully creative. That's one thing Biffy have always excelled at; their ability to offer light and shade, often within the space of a few bars (see: Black Chandelier). There's some wet balladeering here, sure, but then a big riff kicks in and it's fucking euphoric pandemonium. Opposites will divide fans, but if you give it time it will get you in the end.
