You could be forgiven for thinking that Biffy Clyro’s success just goes to show that having a name made for ‘gap yah’ jokes (Oh you know my cousin Biffy, yah, Biffy Clyro, he’s in Bali teaching monkeys how to water ski) is no impediment to main stream success. The band are phenomenally popular, managing to slip their brand of throbbing guitar music into the charts past the bland R’n’B that normally dominates it. Opposites is yet another stellar work, and this time they’ve gone all interesting and done a double album.

There’s something especially delicious about the opportunity for creative freedom that comes with a double album. Opposites feels like the band has held nothing back; there’s fantastic variation in orchestration both track to track and half to half. It all hangs together incredibly well, each half of the album casting new light on the nuances of his twin.

Enough of the blurb! What of the music? The first album opens with ‘Different People’, which sees an organ building into a stadium worthy guitar riff. It’s a great track, balancing the surprisingly lovely lyricism of “I am going home forever and ever more” with strong guitars without either feeling out of place. ‘Black Chandelier’ doesn’t quite manage this same symmetry. The whole thing feels a little bit early-noughties, with its overly earnest lyrics and enjoyable but rather obtuse guitar. It falls a little flat. 

Luckily we’re not left in despair for too long, as the next track ‘Sounds Like Balloons’ is an absolute belter. A delicate piece of piano work in the pre-chorus is soon swept along in the wake of a strong chorus, which sounds vaguely like a mantra young Biffy picked up on his gap year, but in a good way. I’ll be the first to sing it ad-infinitum.

The second half begins with ‘Stingin’ Belle’, which is a bit meh right up until 2:20. But what’s this I hear? Building military drums? And then they hit you with BAGPIPES and you start to believe that this may be the greatest album ever released. They’re using bagpipes, people. It’s incredible.

‘Spanish Radio’ sounds like Nathaniel Rateliff shouting over the top of a Sufjan Stevens record. The mariachi band is a superb twist and whilst it definitely shouldn’t work with heavy, Biffy-style guitars, it really does. I only hope it marks a new epoch of international and musical collaboration between Mexico and Scotland, I really do. This track is a great example of the melding of delicate lyrics with Simon Neil’s big, heavy, voice that characterises the album.

There are quite a few tracks on that could reasonably be described as filler, as standard rock music which is good but isn’t exactly going to set the room alight. However, it’s when they use the base that they do so well (big vocals, strong guitars) and combine it with the new and unexpected that the moments of brilliance on this album come.