Living is a Problem Because Everything Dies
Some things in life are truly unexplainable. The very meaning of existence troubles some, and has done since the beginning of time. Others are concerned with more prosaic matters, like why do you never see white dog poos anymore? But the conundrum that keeps this hack awake at night is this: just what is Biffy Clyro's appeal?
The Scottish three-piece have obtained a rabid following over the years, so much so that I will be entering Witness Protection as soon as this review is finished, but it seems completely unjustified when you're presented with the kind of bleary grunge they've been peddling for the best part of a decade.
At least Living. sees them change tack slightly, a chugging guitar with violent orchestral stabs is a grand idea, but becomes grating after what seems like the fifth hour of it. However, it soon degenerates into the same identikit grunge they're known for, with overwrought vocals to boot. By the end of this epic dirge, you get the feeling that they aimed for Bohemian Rhapsody, but ended up with the Grease Megamix.