Biffy Clyro – Futique

Alternative Rock | Indie Rock

80%

 

Many of the most important moments of our lives only become so with the benefit of hindsight. Nostalgia slowly blooming for a point in your life that you didn’t fully appreciate at the time. Not realising in the moment that you’re doing something for the final time. Futique is loosely built around this notion. It’s name being a portmanteau of future and antique. The idea that pieces of our lives will go on to have greater meaning and significance after the fact. 

I can’t say what significance this latest album from Scottish rockers Biffy Clyro will go on to have, I can only speak of what it has to offer in this moment. Futique is probably one of the band’s most streamlined and accessible releases, leaning more into pop adjacent territory than one might expect. Much of their musical eccentricity has been tempered and restrained (by Biffy standards anyway), and with the exception of the punk infused ‘Hunting Season’ and the snaking riffs and propulsive bass of ‘Friendshipping’, it’s also distinctly lacking in heavy moments. Instead, ‘Shot One’ toys with some 80s synths, ‘Dearest Amygdala’ has some funky disco-rock energy to it, while ‘A Thousand and One’ is home to melodies that would sound well at home on a Taylor Swift record. 

If this talk is setting off alarm bells, rest assured that Futique is a solid record. It doesn’t reach the highs or lows that their madcap tendencies tend to fluctuate between, instead settling on a happy medium. The choruses consistently deliver engaging hooks, and there are no embarrassing word salad lines that stand out for all the wrong reasons. In fact the lyricism here is among the band’s most meaningful and heartfelt, especially the stripped back slow-burner ‘Goodbye’, which tugs on all the same heartstrings as ‘Machines’ and ‘Folding Stars’ before it. The dark brooding vibe of ‘Woe Is Me, Wow Is You’ fits surprisingly well with the quirky titular refrain that dips in and out, while ‘Dearest Amygdala’ mispronouncing its title all the way through, until slotting the correct one in right at the end, feels like a classic Biffy move. 

Many moments in our lives, as well as pieces of music we experience, only become meaningful when looking back at them with fresh perspective. However, some moments we know for certain are special right away. You don’t need hindsight to tell you that a first date or that dream holiday are going to be a big deal, you can feel it, right then and there. Though Futique is mostly an assured yet safe affair, it does have its odd moments that immediately feel special. ‘A Little Love’ and ‘True Believer’ are both absolute bangers; they have ‘fan favourite’ written all over them. Both boast huge anthemic choruses, and energising drum work from Ben Johnson (who is on his A game throughout the record).

Yet the lads save their best for last with the phenomenal closing track ‘Two People In Love’. In has all the elements you’ve come to expect from the album’s other highlights – infectious hooks, superb drums etc – yet despite Futique generally playing things pretty safe and accessible, this track feels like one of the band’s proggiest outings in a hot minute. The way the gorgeous piano melodies intertwine with the rhythm, the celestial soundscape that backs the chorus and lifts you up to new heights, and the extended outro that feels like the ending of ‘Bubbles’ has been dialled up a notch or two. 

Will these few flashes of brilliance be enough for me to look back at Futique with fondness and nostalgia a few years down the line? Hard to say. 2025 has felt like a year wherein most albums I’ve been looking forward to have either missed the mark or failed to materialise entirely. In that environment, an album such as this – solid, dependable, enjoyable from start to finish – feels like a triumph. Futique‘s philosophy is that we never know when we might be doing something for the last time. I don’t know when I’ll listen to this record for the final time, but I feel confident in saying it’ll get a fair few more spins out of me yet.