There is no mistaking Biffy Clyro for anything other than arena rock gods with their caveman bare chests, imposing terraced stage, eye-watering lightshow and a jumbo rig built for all the pummelling power you could want.
Hydro, Glasgow ****
But there is also a softness and empathy in their aesthetic which serves to make them one of the most dynamic rock bands out there, contrasting ferocious flaying with soaring pop tunes, and the most piledriving noise with acoustic ballads to silence a room. They use but don’t abuse the trappings of their status, frontman Simon Neil and bassist James Johnson occasionally posing on podia, flanked by additional muscle on guitar and keyboards in the wings.
The booming Hydro acoustics occasionally did them a disservice. Up in the gods, their most unfettered moments translated as an indistinct din through which something resembling a vocal hookline would push, though there was no messing with the chunky riff on Wave Upon Wave Upon Wave.
The innocuously titled Bubbles, a pop song in convincing rock robes, satisfied the hunger for a full throttle singalong but, beyond the undulating throng in front of the stage, eagerly throwing themselves into moshpit etiquette, it felt as if the crowd were waiting for permission to party.
It took one of their ballads, Many Of Horror, to really bring the room to lusty life but there were other robust highlights such as the cathartic holler of Mountains and impish anthem The Captain which never fail to catch fire.