London is already baking in the opening days of the country’s latest heatwave as 45,000 fans descend upon Finsbury Park for one of the biggest rock bills of the summer. Under cloudless blue skies, Wavves, Marmozets, Don Broco and Nothing But Thieves steadily raise the temperature before Biffy Clyro deliver the kind of career-spanning headline performance that reminds everyone exactly why they remain one of Britain’s greatest live bands.
California’s Wavves ease everyone into the afternoon with a laid-back blast of fuzzed-out garage rock. “Good morning,” Nathan Williams smiles as he strolls onstage. “Thank you for coming, we’re Wavves.” There is little hanging about as they crash into Way Too Much, Stephen Pope’s hair flying wildly before Williams introduces Idiot with the wonderfully blunt declaration: “Thank you, this song is called ‘Fuck Donald Trump’.” Their carefree attitude continues through King Of The Beach before Williams catches sight of the giant video screens either side of the stage and laughs, “Dude, we’re huge!” It’s loose, loud and exactly what’s required to kick-start a festival day.
Marmozets inject an altogether more ferocious energy. Standing atop his drum stool, Josh Macintyre bellows, “What fuck’s happenin’ Finsbury Park?… So we’re here to warm you up, so let’s fuckin’ go. Mon the Biff yeah?” before Jack Bottomley’s shimmering guitar ushers sister Becca onto the stage for the blistering A Kiss From A Mother.
Technical problems immediately threaten to derail proceedings as Josh repeatedly battles failing in-ear monitors and a missing click track, but the Yorkshire quartet refuse to let it affect their performance. “It’s a show, it must go on,” Becca Bottomley grins after acknowledging the issues. New material, including Mes Désirs, showcases the band’s long-awaited third album while Move Shake Hide reminds everyone how formidable Marmozets remain live. “We can’t thank Biffy Clyro enough for letting us play for you guys here at Finsbury Park,” Becca says warmly, while Josh jokingly pleads with his monitor engineer, “Shane, can you turn my drums all the way down, ‘cos my ears are bleeding… I love you Shane!”
Don Broco waste absolutely no time turning the atmosphere up another notch. Wearing sunglasses to fend off the blazing afternoon sun, Rob Damiani bounds onstage as Cellophane instantly sends bodies bouncing throughout the park. Alongside guitarist Simon Delaney and bassist Tom Doyle, the frontman barely keeps still, launching himself from stage risers throughout an energetic opening.
“Finsbury Park! Holy shit!” he roars. “We are a band called Don Broco and we want to set these pits off as we mean to go on for the rest of the day.” Moments later he is demanding circle pits and a wall of death while reminding everyone: “Anyone falls down, you pick them straight back up.”
The new Nightmare Tripping material lands just as strongly as the established favourites, with the title track and Disappear proving early highlights. Damiani also wears his admiration for the evening’s headliners proudly. “We are massive Biffy Clyro fans… They are pretty much the reason we started a band to be honest and after only a mere 20 years we’ve managed to blag a show with Biffy Clyro!” he laughs, before introducing more new music from the band’s latest record.
If Don Broco ignite the afternoon, Nothing But Thieves elevate it entirely. Opening with the towering Amsterdam, Conor Mason immediately invites the crowd to sing the opening refrain before Is Everybody Going Crazy? arrives with his soaring falsetto effortlessly gliding above Dominic Craik and Joe Langridge-Brown’s crushing guitars.
“Finsbury Park how the fuck are you doing today? We are Nothing But Thieves,” Mason beams. “Are you ready for today? Are you ready for Biffy?!” The answer comes back in deafening fashion. The Essex quintet simply don’t let up. Itch is greeted by a sizeable contingent of devoted fans before Tomorrow Is Closed keeps the energy surging. Looking across the packed hillside, Mason pauses for a moment. “You are fucking beautiful, there are a lot of you, there is a lot of people,” he says. “We are so, so excited to be here. Thank you Biffy Clyro for having us! Mon the fuckin’ Biff! We’ve got a lot of songs to get through.”
That journey moves effortlessly between delicate vulnerability and outright aggression. Particles allows Mason’s remarkable voice to soar before he asks one simple question: “Who wants a fucking rock song?” Seconds later, I’m Not Made By Design detonates across the park, its colossal riffs drawing one of the biggest reactions of the afternoon.
If I Get High and Sorry become communal singalongs, Mason frequently stepping back from the microphone to let thousands of voices take over. Between songs he deadpans, “You know what it is, I just need a FIFA hydration break,” earning immediate boos from the audience before laughing along himself.
His affection for Biffy Clyro is clearly genuine. “We’re so appreciative of Biffy Clyro,” he says. “We’ve known those guys for years now,” recalling how Simon Neil once heard an early Nothing But Thieves song and “gave us the spirit” by telling them how much he loved it. It is an anecdote that perfectly illustrates the mutual respect shared between the two bands.
Overcome provides one of the set’s emotional peaks before Nothing But Thieves confidently unveil the live debut of forthcoming album title track Stray Dogs. Rather than feeling unfamiliar, it slots seamlessly into the set, sitting comfortably alongside the sinister synth pulse of Oh No :: He Said What? “I’m having such a fucking good time,” Mason grins. “Thank you for being here to watch us before Biffy.”
Then comes another announcement that receives an enormous cheer. “We haven’t really played any shows this big in quite a while, we’ve been squirrelling away writing a new record… It comes out September 25th!” Latest single Evolution already sounds destined to become another fan favourite before Welcome To The DCC and the haunting Impossible close a genuinely outstanding performance. Support slots rarely feel this complete.
As dusk begins to settle over North London, the haunting sounds of Erghen Diado (Song of Schopsko) drift across the park before Biffy Clyro emerge to deafening applause. Frontman Simon Neil appears topless, sporting a blue denim kilt that has become something of a trademark in recent years, immediately cutting a commanding figure as he strides to centre stage. With James Johnston continuing to sit out touring duties, Naomi Macleod once again steps seamlessly into the live line-up alongside Neil, Ben Johnston, Mike Vennart and Richard “Gambler” Ingram. Two string players complete the expanded touring ensemble, adding an orchestral richness that elevates much of tonight’s set without ever overwhelming the band’s trademark power.
“Hey Finsbury Park!” Neil shouts before The Captain immediately sends the hillside into full voice. There is barely time to breathe before That Golden Rule crashes in, thousands screaming every word. “Come on London, let’s every single fuckin’ one of you get your hands in the air.” Every one of the 45,000 happily obliges. “Ah that looks good.”
The first unforgettable spectacle arrives during Who’s Got A Match? “Who needs a match when you’ve got a fuckin’ flamethrower!” Neil laughs before casually lifting an actual flamethrower from the side of the stage and firing huge jets of flame high above his head. “Safe this fuckin’ isn’t,” he jokes. “We’re gonna play some old stuff, some new stuff and I’m gonna hold this flamethrower for the rest of the night.” Only Simon Neil could make wielding a flamethrower feel completely natural.
Biffy’s carefully constructed set effortlessly moves between every chapter of their career. Justboy delights the old guard before the soaring Biblical demonstrates just how much tonight’s string arrangements add to the band’s already expansive sound. “That was fuckin’ stunnin’ London, thank you.” Neil pauses to take in the vast crowd stretching up the famous Finsbury Park hill. “Thanks for being here for the Biffy show, this is a stunning view.” The audience gladly repays him during God & Satan, taking over the vocal almost entirely.
Recent material proves equally powerful. Red flares explode above the stage as A Little Love brings Futique into the spotlight before the welcome return of Booooom, Blast & Ruin — played live for the first time since 2017 — reminds everyone just how criminally absent it has been. Ben Johnston is magnificent throughout, his explosive drumming underpinning every twist and turn while the additional strings lend Instant History and Cop Syrup an altogether more cinematic scale.
The production reaches another level during Living Is A Problem Because Everything Dies, with piercing white beams firing into the crowd in perfect sync with every rhythmic accent, while Space transforms the packed field into one giant sea of swaying arms. “You guys are angels, thank you,” Neil smiles afterwards.
The closing stretch is masterfully paced. Different People steadily builds into a towering crescendo before A Hunger In Your Haunt lands with immense force. Neil then wanders to a secondary microphone at stage right, asking “How are you guys doing over here?” before delivering an intimate Goodbye to fans away from the centre of the field.
One of the evening’s most magical moments follows as the band gather shoulder-to-shoulder beneath spotlights for an unaccompanied performance of There’s No Such Man As Crasp. It is hauntingly beautiful before There’s No Such Thing As A Jaggy Snake instantly raises the pulse once more. “Thank you Finsbury, we’ve got some old-skoolers in the house then, love it.”
Neil then becomes visibly emotional. “We’ve been in a band for a long long time, really we don’t take it for granted. Thank you so much for sticking with us, thank you for being here tonight.” The deafening response to Black Chandelier and Mountains proves that appreciation runs both ways.
Returning alone with an acoustic guitar, Neil asks, “You guys still got a few more song in ya?” before delivering a deeply moving Machines, gradually joined by the rest of the band and actor-musician Jamie Campbell Bower, whose guest vocals add another emotional layer to an already poignant performance. The encore quickly shifts gears as Wolves Of Winter roars into life before Neil grins, “Fuck yeah, let’s do some Bubbles,” the group tearing into the joyous Bubbles.
Finally, after wishing everyone “Have a great summer, we are Biffy. Fuckin’. Clyro”, the band close with the inevitable emotional release of Many Of Horror. Fireworks erupt above Finsbury Park as tens of thousands of voices carry the final chorus long after the band have stopped playing.
It is a fitting conclusion to a day that celebrates everything modern British rock does so well. Every support act rises to the occasion, Nothing But Thieves deliver a performance worthy of headlining arenas in their own right, and Biffy Clyro once again prove that, more than three decades into their career, they remain utterly peerless when it comes to commanding a stage this size.
Live review and photography of Biffy Clyro @ Finsbury Park, London by Kalpesh Patel on 3rd July 2026.
Lucia & The Best Boys Continue Their Rise With A Spellbinding O2 Shepherd’s Bush Performance





Share Thing