Huddled around a table with Simon Neil and the Johnston twins in a cramped LA venue far from home, we sank weak American beer and laughed our arses off about Matt Cardle.

That’s how it was supposed to happen.

In fact, I flew half way across the globe for a Biffy chat to be told, “Simon has a bad throat. James is free.” This is now the third consecutive interview I had been fobbed off with Frontman Syndrome. Not to dismiss young Jimbo, but let’s be honest. As old skool devotees, we want to hear from the man himself; quiz him about hitting the mainstream, where the magic of ‘Vertigo of Bliss‘ went, get inside the head of a boy from Ayr who is now an idol to his cult of followers.

Not so.

Nevertheless, bassist James is a gentle soul who answers my questions, but who is also guarded. Tour manager Neil Anderson hovers within earshot, ready to pounce if I ask something awkward. (He being the one that deleted an uncomfortable X Factor question in a previous email interview). But at the risk of sounding bitter, let’s move on…

The trio have been schlepping across a host of tiny venues, whoring out ‘Only Revolutions‘ to the nth degree, in a bid to conquer the States. It is there second American headline tour, promptly offered by a support slot with the Foo Fighters on their US dates. Their exponential popularity is hard to swallow. But despite loyal fans vexed by their seeming attempts for world domination, the Scotsmen still hold home comforts close and won’t surrender to a Beverly Hills mansion just yet.

James tells how “There’s a running joke that we can’t live without Irn-Bru, which is sort of true. Somebody brought us Irn-Bru in Cambridge, Boston. The girl said she’d just got back from Scotland but it definitely wasn’t from there. I know this sounds strange, but Irn-Bru in America is different. It doesn’t have a vital ingredient as one of the E numbers is illegal. It doesn’t give you the same weird hangover feeling, so we were a little disappointed.”

“Another big thing we miss is Match Of The Day. We download that on a Saturday night for Sunday, so there’s a whole day of ‘Don’t go online, don’t get the results’, but somebody always does and sniggers to themselves quietly in the back knowing the outcome.”

“Also, the people out here sometimes have a little trouble understanding us. There have been a few comments about the accent, like, ‘What the fuck are you guys saying?’ We try to speak slowly, but we’re used to it.“

“Even in England we get, ‘What the hell are you talking about?’”

Pushing for more intimate details and backstage antics, the words ‘blood’ and ‘stone’ come to mind. But we get onto the NME Awards, which saw the band cross the Atlantic mid-tour to attend the ceremony and collect their gong for Best Live Band.

“We had time to have a bit of a party before getting back on a plane. It got a little bit messy, mainly because we were jetlagged. We sampled some of the free champagne, but we didn’t know what was going on with our bodies time wise. It was very confusing but it made it doubly exciting, a slight out-of-body experience the whole time we were there.”

I pry a little further about the rock n roll carnage that followed that night, but am told “no one remembers“. Sure.

While neither of us venture into Cowell territory – afraid Neil will boot me out the Troubadour before I’ve seen the show – James does defend territorial old fans who were, shall we say, a little miffed about “Many Of Horror” being bastardised into “When We Collide” for Christmas No1 last December.

“I think it’s sweet, it’s a natural thing when you’ve held something dear to you for such a long time and then it’s shared with other people. It’s the phenomena that is this world. It’s happened to us with bands when we were younger, when they start to break through you feel a little sad.“

“We were really big Weezer fans and then they had their hit with Buddy Holly and it was such a tongue-in-cheek song we didn’t really feel it represented the band well.“

“But I don’t feel like we’re being pulled in any direction though, we’ve always tried to do things our own way. Some people get frustrated, but it just means they care a lot. It’s not like they’re genuinely pissed off with us, they’re probably more pissed off with the new fans who haven’t worked as hard as they have or haven’t earned it in the same way.“

“I want fans to experience the full journey and I guess when they only know the lyrics to a couple of songs then it’s a challenge again. Even if they’ve got the latest record, we still feel we’ve got something to prove with all the work we’ve done before. But I no longer get frustrated when people only know the words to later material. I used to find it a bit irksome, but if you’re on the radio or TV that’s how people find out about your band.”

Old or new, their fans are still obviously dedicated, clinging onto the hope that the authenticity of their earlier work will be repeated and proving so with an army of them tattooing themselves with their logo and lyrics.

James said: “It’s emotional when you see that. The first few times we were properly in tears. I just can’t believe how many people are willing to brand themselves. It’s a big commitment, it’s really beautiful. It’s difficult to find the words to explain. One woman Yvonne from Glasgow got us to sign her very carefully and then she got the signatures tattooed.”

As Biffy prepare to headline Sonisphere in front of 55,000 people this summer – their first time headlining a major festival – the enormity of their success is still hard to digest.

“When I sit and think, it’s pretty surreal, but the other side of me says it’s not much different to another gig. I want to do well every night, so will just try and employ the same sort of mindset – and not fucking completely freak out.”

He added: “We’re a bit over portaloos though, give us Knebworth House for the dressing room instead please.”

The Atrocity.

Monochrome by Danny North