

On ‘Cartoon Darkness’, Amyl And The Sniffers celebrate whilst at the same time killing off haters like it was Call Of Duty.
There are worse jobs in music, but being the frontwoman of a punk rock band feels like it could be right up there.
Sure there are plenty of role models, but most of them amount to some kind of limited expression; whoever or whatever you want to be, there’s always somebody out there who thinks you have no right to be it.
Amy Taylor has no time for flinching or blinking, and in the course of the last half decade Amyl And The Sniffers have become a global thing, one that on Cartoon Darkness she and the band celebrate whilst at the same time killing off haters like it was Call Of Duty.
From Melbourne, their last album Comfort To Me was like an explosion of energy after months spent in lockdown living together; lyrically not much was off the table, yet it managed to both toughen and stretch a sound that had been to that point more rudimentary.
Its follow-up sees Amyl And The Sniffers taking some evolutionary steps, but begins with a middle finger jammed right where the sun don’t shine on the opener Jerkin’. Better not be you on this; ‘You’re a dumb cunt/you’re an arsehole’, it starts before then following with, ‘You are just a critic’, and a chorus of, ‘Keep jerkin on your squirter, cunt/You won’t get with me’.
As a gobby tirade it’s funny and you’re left in zero doubt authentic, but it’s far from the only time somebody gets caught in Taylor’s cross hairs.
On Tiny Bikini, the vapid world of social media gets it, the peth delivered in a Barbie-style tone, the purpose of which ironically would be lost on those getting the piss taken out of them.
Take your pick of whom to emulate, in amongst the gut punching riffs (they’ve got some chops when they need them), the Courtney Love-isms of Big Dreams open up a new angle on the ramalama-fuck you staples they don’t lean on, but have off to a tee.

The same but different, Chewing Gum – about our constant oscillation between moods and modes of life – showcases the control and power of an outfit willing to let things play out beyond two or three chords.
Fans of progress will like it, and if so they’ll probably love U Should Not Be Doing That, a new wave mining piece that goes out swinging at trolls both foreign and domestic, and a track rounded out by a bit of skronking sax, whilst the feral power of It’s Mine is a nod to a female-led hardcore scene now proudly festering across many countries.
If we’re doing honesty however (and at the risk of ending up getting hexed on the next album), there are a couple of vibe-breaking duds here, Bailing On Me a soporific tale of relationship strife whilst the apocalyptic Doing In Me Head loses a handful of points for wrapping boldly minded ideas up in a bruising football terrace chorus.
Trying too hard? Maybe, but that can’t detract from an ability to snake charm mosh pits everywhere on the heads down scramble of Pigs (‘You want the noose, or you want the electric chair?’), or the trashy funk and vocoder FOMO roasting Me And The Girls.
There are worse jobs in rock n’ roll than being a female fronting a punk band, and there are many worse frontwomen than Amy Taylor.
Cartoon Darkness is a message from Amyl And The Sniffers’ world for anyone who thinks it’s meant for them: they’re doing it their way, and judging isn’t in our gift to give.

