Cartoon Darkness: The Sunny Nihilism of Amyl & The Sniffer’s 3rd Album

Madeleine Royle-Toone on 9 January 2025

Amyl and the Sniffers are the band-du-jour. If you haven’t heard of them yet, get ready, they’re taking over the scrappy underground of Melbourne’s pub-rock scene worldwide with their third release, Cartoon Darkness. Packing 13 songs into a 33-minute run-time, it’s a pocket-rocket of an album: furiously explosive. 

Upon first hearing Amyl and the Sniffers (far more recently than I’d like to admit), my immediate thought was of the outlawed punk-rockers of early 2000s teen flicks – think ‘Löded Diaper’ from Diary of a Wimpy Kid or Avril Lavigne, in contrast with Hannah Montana. Whilst not the most highbrow of comparisons, I mean that as the utmost compliment; they’ve immortalized the spirit of teenage rebellion and boxed it into an LP.  Cartoon Darkness is truly alive, truly present: aware of the void of that is the modern future, but not depressed by it. This playful energy is a breath of fresh air, amongst the overthought, must-change-the-world mentality that plagues alternative musicians of the adult world.

Cartoon Darkness, a title taken from the lyrics of ‘Doing In Me Head’, epitomises the sunny nihilism of its name. The album is a myriad of social commentary, from gender politics, to the tyranny of social media. A track list that could quickly get depressing, were it not for the band’s relentless positivity and humour. In an interview with hometown publication Triple J, frontwoman Amy Taylor concedes that yes, ‘the world is boring and we’re gonna die’ but she doesn’t want to mourn prematurely, and rather live it up whilst we’re here. If it is a frog-in-a-pot situation, she’s suggesting a pool party. It’s this mindset that gives way to the gleeful, pedal-to-the-metal sound that characterizes the band. Their writing process is exactly what you’d expect. Guitarist Declan Mehrtens affirms that a large section of the record was written on impulse, as ‘The more you have to play a song, the more stale and less excitement is in it’. Whilst he admits that sometimes this method produces ‘dog-shit’, you can hear that life and movement in their work. Giddy Up (2016), the band’s first LP was written and released in a 12-hour whirlwind, and whilst the band have matured since – taking a careful 24 hours to produce this album– their new release is certainly not stagnant.

The record opens with the provocative threesome (minds out of the gutter, please), of ‘Jerkin’, ‘Chewing Gum’ and ‘Tiny Bikini’. Whilst I’m not one to be shy – albeit gutter humour– the opening lyrics of the album are so crude I’m reluctant to transcribe them in print. The Sniffers, if you will, are great, producing a classic rock sound reminiscent of Aussie ancestors AC/DC. What really differentiates the band however, are Taylor’s vocals, cutting through the catchy guitar riffs, all guns blazing. The centre of the album mellows into softer tracks ‘Big Dreams’ and ‘Bailing On Me’ (still peppered, of course, with the high-voltage, supercharged likes of ‘Pigs’ and ‘It’s Mine’). In comparison to the full assault of their two previous albums, Comfort To Me (2021) and Amyl and the Sniffers (2019), this slower feel is a new sonic venture for the band, bringing a depth and maturity that I hope to see more of in their future. Still, my top pick is the classic Sniffers tune, ‘U Should Not Be Doing That’, which embodies the spirit of the album, packed with irony, independence, and a healthy dose of vulgarity. It’s a stellar track. 

My qualm with Cartoon Darkness, however, is that it should have stopped there. The record’s final trio is by no means bad, but in my opinion, doesn’t add anything to the album, and it becomes a bit samey at this point. Scathing musical criticism aside, the album composition is great – a vivid, established personal sound with some fun new twists – a concoction that’s put them on top of everyone’s ‘ones to watch’ lists for 2025.

In an age filled with men like Donald Trump, we need more women like Amy Taylor. I hate to fall into the trap of beelining to focus on a female artist’s appearance, but it can’t be ignored – she is SO cool. Rocking a peroxide-blonde Farah Fawcett cut and the booty shorts of ‘Tiny Bikini’, she is truly the star of the show. “Holy mother of god, this is a true rock star” said Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins, upon first seeing her onstage. Watching her perform, what comes – or rather races- to mind is Gwen Stefani in ‘No Doubt’, circa Tragic Kingdom (1995).  Whilst there’s an obvious visual resemblance, I think what triggers this association is the gutsy feminism of ‘Just A Girl’, the anger and passion of which reverberates through Taylor’s writing. Her lyrics and tone are a mocking bark, as she shrieks ‘the losers are online and they are obsessed’ in the face of the easily aggravated but essentially empty-mouthed ‘losers’. In interviews she is down-to-earth and genuine; when asked about the influence of literature on her music she just laughs and says ‘I love books’. But this doesn’t at all detract from her intelligence and self-assuredness, rather, she wants to avoid the holier-than-thou mindset, and make the band’s overt political rioting accessible, rather than intimidating. ‘I don’t want them to feel ashamed’ she tells The Guardian, ‘the security guard might live on a farm in Kentucky and shoot animals and eat them – he might not know about, like, identity politics’. Their relentless political focus isn’t lost in the cacophony of Cartoon Darkness, and their experience going into their 3rd album draws a focused perspective onto these, more specific, niches.

With a stint as BBC Radio 6’s ‘Artist in Residence’, and a feature on NME’s top 50 albums of 2024, Amyl and the Sniffers are -literally- everywhere with their new release, and about to embark on a 2025 world tour. They’re starting at home down under, so if you missed them in the UK this autumn you’ll have to wait until mid-July to see them supporting Fontaines D.C. at Finsbury park – in which time they’ll likely have released another 3 albums and topped the charts – it only takes them a day. 

Words by Madeline Royle-Toone

Amyl and the Sniffers show at The Stylus let down by violent masculinity

Aimee Ferrier on 14 June 2022

I stumbled upon Australian punks Amyl and the Sniffers a few years back through their connection to Flightless Records, the independent label founded by former King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard drummer Eric Moore. I became enthralled by recordings of the band’s raucous live performances, which featured lead singer Amy Taylor screaming lyrics about the socio-political state of Australia whilst shaking her bleach blonde mullet with an uncontainable energy. On the evening of a rather placid Sunday, I finally got to see the band in action at the University of Leeds’s very own Stylus. 

My first qualm with the night came from the support act – a local Yorkshire band called Geoffrey Oi!Cott. The four-piece made up of middle-aged balding beer-bellied white men, all sporting cricket uniforms and instruments plastered with Leeds United stickers, took to the stage chanting ‘YORKSHIRE, YORKSHIRE!’. The band began playing their poor imitation of punk with a technical skill level comparable to that of GCSE music students. I imagine their music is what non-punk fans think punk sounds like. As they sloppily made their way through their mind-numbingly dull set which consisted of songs about cricket, beer, and Yorkshire, I was left wondering where Amyl and the Sniffers had found such a poor excuse for a punk band. Furthermore, the band played a track entitled ‘Dawn of the Dickie Birds,’ a rather misogynistic tune dedicated to the women in the audience (of which there were very few, especially in comparison to the sea of ageing white male punks in the crowd) that included lyrics such as “she’s as good as it gets” and “push against the wall and tamper with your balls.” These men were the epitome of aggressive masculinity, too preoccupied with beer and their Yorkshire pride to write anything that could actually be considered true punk. Why couldn’t Amyl and the Sniffers, arguably the most successful punk band currently operating with a female lead, give this opportunity to a band with underrepresented members? After all, punk truly belongs to those of marginalised genders and races, not middle-aged white men who already dominate our mainstream. What have they got to be angry about? The rising price of beer? According to their music, that’s about it. 

Once they had finally left the stage it was time for the main act. Tearing onto the stage in a T-shirt that read ‘Fuck You You Fuckin’ Fuck,’ Amy Taylor began singing one of my personal favourites from the band, ‘Control.’ Almost instantly the crowd were slamming their sweating bodies against each other with uncontrollable excitement. I am no stranger to mosh pits and rowdy crowds, however, something about this felt different. Within the first song my friend was lifted over the barrier by security, unable to withstand the violent men that were throwing punches at every given chance. I had no intention of moshing from my place at the barrier, however, the intensity of the crowd led me to be thrown so hard that, as I write this, there are a large collection of bruises decorating my arms, legs, and hips. There was a severe lack of respect for personal boundaries and the well-being of fellow gig-goers in the crowd that left me feeling unsafe. One man, old enough to be my dad, was pressed so hard against me that I had to fight back tears. I could not concentrate on the music, sounds blended into white noise as I felt the weight of this man against me. There was definitely opportunity for him to move with the crowd, yet his front stayed firmly pressed against me. The pits were nothing more than great exertions of masculinity – men preoccupied with displaying their ability to withstand harsh crowds with no respect for those who had no interest in joining in. I was lifted out of the crowd by security with an overwhelming sense of anger inside of me. Women should be able to enjoy live music without feeling as though their bodies have been violated and made to feel at risk. It’s times like this that I don’t think men will ever truly understand the implications of their actions. 

Once I was away from the aggressiveness, I was able to actually take in what I was watching. After removing her t-shirt to reveal a sparkly bra top which accompanied her cherry-patterned short-shorts, Amy strutted around the stage with admirable confidence, flexing her arms and sticking out her tongue. The band were on top form, driving through tracks that were mainly from their 2019 self-titled album, and their newest release Comfort to Me. A standout moment of the set was their performance of ‘Knifey,’ a track about violence against women that draws lyrical parallels to fellow Australian Courtney Barnett’s song ‘Nameless Faceless.’ Hearing the voices of women dominate the audience as they shouted along to the lyrics about simply wanting to walk home safely made me feel a little less alone, particularly after what I had just experienced near the front of the crowd. The band ended their set with the killer ‘Some Mutts (Can’t be Muzzled)’ which stands out as one of their most impressive tracks. With intense guitar riffs and heavy bass, the song was the perfect outro for a high-octane performance. 

To conclude – I think Amyl and the Sniffers are incredible performers, who delivered every song with impressive stamina and energy. However, considering they have songs such as ‘Knifey,’ I would have appreciated if they were more active in looking out for the audience. It was clear that many people at the front were being squashed to the point of danger, yet they ignored this. It would have also been nice to see a support act that weren’t laughable middle-aged white male punks. You can still enjoy a punk gig without hurting people. You can enjoy it without disregarding people’s boundaries. Gigs should be places for people to collectively enjoy music they like, not fear for their safety. Sadly, I left Amyl and the Sniffers feeling upset, violated, and angry. An intense display of masculinity ruined what I hoped to be a fun night of female-centric punk. That’s not to say I wouldn’t see them again, because musically they were great. Next time I’ll be stood far away from the aging men attempting to relive their punk youths down in the pit.