Amyl and The Sniffers : Cartoon Darkness Review

by Shannon Smith

From the moment the snarling distortion kicks in on “Jerkin’,” it’s clear that Cartoon Darkness is an album of defiance. Amyl and The Sniffers charge headfirst into the chaotic void, swinging wildly at anyone foolish enough to step in their way. It’s punk as it ought to be: a defiant shout against convention, a raw howl at the absurdities of the world. The Melbourne four-piece, led by Amy Taylor’s vitriolic vocals, bring a reckless energy that recalls Sid Vicious’ snarling presence, albeit with today’s wit and sense of fun. There’s even a splash of Plasmatics-style carnage, though Amy leans more towards gleeful provocation than outright demolition.

The opener, “Jerkin’,” perfectly embodies that untamed spirit. Taylor comes out swinging, berating some sorry detractors with a torrent of “You’re a dumb cunt / You’re an arsehole,” launching the album with her vocals pushing to the point of screaming. The song is unapologetic, pure punk fury, on can even hear a little 80’s rock in the rhythm and the glorious maelstrom of Bryce Wilson’s propulsive drums and Declan Martens’ scuzzy guitar chords that make the punk vibe feel alive and kickin’. It’s a direct rebuke to the critics and haters, turning their sneers into her fuel and an erect start to the album.

This energy pervades much of the album. Tracks like “Motorbike Song” celebrate raw, unfiltered desires with unhinged riffs and Taylor’s unabashed growl, while “Doing In Me Head” takes shots at those who just can’t seem to let her live her life without adding their two cents—the venom delivered with a sneering grin and a blistering punk backbeat. There’s no filter, no pretense, and absolutely no hesitation.

Yet, it’s not all gasoline and Molotovs. Taylor and her bandmates know how to switch gears without losing their footing. “Bailing On Me” pulls the tempo back as Taylor’s voice shifts from a weapon to a lament, carrying lines like “Damn, here I go again / I’m heartbroken” with surprising tenderness. The band strips away the distortion to let the melancholy seep in, creating a raw, poignant juxtaposition against the ferocious tracks surrounding it.

“U Should Not Be Doing That” stands as one of the album’s peaks, a swaggering song driven by Gus Romer’s insistent bass groove. It’s a catchy shout of resistance, with Taylor aiming her ire at the small-minded men trying to police her expression. The sharp lyrics, calling out the absurdity of their complaints and invoking the Indigenous names of Australian states, make this track more than just a catchy tune—it’s a statement of identity and pride. There’s something undeniably infectious in the way she belts out, “I was in Naarm, working on my shit, while you were down in Tassie saying ‘Flash those tits!'” It’s a rebuke wrapped in humor, wielded with a sledgehammer of charisma.

Musically, the album leans into classic punk influences, echoing the grit of ’70s Britain and the brashness of early American hardcore. Declan Martens’ guitar licks are frantic and razor-sharp, bringing to mind The Stooges at their rawest. On “Pigs,” he shreds with abandon at the end, matching Taylor’s riotous sneer as she declares, “We’re all pigs after all!” It’s a full-throttle track that embodies punk’s primal, unpolished nature, a blistering assault that hits fast and leaves a lasting sting.

But Cartoon Darkness isn’t just a throwback—it’s a progression. Three albums in, Amyl and the Sniffers have honed their craft without losing an ounce of the ferocity that defined their debut. Taylor’s vocals are sharper, the lyrics more biting, and the band’s cohesion is at an all-time high. Tracks like “Chewing Gum” blend their characteristic chaos with a catchy hook, proving they can write punk tunes that are as memorable as they are ferocious.

The closing track, “Me And The Girls,” wraps the album with a triumphant snarl. There’s no high-minded concept here—just a simple, resounding declaration of camaraderie and a big, loud “Fuck You” to anyone trying to spoil the fun. Taylor sneers, “Me and the girls are gonna go party / You and the boys can shut the fuck up,” capturing the essence of Cartoon Darkness in a single line. It’s loud, unrepentant, and entirely self-assured—everything punk should be.

Cartoon Darkness is an exhilarating listen. It’s the sound of a band that knows exactly who they are and doesn’t care if you’re on board. It’s dirty, it’s aggressive, and it’s gloriously unpolished. Amy Taylor is the charismatic nucleus around which the chaos swirls, her presence echoing the dangerous allure of vintage punk but with today’s aesthetics and resilience. Amyl and The Sniffers haven’t just made a punk record—they’ve made a statement. And that statement is simple: take it or leave it, but don’t expect them to tone it down.