Full Review

Amyl and the Sniffers, Cartoon Darkness Review

Amyl and the Sniffers have always thrived on pure, raw energy. Their third LP, Cartoon Darkness, is a solid blast of frenetic punk that refuses to compromise, delivering infectious chaos that captures punk rock’s unbridled fury and unfiltered fun. This Melbourne four-piece, led by the irrepressible Amy Taylor, has made it clear that they won’t be smoothing out the edges for broader appeal—instead, they’ve doubled down on their raucous, uncompromising sound, making Cartoon Darkness the album punk needed in 2024.

Opening with “Jerkin’,” the band makes an immediate and unmistakable statement of intent. Taylor spits vitriol at critics and detractors with a barrage of expletives, serving notice that she has zero time for anyone who stands in her way with negativity. It’s a no-holds-barred track where aggressive instruments meet explicit lyrics, setting the stage for an album that aims to confront, provoke, and entertain in equal measure. Declan Martens’ guitar playing is razor-edged, slicing through the din with precision, while Bryce Wilson’s drumming hits with a fury that makes each beat a fist to the gut.

Cartoon Darkness is a record that’s not just about aggression—it’s about wielding that aggression with intent. “Tiny Bikini” is a riotous mockery of public scrutiny, a two-minute firestorm that shakes off the male gaze with a defiant crunchy punk groove to match the lyrics. Meanwhile, “It’s Mine” is a hardcore punk number that is short and not so sweet, a sonic explosion of aggression with a fine guitar solo from Martens. “Doing In Me Head” and “Pigs” have lyrics that express observational frustration and pessimism based on Taylor’s usual biting social commentary. There’s a looming sense of anarchy—personal and societal—in every shouted word and every throttled chord, but if there wasn’t, it would not be punk.

Amyl and the Sniffers aren’t just offering punk fury without reflection. “Bailing on Me” provides a British rock guitar sound and strumming pattern with Gus Romer’s aggressive bass tone. Taylor lets her guard down, singing about heartbreak with genuine vulnerability, showing that beneath the rough-and-tumble exterior, a heart still beats, breaks, and bleeds. This contrast adds to the flow of Cartoon Darkness’ collection of punk bangers.

“U Should Not Be Doing That” offers a horn-backed groove, Romer’s wonderfully toned bass, and Wilson’s steady drumming that takes aim at tall poppy syndrome. This track, complete with a sly, infectious rhythm, stands out as one of the album’s sonic variations. It’s a track where the band channels their anger into an anthem against the toxic scrutiny that has too often plagued them—a piss-off cloaked in punk-rock swagger.

Cartoon Darkness is not a comfortable album—it’s not supposed to be. It’s confrontational, cathartic, and full of energy that can barely be contained, even in the studio. It’s a sonic punch to the face, demanding that you get up, get angry, and get loud. Amyl and the Sniffers haven’t lost an ounce of the rebellious spirit that made them punk rock torchbearers, and their refusal to dial things back as their star rises makes Cartoon Darkness all the more compelling. They’re still the scrappy, snarling force that crashed onto the scene in 2019, but now there’s an added maturity, an understanding of the world they’re railing against that adds a deeper layer to their rage.

The band’s nod to the ’70s punk movement is unmistakable. Taylor’s presence—charismatic, confrontational, and in-your-face—evokes the spirit of those early punk pioneers, while Martens, Wilson, and Romer hold nothing back musically. The album offers solid guitar solos with pounding rhythms, creating a thrilling soundscape and how punk rock should be. Though occasionally repetitive, the energy is undeniable, the message unmissable, and the music damn near unstoppable.

Ultimately, Cartoon Darkness is a guitar-driven, bass, and drum-pounding experience with a feral beast of a vocalist fronting the onslaught that embraces the chaos of punk while taking aim at the injustices of modern life. It’s a record that invites you to scream along, thrash about, and feel a little less alone as the world’s mess kicks you around. In an era of formulaic pop, Amyl and the Sniffers are here to remind us all that there’s still power in raw, unfiltered expression—and the only way forward is with a sneer, a shout, and a blistering attitude. That’s the short of it!