“Arsehole, bum hole, dumb c*nt”: Anger and escapism, Amyl and The Sniffers
You’ve never heard a statement of intent like it. If you had any doubts about who you were listening to or what Amyl and The Sniffers are all about, it’s made clear within the first 40 seconds of the new album Cartoon Darkness. The opener, ‘Jerkin’, contains noise and feedback, heavy guitar music, and cut-throat lyrics that announce, “You’re a dumb cunt, you’re an arsehole”, “need to wipe your mouth after you speak cos it’s an arsehole, bum hole, dumb cunt,” and of course, “smack, smack, smack, wank, wank, wank”.
“We were rehearsing it once, like a month ago, and in the place we were rehearsing, the guy’s kids were fans,” says Amy Taylor, the band’s lead singer. “So, there were two girls, maybe like five and seven, and we were like, ‘Hey, this song has like heaps of swear words’, and he was like, ‘Let them stay’, and they were loving it”. When an album comes out the gate as hot as this one does, it would seem odd to start an interview anywhere other than the beginning. In complete contrast to the anger displayed in that song, though, both Amy and guitarist Declan Mehrtens are incredibly friendly and cool throughout our chat.
In a press release, Mehrtens spoke about the distinction between anger and joy within the band and how that resonates in their music and them as people. “Maybe a misconception about heavier genres is that there’s a lot of negativity,” he said. “But Amy has such a healthy relationship with anger where it’s therapeutic, and it means she has so much space for joy at the same time.”
That balance certainly resonates on the new album. While many of the songs follow in the footsteps of ‘Jerkin’, others feel like real celebrations. Gone are insults and noise, as room is made for joy, love, and being dumb for the sake of it. Those are the two factors that set the foundation for this album: anger and escapism. On the one hand, the band unleash rage at that which frustrates them; on the other, they surrender to the futility of said rage and take the time to enjoy themselves. It makes for an incredibly compelling listen and is easily the band’s most versatile record to date.
“We wanted to push ourselves; we knew that,” said Taylor. “It was mainly just seeing where people wanted to go and then forming it after that […] Declan brought in some of the softer guitar riffs, we encouraged everyone to play something different, play something new. I think it was kind of formed with that in mind rather than any over-arching concept. I feel like some days we were like, ‘Why don’t we just focus on seeing if we can write country songs today?‘ We’re just trying everything and seeing what we’ve got.”
The predecessor to this record, Comfort To Me, was a triumph, one that shot the band up in everyone’s rankings, put the Amyl’s name on the tips of tongues for any modern music fan discussing the best live band, and created a barrage of singalongs. However, compared to Cartoon Darkness, that album almost starts to look small. That isn’t a dig at Comfort To Me but a testament to the new record, which dances around different branches of rock and punk music effortlessly yet still feels like one body of work.
We hear Taylor at both her most aggressive and her most melodic. The emotive opener contrasts with the serene serendipity of ‘Big Dreams’, and both are a joy. “I can never hear myself over the rock ‘n’ roll music, so with this album, we were like, ‘Let’s just try and get demos down’. That way, I could come in on the night and actually hear my voice over the music,” she said, “That was a conscious decision so that I would not just instinctively yell.”
It’s not just Taylor, though. Instrumentally, all of the band are bringing their A-game. Mehrtens plays some of the most face-melting guitar solos this side of year zero, as the speed, energy, and aggression captured on his six-string invokes images of early hard rock when the genre was at the forefront of rebellion and chaos.
“They’re pretty much improvised,” said Mehrtens, “So, an example, like ‘Big Dreams’, when Bryce [Wilson] is doing the drum tracks, I try something different every time so that I build it. And then it’s kind of like my own race against Bryce where I try and nail that solo, get the idea of it down before he does his perfect take. So that was how ‘Big Dreams’ was done. Mostly, it’s improvised; I really couldn’t write a solo.”
One of the most exciting things about this album is how ambitious the band is in tackling different themes in their songs. Maybe it’s my naivety as a listener, or the fact that when you hear music so raw and vibrant, you assume it has to be about someone or something tangible, but the “arsehole, dumb cunt,” referenced in ‘Jerkin’ is less a specific individual and more the faceless cretin that resides in shadows on social media. Equally, it acts as a scream into the never-ending abyss of the internet, something which doubles up as our best friend and worst enemy.
“I think we’re just passive to the puppeteering of it all. I think even if we had amazing willpower against it, it’s designed to be interlocked with us as a being. So many creatives and so many businesses, even to just exist as a small business, you need to be a part of it in a lot of ways,” said Taylor. “It’s designed to be all-consuming and an extension of ourselves. It’s really out of our control how much we can break away from it. I think it’s possible, but again, to step away from phones now is to step away from society.”
She continued, “I don’t have any answers […] I use my phone so much, and I’m on social media too much, but I think it’s just kind of acknowledging it so it’s in people’s minds rather than just going along with it […] If everyone stops and thinks about it and goes, ‘This is fucking weird’ […] I think there could be a different method, you know?”
The internet gives us access to absolutely everything, whenever we want it, but it also stands as a counterargument to the belief that knowledge is power: why, with my access to every piece of information in the world, do I feel more helpless than ever? Whether that’s on a personal level or a global scale, things have never been slipping away from us more, and that’s the second part of Cartoon Darkness.
It’s a call to arms to acknowledge the burden of that information but also be willing to have the fun you owe yourself as a human being. Tracks like ‘Chewing Gum’ suggest that you should stop living logically and start living emotionally, as “Life is short, life is fun”. Meanwhile, the likes of ‘Big Dreams’ and ‘Going Somewhere’ are an ode to the destination we all want to get to, where we don’t know where it is and wouldn’t recognise it if we got there.
This album is one for the dumb cunts, whether that’s meant as an insult or a term of endearment. It scorns those surrounded by negativity and celebrates those who still find joy in life. It also acts as a testament to the fact that music will always unify as if you are bored with the same old negativity that comes with being online; the complete opposite of being locked in a social media comments section is the feeling you get at an Amyl and The Sniffers gig.
“It’s awesome, it’s such a variety of people, and everyone’s really present. Yeah, some people are filming stuff on their phones, and I’m totally fine with that, but a lot of the time, it’s not like other concerts where their phones are up the whole time. They’re really there,” Taylor explains. “You ever get those moments where you’re just like, ‘Oh fuck, I’m here right now’, and then it lasts for ten minutes, and you’re like, ‘Damn, I’m alive and shit’, I feel like there’s lots of moments like that, which is cool.”
“Doing Amyl, doing poppers, is kind of like going to an Amyl and The Sniffers gig,” agrees Mehrtens, “There’s definitely, like, a rush, maybe perhaps slight loss of consciousness, and then a headache.”
The band have a sound that resonates with people all over the world, and subsequently, has seen them travel all over the world. This album will only enhance that demand, as while it remains confrontational, it’s also the most unifying Amy and The Sniffers have ever sounded. Cartoon Darkness doubles up as screaming into a black hole and cherishing the moments which mean the most to you. It doesn’t revel in hopelessness like many punk albums might. Instead, it acknowledges hopelessness and then brushes it to the side. This is a record that everyone should be able to get behind, arseholes, bum holes and dumb cunts included.
