Amyl and the Sniffers is a thumping, screaming, wailing magnet for misfits, losers, and outcasts, a clarion call for rejects and mis-shapes that is also an obscenely, outrageously good time. The band borrow heavily from the sartorial style of the Sharpies scene of 1970s Australia – but what makes the group such a blast is that it takes no knowledge of arcane Australian rock’n’roll to enjoy their debut. The group exists entirely on the surface, cranking amps to 11 and playing like they’re in a rush to head back to the bar.
On this debut album, bandleader Amy Taylor channels the energy of their live show and then adds definition to its roar. The appeal of Amyl and the Sniffers is that it never bothers to slow down. The album exists so thoroughly in the moment that it winds up obliterating the group’s fetishization of the past and just delivers pure, uncut rock’n’roll fun. This is an example of a band whose explosive energies have been captured, rather than just recorded.