Each time the song is on its way to becoming a little too house-trained, dry, and smart will it almost inevitably a backlash. Bands that want to find their way back to the rock’n’roll, the original force. 2019 called one of them Amyl and the Sniffers. Four australians, three men in the irony (I think, it is so difficult to know now-a-days) cistern and so Amy Taylor at the front, a head shorter than his colleagues literally, a head higher than most of the contemporary rock’n’roll singer, figuratively speaking.
She gapes, snäser and yells out sharp one liners (the brilliant ”I’m not a loser” had been able to be a ståupprutin) with the same inexorable energy. When she is not singing, or whatever you call it, headbangs, she so often and much that you hope that there is a chiropractor standby backstage. Even if it probably won’t do it: this is the music that does not care about tomorrow.
play punk so straightforward and undisguised that you will be glad that they dare to be so simple, that they do not krusidullar to anything at all. Here, there is no desire to create a sense of dynamism or variety. The plate just the bottom of the carpet. So. Fast. It. Just. Go.
That you have seen and heard it before, and at almost exactly the same way, one can possibly have objections. If you are dull. You might want to also point out that the Amyl and the Sniffers both looks and sounds like a fifteen-year-old report in the magazine Vice, although I’m leaning towards that it has gone full circle and most are fun.
And regardless of the objections is the concert, relentlessly and shamelessly entertaining. Short and concise, in addition: it is all over in a little over forty minutes, but neither in particular, many have breathing pauses, or other malware. At the time, the time Amy Taylor – of course – in addition, both the stagedivea and crowdsurfa a couple of times.
Read more of DN’s concert reviews here.
