Music Critic Alyanna Batoy reviews Amyl and the Sniffers show at the O2 Academy, celebrating the band’s energy and communal spirit
Amidst a week filled with anxiety and grief over recent political affairs and the state of women’s rights, my friends and I found refuge in Amyl and the Sniffers’ Cartoon Darkness tour. What I had originally been uncertain about attending turned into one of the best concert experiences I have ever had, with the O2 Academy buzzing with an atmosphere that felt like release and rebellion.
The night started strong with the opening act Upchuck, a five-piece punk band from Atlanta, who set the venue alight. Frontwoman KT ignited the stage with such intensity that it was impossible not to get swept up in the crowd. She even joined the mosh pit during their final song, blurring the line between audience and artist; a moment that ended up separating me from my friends as the pit surged with raw chaos.
We got some necessary fresh air afterwards, noticing signs posted around the venue underlining Amyl and the Sniffers’ strict intolerance for harassment and assault at their gigs – an immediate reminder that this was a space where we could all feel safe.
When the band finally took the stage, the energy hit another level. In the era of phone oceans and the post-pandemic decline in concert etiquette, this show felt like a throwback to when being fully present defined live music. You could feel the unity – everywhere you looked were people exhilarated, sweaty, and in sync. By the second song, I felt so comfortable that I powered through the rest of the show in just a sports bra, embracing the liberation and intensity that characterised the crowd.
Behind the band, a live video projection captured the crowd’s energy, projecting it back to us in real time. We were looking at ourselves, watching our own adrenaline-fuelled reflection on a grainy screen, evocative of 90’s MTV nostalgia. It was a feedback loop of energy – us watching them, them amplifying us, the evidence of that across the stage like a mirror.
The instrumentation was kinetic as well as aural: the bass reverberated through the floor, the relentless punk drumming, and the raw sensuality of the guitar added layers of grit and tactility. It was an undeniably physical experience, and you could tell that each band member loved what they were doing from the genuine joy plastered on their faces.
But nothing felt more empowering, more reassuring than seeing front woman Amy Taylor parading across the stage so authentically herself: scantily clad, wind in her hair, with her lyrics echoing back to her in the crowd’s attempt at her thick Melbourne accent. Her stage presence was magnetic and conversational, an exchange flowing between her and the audience, feeding off our energy as much as we did of hers. For one hour on a Sunday night, it felt as though we witnessed the embodiment of strength, defiance, and play all at once – a real force on stage at a time when many of us feel the looming threat that women’s rights are under.
The setlist blended their most popular hits to songs from their new album Cartoon Darkness, ranging from upbeat feminist anthems to songs about fear and survival. ‘Me and The Girls’ was a feel-good celebration of girlhood, while ‘Knifey’ struck a more sombre, wrathful chord, voicing the all-too-familiar fear of walking alone at night as a woman or non-binary person. Amyl and the Sniffers created a space where we could let it all out together. Each song punched with energy, anger, and hope; all mirroring the weight of contemporary culture whilst never feeling preachy.
Despite the exhaustion and the remnants of the Biryani I had for lunch threatening to make an appearance, the prospect of leaving the crowd felt criminal, as if we could pre-empt the FOMO that would hit the second we stepped away. It was all part of the chaos that made this gig unforgettable not just as a concert, but as a cathartic experience.
In times as uncertain as these, concerts like these are few and far between. Amyl and the Sniffers delivered more than just a show but an escape that synthesised raw energy, community, and acceptance. A night like this was a reminder of the power of live music, not to only entertain but to unite and empower.
Read more:
Comments