Amyl And The Sniffers say that when they are on tour, energy is a precious commodity. Anyone who has ever seen the Melbourne punk quartet live will understand what a massive understatement that is. Their shows are a riotous whirlwind, snarling and menacing and joyous and chaotic all at the same time. You know how sometimes, when you don’t like a band but you don’t want to break it to them, the only compliment you can think of is, ‘That was really tight!’? Amyl And The Sniffers are the opposite of that. They are the anti-tight saviours for people who want their rock’n’roll to sound like it’s about to collapse on top of you.
For the band’s totemic ringleader Amy Taylor, who invariably spends the group’s shows shadow-boxing, climbing lighting rigs and darting around her bandmates, their gigs are the opposite of what everyone is witnessing. Where we see craziness, their singer sees calm. “I’m not thinking at all,” she says. “It’s somewhere between meditation and nothing at all. I don’t know if I think at all. It’s not like we’re the most polished band in the world but so much of what we do is spirit.”
