Live Report: Amyl and The Sniffers shake up the National Stadium with relentless urgency

When Australian four-piece Amyl and The Sniffers step onto the stage of Dublin’s National Stadium, it’s like the air is suddenly charged with electricity, heavy bass riffs and crunchy guitar chords resonating through the room from the very first second.

Seeing frontwoman Amy Taylor shouting out the opening track ‘Doing In Me Head’, there is absolutely no doubt as to why the venue is so shaken up: neither the singer nor the musicians need any warm up, immediately running and jumping around, movements and sound as unceremonious as they are playful.

Amyl and the Sniffers at The National Stadium. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

The crowd matches the band’s energy effortlessly, mosh-pits running wild from the first song to the last and headbangs rampant even in the seated section – perhaps the strongest sign that a punk gig is going to be deeply unforgettable.

The atmosphere that Amyl and The Sniffers bring to the table is down to the very well-crafted formula of their sound, which ultimately bleeds into the whole performance: a hard-hitting balance of absolute rage and unrelenting fun, visible in every heavy guitar riffs and punchy bass lines, as well as Taylor’s uncompromising vocals of punky shouted-words, lined with a strangely melodic quality that seem to uncontrollably pour out of her.

Amyl and the Sniffers at The National Stadium. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

But no matter how boisterous their energy, the band haven’t lost the spirit of their genre: bluntly political and brutally angry. Taylor takes a rare pause to voice out her frustration at the state of the world, and more specifically at the genocide in Gaza, before bursting into the appropriately placed ‘Jerkin’’, the opener to their riotous new album Cartoon Darkness.

This political aspect seems to flow out of the band’s entire discography and live performances, each track like a snarly gut-punch of furious nihilism, each unapologetically sexual dance move from Taylor reading like a massive “fuck you” to anyone who’s ever dared to say that rock’n’roll was dead.

Amyl and the Sniffers at The National Stadium. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

Although one could compliment Taylor’s extraordinary performance for hours on end, it would be a crime not to give the same attention to the rest of the band, who, while having the undeniable ability to let their frontwoman shine as much as she deserves to, offer the perfect fervent backdrop to every single track.

Guitarist Declan Mehrtens appears evidently as an absolute master to his craft, his sound sitting at the crossroads between noisy, piercing chords and intricate guitar solos that leave none of his impressive technical skills to the imagination, like on the ruthless ‘Some Mutts (Can’t Be Muzzled)’.

Amyl and the Sniffers at The National Stadium. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

Arguably, the breathless intensity of the gig is largely carried by Gus Romer’s hefty bass lines and Bryce Wilson’s pounding drums, offering a regular yet unbridled rumbling rhythmic section that would force even the tamest audience member into a neck-shattering headbang.

Mid-way through the gig, the two men take a second to remove their shirts – not without a tongue-in-cheek ‘oooh’ from Taylor – before jumping into ‘Guided by Angels’, a bass-heavy and sharp stab of a tune that undeniably warrants this attempt to cool off.

Amyl and the Sniffers at The National Stadium. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

In the midst of this ferocious, absolute rager of a set, ‘Big Dreams’, its relatively minimalist instrumentation of reverbed electric guitars and surprisingly melodic vocal performance marks one of the only proper breathers, the track almost reading like a rock ballad – which it is, in fact, not at all, with its elaborate guitar solo and fast, drums-filled bridge.

Amyl and the Sniffers at The National Stadium. Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

There is, however, absolutely no points of the evening in which you would wish for a break, the band’s inexorable roughness making for one of the most cathartic performances that this reviewer has ever had the pleasure to come by, and leaving the National Stadium’s audience with hoarse voices and impossibly sore necks – the ultimate testaments to a monumental punk gig.