Track 22: Chewing Gum - Amyl and the Sniffers

I check Pitchfork daily despite the fact that they’re going through some hard times lately. I can not remember the last time they did the following:

• Gave a punk rock album a score above an 8.0.
• Gave a punk rock album a Best New Music recommendation.

And to be honest, there has always been a lack of punk coverage on Pitchfork for completely inexplicable reasons. I like the wide coverage of musical styles and that’s one of the reasons I read the bloody thing. But the lack of punk coverage is weirdly suspicious and snotty.

So is this review of Cartoon Darkness, the new album from Australian punks Amyl and the Sniffers. The thing starts with references to Teddy Roosevelt of all people, because nothing is more punk than a progressive if imperialist Republican president, no matter how badass he may have been at times. The album praises the band for their new melodic sensibilities and experimental choices, but chastises their chip-on-the-shoulder tone in the wake of their growing popularity and claims of being sell outs.

To which I ask - what the fuck?

From Brad Sanders’ review, he writes the following:

Telling your haters to fuck off is a reliable rock’n’roll theme, but Cartoon Darkness sometimes seems paranoid, hung up on adversaries who, it seems, haven’t exactly stood in the way of the band’s success. It’s the “nobody believed in us” cliché of championship sports teams, a theme that can become tiring when repeated too often.

Allow me to offer a rebuttal - no it’s not! Besides, what I think is being missed here is that the biggest critic belongs in lead singer Amy Taylor’s head. On tracks like Big Dreams, she sings a lullaby to her younger self, asking her not to give up. On the resounding, ripping Chewing Gum, her younger self answers her, telling her “she’s doing fine.” The song sounds like a classic late 70s punk ripper mixed with sensibilities from The Briefs, but the twist is that the “you” in question is Taylor herself.

When she shouts the following lyrics:

I'm the corkboard, you were the pin
But no one came to work that day
The office empty
And there was nothing to say

The *you* in question is herself, or more appropriately, belief in herself, as she asks herself at the blistering climax of the song.

You were giving me the spotlight, I was in it
I was young and in desire, I'm a winner!
Can you put your heart down there?
Are you with me?
Can you live your life large, baby? I believe it

It’s clear that Taylor is surprised by her success and has been struggling with self-doubt and insecurities, so songs like Chewing Gum and You Should Not Be Doing That are anthems of confidence for a woman who has been dismissed her whole life.

So sure, you can find fault with an album that has a chip on its shoulder, but keep in mind that this is punk rock. Some shoulders deserve chips, and some chips are less about everyone else and more about who owns the shoulders.

Click here for the Infinite Mixtape on Spotify.
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