The power of Shame
The London punks stole my heart in January 2021, and they haven't given it back!
When I first heard Songs of Praise, the debut album from Shame in 2018, I didn’t think much of it. The opener on their first Dead Oceans appearance, “Dust on Trial,” is what I was looking for from the band: it’s dark, contains a brilliant build-up, and introduces you to the intriguing world of Shame.
Charlie Steen doesn't have the best voice you've ever heard, you might hate his words, but he really doesn't care. Guitarists Eddie Green and Sean Coyle-Smith exchange motorik riffs throughout the record, warranting comparisons to Gang of Four or Talking Heads. Meanwhile, bassist Josh Finerty makes his own space to groove, and drummer Charlie Forbes is either a ferocious beast or anxiously flicking his drum kit.
Sure enough, Songs of Praise isn’t all that innovative, nor is the white-male anger on display. What brought attention to Shame was the effortless kinetic nature of the songwriting, incredible energy as a young live band, and messaging.
In a 2018 interview with The Guardian, Steen and Forbes proclaimed that the “idea of a rock star is offensive” – the “leather jacket-wearing, womanising, drug-fuelled rock star should be burned,” Steen shared. Forbes addressed the complex hypocrisies with the mindset, adding that with loving Iggy Pop and David Bowie, “there’s an attraction to someone who lives a lifestyle you’ll never be able to live… because it’s so dysfunctional and damaging to you as a person. You can almost live your life through them.” Shame won’t become rock stars because the partying lifestyle only exists with money. Steen reckons that “bands can’t go out now and get a kilo of coke or drive to Las Vegas in a Ferrari. Now it’s get a gram of speed and sit in a Travelodge.”
Sometimes, the South London quintet shot and missed on Songs of Praise. While Steen tells a horrific story of a lecherous old man carrying on a “relationship” with a younger girl on “Gold Hole,” the title alone and a couple of lines are pretty gross. His heart was in the right place, but the execution was flawed.
Most of the time, though, the album is good. I almost understood the hype around Shame in 2018 when I heard "Angie" – their first proper ballad – which was greatly influenced by the Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds track, “Where the Wild Roses Grow.” “Angie” moves with a driving beat as Steen incorporates a dry spoken-word vocal to narrate a bleak love story. The song left producer Dan Foat in tears, so moved that he and co-producer Nathan Boddy insisted that "Angie" made the album.
Songs of Praise is a cool debut album that announced to the world that Shame had arrived onto the post-punk scene, and they would be the loudest of them all. I adore songs and elements on their debut, while other moments leave me cold. The guitar sound and production on Songs of Praise also reminded me too much of other artists on the Dead Oceans roster who put out albums in 2017 and 2018, including Phoebe Bridgers, Mitski, and Slowdive. It just didn’t feel new to me.
Enter Drunk Tank Pink, Shame's latest album, my album of the year. Shame went from being a band I sort of enjoyed to a band I love with their sophomore album, released in January this year. I have been racking my brain for ages, attempting to explain why I connect with this record so much.
Steen wrote the lyrics for the album in a cupboard in his London flat that’s painted Baker-Miller pink, or drunk tank pink, a colour observed to calm aggressive behaviour and lower heart rates. These songs don’t lower my heart rate. The album cover features black-and-white pictures of Forbes’ grandfather, photographed by artist, photographer, and videographer Tegen Williams. Unlike Songs of Praise, Drunk Tank Pink wasn’t road-tested before recording.
Steen shared that the band recorded songs as they were written with Guitar.com: “In comparison to how we wrote Songs of Praise, which was a pretty straightforward five of us in a room jamming kind of approach, it gave us a bit more scope to be more thoughtful about what we were writing and reflect on individual elements of each song while they were being created. I think that naturally lent itself to a more meticulous process.” The process paid off: Drunk Tank Pink revels in playfulness, uncontainable intensity, and idyllic moments of emotional surrender. It’s an album that reflects a band that’s been on the road for too long and the turbulence — frustration, anger, heartbreak, insomnia — that comes with it.
Drunk Tank Pink opens with one of the most ferocious Shame songs to date, “Alphabet,” a rambunctious number that questions your happiness. "Are you waiting to feel good?" he shrieks over barrelling drums and powerful guitars. On the frenetic “Nigel Hitter,” Shame burn at both ends. “March Day” takes the mundane – Steen’s “consistent unwillingness to wake up on time—my obsession and devotion to my bed and my bedroom” – and dials up the grooves. The spectacular “Human, for a Minute” was the first track written post-Songs of Praise, focusing on the end of a relationship and discovering Steen's identity through the collapse. His spoken-word delivery stunningly suits the dramatic music; it’s my favourite song on the album because of the emotion.
"Great Dog" is a nonsense song that restlessly acknowledges the beauty of all canines. "6/1" contains one of my favourite moments on the album – the music drops before a few keyboard strokes, and Steen belts out, “I pray to no god/I am God/I am every thought your mind has ever held/I prevent nothing, and nothing prevented me.” The chaos is unbelievable.
The six-and-a-half-minute closer, “Station Wagon,” exemplifies how far Shame has come in two years. “Station Wagon” is a grand finale, a final conversation with Steen and an ode to the great Sir Elton John at the end (“won’t somebody please bring me that cloud?!”). Opening as a meandering poem ala The Doors, Shame has learned to give in to ambition and utilise theatrics to their advantage. When the major-key piano-led coda hits, an already great song becomes mind-blowing.
In February this year, I reviewed the Manchester Orchestra A Black Mile to the Surface livestream for Chorus.fm. Towards the end of the article, I asked why music journalists succumb to the 24-hour news cycle, only giving coverage to artists before or directly after an album is released and called for us to change how we discuss music.
That’s why I’m writing this today, many months after Drunk Tank Pink was released into the world. I’m left wishing that Shame put out this album in July or later this year so that the recency effect would take hold and more people would be discussing the record with me in November. It's sad how we forget about artists who don’t have the fame and publicity of Adele or Taylor Swift unless there’s an anniversary of an iconic album. Music criticism in its current fashion does a massive disservice to musicians.
What about the rest of the post-punk revival? Or, as NPR puts it, The Post-Brexit New Wave?
Black Country, New Road
I listened to the debut album from Black Country, New Road, For the First Time a bunch when it came out in February 2021. I loved it at first and enjoyed chatting about phenomenal songs like "Sunglasses" and "Opus" with my friends. The band comprises seven young people, including Lewis Evans on saxophone, May Kershaw plays keyboard and assists with backing vocals and Georgia Ellery on violin. Sometimes, I enjoy BC, NR. Other days, they're unbearably pretentious. I don't know if that says more about me or the band!
Black Midi
A band I still don’t get. There is too much experimental, progressive, and art-rock stuff happening for my liking.
Dry Cleaning
The debut album from Dry Cleaning, New Long Leg, is brilliant. John Parish, a frequent collaborator with PJ Harvey, produced the record. Bass and guitar riffs abound, Florence Shaw has this hypnotic monotonous delivery, and she’s FUNNY! I’ve been listening to New Long Leg for a few months and laughed at “the last thing I looked at in this hand mirror was a human asshole” and “would you choose a dentist with a messy back garden like that? I don’t think so,” yesterday. Great songs that make me chuckle. A+
Fontaines D.C.
I’ve loved this band since I saw them perform “Boys in the Better Land” at some award show in 2019. They have insane energy, and like Flo and Charlie Steen, Grian Chatten has entrancing, dry vocal delivery. Basing his lyrics around growing up in Dublin and poets Jack Kerouac and W.B. Yeats, his spoken-word approach complements the gritty, noisy sounds surrounding him. Both Fontaines D.C. albums, Dogrel and A Hero’s Death, are incredible. They’re great even when they’re performing in the snow!
Goat Girl
One of those bands whose self-titled debut I really loved in 2018! I like their new one, On All Fours, but I reckon that the live renditions show that the studio does them no justice.
Idles
A band that’s famously hit-and-miss with a rabid fanbase. I still haven't heard Brutalism because I'm slack, but Joy as an Act of Resistance is packed with proud fist-in-the-air songs dedicated to working-class Britain. Ultra Mono is decent, albeit very front-loaded and a bit too much virtue-signalling (even for Idles). Their new album, Crawler, released last week, is fantastic. The music is interesting and sometimes broody, even recalling fellow Bristol act Massive Attack at times. Joe Talbot has grown as a vocalist and immeasurably as a songwriter. Highly recommend.
Squid
Squid is at the just-right point of bizarre music. There are post-punk riffs, innovative synth work, nods to Krautrock, and an undeniable “physicality of rock music.” Drummer/singer Ollie Judge summons The Lonesome Crowded West-era Isaac Brock barks and I can’t get enough of his style. Squid is an impressive band with an exciting debut, Bright Green Field, and they’re guaranteed to go far.