SHAME RELEASE NEW ALBUM ‘CUTTHROAT’ – A BOISTEROUS AND UNCOMPROMISING RETURN

ALBUM REVIEW | SHAME – CUTTHROAT by Tom Whittleton

Shame exploded into the musical consciousness in 2018 with the release of ‘Songs of Praise‘. An album that condensed the booming South London sound into a 10-track call to arms in that deep, dark era of consecutive Conservative prime ministers, job centre appointments, and a growing feeling that if any band was going to “make it,” then Brixton and the Windmill would be the source.

The band toured relentlessly in support of the album, becoming one of those live acts that you have to see to believe, restoring your faith in the power of punk and its various forms, including post-punk, proto-punk, and new wave. The band followed up Songs of Praise with 2021’s Drunk Tank Pink, a viciously introspective album reflecting an era spent indoors, waiting for the great plague to end so that everyone could mosh in unison again. 2023’s Food for Worms continued the trend of introspective melodies and all-out noise. Written in the span of just 3 weeks, it was an urgent and of-the-moment release.

After a 2-year break between album releases, Shame have returned with Cutthroat – an appropriate title for a completely uncompromising album. Combining elements of their past and condensing what made them great into a new, polished body of work, Cutthroat demands your attention. It’s a band having fun with the form, taking nothing seriously but everything with the utmost importance at the same time.

The title track and first single, ‘Cutthroat’, is a serious explosion of sexually charged attitude. There’s no light lull into the album; it’s straight down and dirty and exactly what you want from a band who are known for massive bass tones and catchy guitar melodies.

In what might be the most ridiculously tongue-in-cheek opening lyric of any album in recent memory, frontman Charlie Steen announces Shame’s re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere with the line: “Big beautiful naked women fall out the sky, motherfucker, I was born to die,” which vividly sets the tone for the album to come. The album offers a hedonistic romp through the psyche of a band that is ready to throw caution to the wind and embrace everything or walk away with nothing. Heavy co-guitar lines between Eddie Green and Shaun Coyle Smith transpose the lyrical excess into maximum fuzz force. The rhythm section, known for being one of the tightest across the genre, supports Josh Finerty, the often-seen vertically back-flipping bass player, and the drums.pounds the drums.

Shame has brought you into the world of ‘Cutthroat’; it only gets better from here.

With a snare roll into ‘Cowards Around’, the song takes aim and fires at those whom the band deems to be at fault in our increasingly failing society. “Cowards are people who live in places I’ve never been, cowards are the presenters who who live on TV, and cowards are people who drink protein shakes.” With their trademark attitude, the band targets both the gym lads and corrupt Tav presenters in one guitar-screeching swoop. The chorus is a pure fuzz and drum thump repetition of the song’s title,, “Cowards around, cower around,”” and Steen’s performance is filled with an unhinged, below-surface rage.

“Cowards are politicians and criminals; cowards are gelled-hair real estate agents; cowards are people who got a degree; cowards are people who like me.” With self-deprecation and another dose of political aggression,, the list of cowards continues to surprise and entertain the listener. A break in the full frontal attack is replaced by that returning snare drum roll,, with each member’s instrument returning to the mix like a pulled-back sucker punch before the final blow.

The next track,, ‘Quiet Life’,, is a twangy, country-teasers-inspiredd walk through Steen’s mental state. A country-style bass line from Finerty guides the rolling drums and guitar chords into a catchy, jumpy, anxiety-strained call-out against someone – or the state of the nation as a whole – that has driven the vocalist in search of a quiet life away from it all. “Where I was born and raised, watchingg concrete in the rain, I never thought I’d want a quiet life till you came my way; I never thought I’d need to get away.” This track possesses a level of introspective beauty; it is vulnerable in a way that contrasts heavily with the first two tracks. The pressures of being a musician and the repeated motif of cowardice—”I’m a coward,” don’t you know—add another layer of self-doubt.

Does Steen consider himself one of the cowards around?

That’s enough time for introspection.. ‘Nothing Better’ is next, and it’s a call-back to that first album: raw young man aggression found on Songs of Praise and an all-out thrasher of built-up tension and noise. Stylish aggression and Viagra Boys-level world-building of after-party chatters, conspiracy theories and that bloke who just won’t leave your house. It’s expensive pints soundtracked by a car chase getaway in a Robin Reliant. It’s Shame’s career collected and refined into a song worthy to be considered the best in their career. A personal favourite from the album that makes me want to kick a hole in my wall, put my favourite jacket on and go absolutely mental in the in the front row at a gig. ‘Nothing Better’ hearkens back to that golden age of new post-punk where a few times a month the best in a wave of bands would roll through your town and you’d get soaked in the clever lyrics and throw your body around the pit riffage.

‘Plaster’ is a dark, bass-heavy drawl with added electronic elements from a synthesiser. A bittersweet verse builds into a crashing chorus: “You know that, baby, you were born to break, so while you look this good,, you might as well take what you want when you want to.” The theme of vulnerability returns in a pained rant at a former lover or even self-internalised disappointment. It’s a breakup song for the modern era. The synthy guitars are a real highlight with shoegaze elements from that late 90s slacker style. I find this one of the tracks I am coming back to the most.

The next track, ‘Spartak’, lets the album get to pop song writing, but this this is in no way an insult to the songcraft of Shame. There’s an 80s indie jangle to the track with touches of piano in the chorus. Steen tells the story of leaving a lover’s bed in the early morning “with those sunken eyes of scorn”. As the halfway point in the album ‘Spartak’ feels like the band are taking sections of the previous tracks” style and attitude to form a real cohesive theme for the piece.

On a surface level the bravado and all-out rush of the tracks form the opinion of a band taking on the world with a unique brand of cynical comedy. But beneath that, Steen and the lads are showcasing snapshots of modern life and relationships in an open and self-reflective way.

Completely out of left field,, Lampiao’ is the story of a Brazilian bandit in the early 20th century who waged a guerrilla war against a paramilitary government force.

Yes, I am not making this up. Shame has included a folk story in the middle of an album. The album features a Brazilian funk intro that is sung in Portuguese. Steen then tells the life story of the bandit until his death by execution. It’s a genuinely fun and interesting moment on the album, so much so that I have just read the whole of his Wikipedia page out of curiosity. Musically, the track takes inspiration from Latin Soul and mixes it with urgent punk guitars.

After that brief interlude into Latin American history, Shame continue the album with ‘Afterparty’, an upbeat indie-sleaze-inspired banger that would have been perfectly comfortable in the party scene of early 2000s New York. There are elements of modern NY acts such as The Dare and Geese. The electronic experiments earlier in the album come into full swing here, with a repeated synth line, keys, and a James Murphy LCD cowbell.

It’s a fun track that keeps your head moving in a daze of sly in-jokes around music scene culture. “Didn’t you know that after the show there’s an afterparty?” It’s a tune for those late,, late nights in those dark,, dingy places you wouldn’t want your Nan knowing that you attend. But like with all great afters,, there is an inevitable come down; the music shifts into an almost simplistic nursery rhyme: “You always tried to tell me that it comes around,, but I’m not sure if what I want can be found.” It’s like a music translation of that moment when you really should book a taxi.

The highlight of the album’s last quarter is the final track, ‘Axis of Evil’,, an electronic dismantling of the powers that be. It’s a dismantling of Trump populism to a dance beat. Its lyricism reaches its most cynical. “You want toto be the man, you want toto be the king in coats and signet rings;; you want it all,, you need it all,” a venomous dissection of the political elite. Going as far as to mention the “hired love” of our elites” dirty little secrets. Steen’s voice is like a pointing finger at their hypocrisy. “You get away with whatever do because no one knows better than you.” It’s a political take down to the sloganeering, using memorable lyrics to reduce “the big men” to little boys. Cutthroat ends in a wall of electronica and synth explosions, a perfect finale for a truly memorable album.

Shame continues to hold their status as one of the most important bands in modern Britain. Cutthroat exceeds the successes of the band’s previous work and takes us all on a journey into the weird and wonderful world of a band reaching a creative peak. It’s an analysis of the micro and the macro; cutting self-reflection contrasts a politically intelligent edge that will see Shame charge on into the future.

Cutthroat is out now, the perfect accompaniment to your weekend excesses.