Shame
Cutthroat
DEAD OCEANS
Here are some lyrics you don’t hear often in 2025: “Big, beautiful, naked women fall out the sky / Motherfucker, I was born to die… They like the boys and the girls / They like having fun with everyone… And why not do what you wanna do?” That, folks, is what you call hedonism, and not kept behind closed doors but rather publicly stated with reckless abandon. It’s more than safe to say that English punks Shame aren’t treating “Cutthroats,” the first song on their new album, like a journal entry but rather an early tell that they’re gonna use the record to speak the truth and hold back on ever holding back. The next track “Cowards Around,” for example, is a blistering takedown of members of Parliament in which they accuse them of mendacity and self-interest, to put it mildly.
Then there’s “Quiet Life,” where vocalist Charlie Steen—who sounds closest to Colin Newman, with Joe Strummer and Mark E. Smith following closely behind—turns inward and gives himself the same withering criticisms he does to seedy social characters and archetypes. “’Round here nothing’s good for me / But I still can’t make the choice to leave… But you know that I won’t go / ’Cause I’m a coward, don’t you know.” Indeed, “coward” is the operative word in this proto-punk throwback band’s fourth studio album, and it’s important to note because most anyone who calls themselves that usually turns out to be a brave person who’s critically examined themselves. In not mincing words and spouting off without lowering himself into Johnny Rotten territory, Steen earns trust with his listeners and proves the authenticity of Cutthroat, even if that term is all too often misconstrued. The record is so real, you can actually hear the spittle shooting out of Steen’s mouth as he sings forcefully and straight from the heart.
While Cutthroat is heavy on the vocals and lyrics, there’s still ample room for infectious grooves that make records by Gang of Four and The Fall timeless. The rhythm section is more bottom-heavy and throbbing, and measured guitar never dominates the mix. The end result is that addictive sound that brash Brits made during the late ’70s and early ’80s. Interpol succeeded in resurrecting it with Turn on the Bright Lights, but eventually lost their way after their debut’s smashing success. That’s the critical difference between them and Shame, who don’t care whether you enjoy them. In a world dominated by AI, grifters, and trolls, this band stands out by proving that truth-telling is still in very high demand, especially among discerning fans of punk rock.
