Shame Wanted The Dirt, The Sweat, The Blood—Shame Wanted The Punk. Thoughts+Photos: shame at This Ain't No Picnic 8/28/22
LOS ANGELES, CA-
‘”… “You are really going to want to check out Shame,” my editor told me. “They put on a hell of a show.” Well… he wasn’t wrong. “MAKE SOME FUCKING NOISE!” Shame’s lead singer, Charlie Steen, yelled out over the crowd as the show began.
The post-punk band stands musically on the shoulders of its British punk ancestors, while still respecting the lineage of the American punk culture it finds itself in LA. “We figured the main thing Americans yell out during a show is ‘LET’S GO!’” said Sheen. “But our buddy said that was bullshit. We made a bet that he had to buy us a beer for every ‘let’s go’ we hear.” Pausing a moment he yelled, “SO LET’S HEAR A ‘LET’S GOOOOO!!!’” Shame’s band members are nothing if not unique in and of themselves. Sheen has an uncanny ability to make you think he is talking and singing only to you throughout the performance. The guitarists in the back range from the kind that runs around and thrash like a hardcore puppy, to the kind that tends towards a self-containment that speaks of some marinating deep intensity that could erupt at any moment. The drummer is utter perfection—like every drummer tasked with building the foundation of a band.
Shame loved its crowd and regularly ventured into it as they played—crowd surfing, moshing, and even tasking the crowd to hold them up at the ankles as they towered above them. At one point Sheen took his hand and swirled it round and round, turning up the mosh pit like a baker with bread. Shame wanted the dirt, the sweat, the blood—Shame wanted the punk…”
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