Cover Feature Shame, Shame, Shame: that’s the name

It’s November 2017, and five young men are horsing about in an East London studio, dressed in tea towels, bed sheets and a donkey mask, attempting to recreate a scene from the nativity. There are far more empty tinnies around than in your average school play and, last time we checked, none of the Three Wise Men normally went commando, but there’s still something tangibly exciting in the air and the image of the guitarist puffing on a roll-up with a star around his head is one that’s strangely appropriate.

See, back then, when we costumed up Shame to be inducted into DIY’s Class of 2018, it was already pretty obvious that the South London quintet had a twinkle about them that was brighter than most. On the cusp of releasing debut LP ‘Songs of Praise’ and with a burgeoning live following growing by the day (the band had just sold out the 800-capacity Scala), it was clear that their socially-charged blasts of cathartic, yet sneakily melodic punk were starting to seep into a wider world than just the musical hotbed of politically-minded young talents that their Brixton base was home to.

Fast forward 12 months and we’re sat in a different part of East London, dressing the band up in rather nattier garb for another photoshoot just ahead of their last tour of the year, where they’ll headline the city’s 2,300-capacity Forum. That’s almost certain to be a sell out, too. It’s familiar but notably different and though the band are still pissing about, smoking fags and recounting tales of their whirlwind year just the same - “Mac DeMarco came over and shouted ‘SHAME ON YOU’ about 50 times to me in Perth,” recalls guitarist Sean Coyle-Smith as we’re sipping a post-shoot pint - there’s no getting away from the fact that Sean, singer Charlie Steen, bassist Josh Finerty, guitarist Eddie Green and drummer Charlie Forbes have had the kind of year that most new bands dream of. Shame have undoubtedly been the name on more lips than just Mac’s.

It began, as so many years do, with a ridiculous scene in Wetherspoons.