On Friday evening, I rushed home from work, loaded my charged battery into my camera, packed my gear, and jumped into an Uber heading to the First Unitarian Church.  The Uber hadn’t even hit Callowhill St. when I realized I’d forgotten something crucial–my fucking memory card.  UGHHHHHHHH, I groaned.  Considering how busy my life has become in the last several weeks, something was bound to get missed, but I didn’t expect it to be this.  

What are my options? I thought as my Uber driver turned onto the Vine St. Expressway.  No camera store would be open at 8 pm, and with the closest Staples being near City Hall, I figured I’d take this as a sign from The Universe that I was meant to attend the show without shooting it.  Think of it as a “night off,” I said to myself, you’ll actually get to enjoy the whole show for once.  The decision was made–I’d be a mere observer this evening.  With my hands now free, I stopped at a market to grab a beer before heading down the stairs leading to the lower level of “The Church” for my first show of 2026 (also, as someone who grew up Catholic, the irony of seeing a band called “shame” play in the basement of a church was not lost on me).

Listen, I love being a music photographer, but after a run of shows towards the end of 2025 for which I was shooting and writing, it felt nice to stand in anonymity and survey the crowd before the show.  “Hey, man!  Happy New Year!” I heard someone exclaim after being tapped on the shoulder.  Off to the side, a group of friends discussed the Eagles’ recent season, commiserating with one another over a six-pack of Surfsides.  With such heavy energy hanging over our country and our city, we all enjoyed a brief reprieve from the sadness and anger to catch up with one another and to watch, in the words of lead vocalist Charlie Steen, five “pale English boys” rock the fuck out.

Shame, shame, shame

Shame’s stop in Philadelphia was just the second date on their current North American tour in support of their fourth LP, September 2025’s Cutthroat.  Cutthroat is an enthralling, no-skips record that finds shame stretching beyond their post-punk foundation, folding in new sounds without ever losing their bite.  I was super excited to hear these songs live, and the band did not disappoint.  From the moment shame took the stage and launched into “Axis of Evil,” I was glad I didn’t have to worry about my camera. 

There’s something special about shame’s live performance–not just because their sound feels so fresh, but because the band taps into an energy I rarely see from U.S.-based acts.  The 17-song set was a sweat-soaked, full-throttle explosion of noise and energy led by frontman Charlie Steen (who performed shirtless, but appropriately wore a clerical collar around his neck), who growls into his microphone with an unmistakable British accent, delivering vocals in a staccato nature that hearkens back to punk greats Johnny Rotten and Joe Strummer.  Another standout was bassist Josh Finerty, who bounced around the stage like he was on a trampoline for what seemed like the entire set. The rest of the band acted like support pillars, shredding their instruments and serving as bookends framing these two balls of energy. The crowd matched the energy of the band–everyone was a sea of movement from start to finish.

The band (Steen, Finerty, Sean Coyle-Smith and Eddie Green on guitar, and Charlie Forbes on drums) have known each other for most of their lives; they began writing material for what would become their debut album as teenagers.  That kind of closeness doesn’t just stay between the five of them; it shows up as an unmistakable onstage synergy that radiates outward and electrifies the crowd.  And while it’s obvious the group loves the absolutely feral reaction to their music, they extend the care and respect towards one another to their audience.

“You motherfuckers okay?” Steen asked the crowd after the band finished their song, “Six Pack.”   “We know you’re doing it anyway, but make sure you’re looking out for one another.  Make sure everyone’s safe.  That’s how we have a fucking good time.”

That care for their brethren goes hand in hand with shame’s music–which tackles issues in society ranging from cowardly public figures to the wealthy’s obsession with material possessions to our collective fixation on social media and doomscrolling.  The power of their musical compositions lies in shame’s ability to strike a balance between pointed social commentary and giving people a space to momentarily escape the darkness of the world.  There was an unspoken bond between artist and audience–“we’re one of you, and you’re one of us”–and I believe that bond was a major reason why the crowd was completely locked-in on Friday night.  Observing from the back of the venue later in their set, I saw a bunch of dark heads–not a wall of people watching through their iPhone screens.  

There was, of course, no way not to explicitly address what is currently happening in the world, and when Steen finally made an announcement, it was met with one of the loudest receptions of the night.

“Well, we know there’s so much bullshit going on in the world at the moment,” he said, “and we fucking know how important it is to speak about it and be talking about it.  Everywhere we fucking go, we’ve been saying the same thing, which is Free Palestine!  And I think we can add on, Fuck ICE!”

If there was one show to forget my memory card for, it was this one.  The perfect reminder that music, when made with intention like that of shame’s, can be “the great unifier” while still managing to call out inequities.  Perhaps it was intervention from The Universe, knowing that I was starting to “lose the plot” a bit, that I needed to be reminded of what a rock concert was like back when I fell in love with them.  My challenge for you, dear reader, is to try and put the phone down for your next concert–you may be surprised what you discover.

Setlist

Axis of Evil
Nothing Better
Cowards Around
Concrete
Tasteless
Fingers of Steel
Six Pack
Alphabet
Quiet Life
Spartak
Lampião
Born in Luton
Adderall
Water in the Well
Snow Day
One Rizla
Cutthroat