Food for Worms, it turns out, is surprisingly tasty.
shame first came onto the scene in 2018 with their sprightly debut Songs of Praise, thus becoming sweethearts of the Brixton Windmill scene alongside bands like Black Midi and Squid. Moving forward, we got Drunk Tank Pink in 2021, which continued the use of these punchy melodies perfect for getting lost in a pit to.
But shame’s third studio record comes at a time where a portion of the modern post-punk sound seems to be turning into something more. Of course, we had Fontaines D.C’s Skinty Fia last year, but more recently we were gifted with Gigi’s Recovery by The Murder Capital too. Such bands have largely been diverging from the shouty, simply boisterous sounds that have been on-trend. Food for Worms works in a similar fashion in many ways.
We got a taste of this variation on the record’s first single ‘Fingers of Steel’, opening with an almost swelling piano. I must admit, I wasn’t hugely hooked by the single at first, but it has been growing on me since the album’s release. The lyrics seem to reflect a sincere affliction over a friend’s depression – many of the tracks tie into these themes of friendship, and the toils that can come with them.
‘Yankees’, at first, summoned up a vibe similar to Chicago rockers Twin Peaks, with its tuneful opening riff. But the instrumentation transforms into something à la Public Image Ltd, with its plucky, constant bassline. Frontman Charlie Steen also has something to say about a toxic relationship: “When you’re down, you bring me down, and that is love, so you say.”
What many seem to be calling the emotional peak of the record, ‘Adderall’ builds on the themes of watching a close one slip away. Like a lot of the tracks here, the band employ hushed, contemplative verses which erupt into emotive, resounding choruses. ‘Burning by Design’ is very much the same.
My personal favourite moment on the record, ‘Orchid’ is a beautiful track. We get a combination of Nick Drake style acoustics with Steen actually singing for what feels like the first time in shame’s discography. At times, it’s a track that you could imagine dancing in a ballroom to.
In contrast, ‘Different Person’ is driven by a bassline that wouldn’t feel out of place on a Funkadelic record, the guitar riff is hypnotic and the dynamics keep you on your toes.
Food for Worms’ closing track, ‘All The People’, perhaps doesn’t hit as hard instrumentally as other moments on the record, but it rounds off the principal themes well. ‘All the people that you’re gonna meet, Don’t you throw it all away, Because you can’t love yourself’ – Steen’s reassuring lyrics give the end of the record a bittersweet note, as do the band’s moving vocals.
All this doesn’t mean there isn’t something for the harder post-punk purists. In track two we’re blasted by wah-wahs on ‘Six-Pack’, perhaps the heaviest track on the record. Its raucous nature will likely please the crazies finding themselves in the middle of a pit, and the track’s a lot of fun.
‘Alibis’ stood out to me. The rhythm guitar riff holds the same panic-inducing nature as that of ‘Sunglasses’ by fellow ‘Windmillers’ Black Country, New Road. In fact, the similarity is pretty hard to ignore. But this doesn’t hurt the track; I think it’s still undeniably ‘shame’ through Steen’s booming register and the sharp dynamics.
Track seven, ‘The Fall of Paul’, draws the listener almost into a sense of doom. It’s rhythmically hectic and the drumming, in typical shame fashion, is incredibly tight. Tracks like this or ‘Alibis’ hark greatly back to the aggressively zealous nature of the band’s previous work, and they work well alongside the record’s more introspective numbers.
For a record that I had some initial scepticism about, I found myself genuinely enjoying Food for Worms’ different flavours. A band somewhat known for having built a ferocious sounding discography, we can see shame becoming more sensitive and pensive in their lyricism and its delivery.
Rating: 8/10
