It’s been a long wait for live music but shame’s first time playing in Milton Keynes brought a tiny bit of normality with it

You’re probably tired of hearing about gigs making their long-awaited return and, sorry, but I’m no different. 

First and foremost, it’s been a while since I’d stepped into my local venue and walking back into The Craufurd Arms after God knows how long apart felt surreal. It felt like a hug from a friend you haven’t seen in a long time or a reunion with a lover after too long apart. Nothing beats that. 

Over the months I hastily drove past the venue one too many times — it’s tough being away from your local, but even worse when you have to drive past it constantly too. Stepping inside it again felt like bliss.

There are no words to describe how it felt to be sitting outside and nursing a beer with a friend I’d only just met — one whom I met via the power of the internet (thank you, Twitter. And hi, Katie) — and seeing the band go back and forth between the stage and the rooftop, knowing this sight all too well.

I never thought I, an introverted and very awkward individual, would be saying this but it felt nice to finally socialise with people again. It felt nice to say ‘hi’ to a band again and to have that exciting feeling when you know the performance is getting closer.

Once we were finally allowed to enter, shame took their time to follow. If ever an award for the slowest band was created, they’d win it in a heartbeat.

That familiar image of the lights dimming and the side door opening, shining light on the back of the band as if they were entering from another world (a world sans pandemic, perhaps) took shape and soon frontman Charlie Steen had begun his kooky dance in front of the audience.

Their set starts off with 2021’s second album Drunk Tank Pink opener Alphabet, a song that works just as well to start off the show. It’s a humid day; classic British weather making the inside of The Craufurd Arms a sweat fest for Steen — but something a punk band of shame’s stature are probably quite used to by now.

Breaking into the next track 6/1, I’m left impressed by the band’s energy, especially when it comes to an abrupt end and they snap straight into their 2018 hit Concrete — the first song of theirs I’d heard. It took me a while to get into shame I’ll admit, and hearing this particular track live feels special; I think I’ll be listening to a lot more of them after this.

Concrete doesn’t last long as it blends into Born In Luton — a place that, of course, isn’t far from Milton Keynes so feels homely and familiar. By this time, they’ve caught my attention well and truly. I noticed they’d managed to get the whole room rocking side to side, a weird-but-new-normal in the age of Covid and a socially distanced show.

The next track, Nigel Hitter, has frontman Steen returning to his chicken-like head-rocking, his stage presence mesmerising as bassist Josh Finerty goes wild behind him. Heading straight into Tasteless from debut album Songs of Praise, Charlie hurls the line “I like you better when you’re not around” at the crowd and earns the support of the audience’s vocals along with it.

Water in the Well follows suit, possibly a favourite of mine from the album released earlier this year. Most — if not all — of shame’s songs are full of unbolstered swagger but there’s something about this one that puts it above the rest. It’s the one that shows off the sheer writing excellence and pure talent of the band and that’s it, it’s inexplicably brilliant.

They stop for a moment, possibly to gather their breaths — it wouldn’t surprise me — and Charlie announces it’s the first time they’ve played here, referring to Milton Keynes as the “Hollywood of the UK”. I’ll have to disagree with him there… actually, maybe he’s onto something. We do have concrete cows.

The instrumental intro of Snow Day fills the venue’s 250 capacity room, leaving shivers down my spine and I see why so many people love this track as it reaches its apex, akin to a rollercoaster ride. Similarly titled and perhaps a sequel of sorts, they drift into March Day, the energy levels still very much maxed out.

Although still showcasing that similar shame attitude, March Day is a far more personal song and refers to Charlie Steen’s ‘womb’, aka a small box room Charlie painted pink and lived in for a while. Managing to hold onto the fast-paced in-your-face sonic signatures, the lyrics are a step away from the usual and are very well-received by the whole audience.

The Lick, another track from 2018’s Songs of Praise, makes for an impressively slick song live — it has a repetition to it, perhaps a play on the track’s lyrics, but it works. Encompassing multiple different styles, it shows off the extent of shame’s diverse sound.

Now well into the second half of the show, the half that usually I’d be a bit bored by and eying the exit, we’re treated to Dust on Trial, a track that wouldn’t feel out of place on Kerrang! but, then again, that doesn’t sound complimentary. Basically, it’s a little rocky, a little metal-y and is the perfect track for the goth-esque Craufurd, a venue known to locals as the place for “emos” or, as I’ve heard previously, “weirdos”.

Harsh Degrees, a suitably heavy track, continues shame’s efforts, building up to their most popular (and most-streamed) track One Rizla.

To die-hard shame fans it might seem ‘basic’ but I really do believe One Rizla is one of their best and maybe even my favourite track. I’m sorry, it’s addictive. I mean, for a start the lyrics “I’m not much to look at and I ain’t much to hear, but if you think I love you, you’ve got the wrong idea” were all I needed to hear after I broke up with my ex — like, I had it on repeat constantly. It’s an anti-love song that’s coiled with self-deprecating comments, how could I not love it?

Finishing off, they glide smoothly into Station Wagon, a track that starts off slower than the majority of their discography. Something that, in my opinion, is a breath of fresh air. It starts to build up to something mega; of course, it’s shame, they love a crescendo as much as the next guy. Breaking into a fury of rage and ultimately passion, they tear the stage apart and leave me wondering how on earth they’re going to repeat that all over again within an hour.

I didn’t know what to expect before seeing shame live; I hadn’t properly listened to Drunk Tank Pink and I couldn’t name you five of their songs before (even if you paid me). All I can say is: go and see shame live, who cares if you can’t tell apart their songs or don’t know your Charley Forbes from your Charlie Steen, or have no clue who their newest addition is. There’s no harm in enjoying yourself; you don’t need to know everything. Sometimes going in blind works out.

They bring their all as you’d expect from a band who have sounded momentously loud and hungry on everything they’ve released since the very beginning; a band not afraid to tear apart their own flaws in front of you or have a chinwag afterwards as if they’ve known you for years.

A true band of the people, a band who will make you feel at ease if it’s your first time, and a band you’ll want to see time and time and again.

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