TAIPEI (Taiwan News) — London post-punk band Shame will bring a riot of musical mayhem to Taipei's The Wall on April 21, with onstage antics that often include shaking, screeching guitars, and a stripping frontman who may end the show in golden underpants.
It is odd that a band known for such flamboyance and effusive energy was never supposed to make it big. Formed in a rehearsal space above the Queen's Head Pub in Brixton, secured by drummer Charlie Forbes' father, the group initially struggled even with its name.
After a lengthy debate, it was Forbes' father who suggested Shame — a name the band initially resisted but ultimately could not shake. He did not just name them; he bankrolled their first demos and later appeared on the cover of their second album, "Drunk Tank Pink."
With such an involved parental figure, few expected the band to gain serious traction. In 2018, The Guardian dubbed them "Britain's most exciting new band," and critical acclaim has followed ever since.
Simon Forbes' face appeared on the cover of the 2021 release "Drunk Tank Pink." NME later praised their latest album, "Cutthroat," as proof of their ability to evolve without losing their edge.

But Shame's reputation has been forged onstage — not just through sound, but spectacle. Their live shows are sweaty, unpredictable, and often confrontational.
Shirts and trousers rarely survive intact, and frontman Charlie Steen has built a name for himself as a performer who pushes physical and emotional limits. In a now-infamous studio session for KEXP, Steen poured hot coffee over himself mid-performance.
During an appearance on "Later with Jools Holland," he ended a rendition of "One Rizla" shirtless, hoisting his microphone stand across his shoulders in a pose that blurred the line between theatrical and unhinged.
The band leans into the absurdity. The irony is not lost on them; it’s part of the act.
The opening track of "Cutthroat" parodies the leather-jacket-clad, womanizing, drug-addled musicians who came before them. Instead, the band positioned itself as anti-establishment post-punks, drawing inspiration from groups like The Fall and citing Fat White Family.
While Shame introduced itself to the world as an anti-rock band, that identity has evolved. By the time "Food for Worms" arrived in 2023, the group was exploring more introspective territory, reflecting on long-standing friendships and the transition from schoolmates to professional musicians.
The record revealed a softer, more human side without sacrificing intensity. Their latest album, "Cutthroat," marks another shift.
Produced by John Congleton, known for his work with St. Vincent and Alvvays, the album adds a polished sheen while expanding the band's sonic palette. The title track leans into themes of partying and excess, but the broader record resists straightforward categorization, weaving in elements of country, electroclash, and modern Britpop.
At its core, "Cutthroat" is about refusing to be boxed in, a statement of intent from a band still determined to defy expectations.
The album's release also carries a note of sadness. Charlie Forbes' father, the man who helped launch the band, died while on holiday in Thailand in March.
In a Facebook post, Forbes wrote, "This man created shame. This band simply would not exist without him… it is impossible to understate quite how integral this man was in creating just the right conditions for our band to flourish."
It is a reminder that behind the chaos and bravado lies a deeply personal history.

The band's upcoming Taipei performance is the work of local promoter Shawn Hsu (許瀧尹) of Slow Gush Promotions, who first encountered Shame during a live show in the US.
For Hsu, the appeal goes beyond spectacle, helping reshape Taiwan's music landscape, particularly in the wake of COVID, which limited access to international acts.
"During the pandemic, Taiwan lost a lot of chances to see great international artists," Hsu said. "Afterward, many promoters have been trying to rebuild that connection and make the scene more diverse again."
Bringing bands like Shame to Taiwan can have a ripple effect.
"When people get to see different kinds of artists live, it can be really inspiring. It changes how they think about music, performance, and what kind of band they want to become."
As for whether Taipei audiences are ready for Shame's particular brand of chaos, Hsu is confident.
"Maybe for some people in Europe, Asia can feel more conservative, but Taiwan is not really like that. Audiences here are very open, especially when a band is fully committed and has its personality on stage."
And Shame has that in abundance.
"They're not just a noisy band. There's emotion, tension, humor, and vulnerability in what they do. They can be aggressive, but they also feel very human."
Hsu also pointed to a deeper resonance, suggesting that the band's themes may strike a chord with Taiwanese audiences.
"When I think about Ireland and the UK, and Taiwan and China, there are shared feelings and historical echoes," he said. "That's part of why bringing Shame to Taipei feels meaningful."
"I think Taipei is ready for Shame," Hsu said. "And honestly, I'm also really looking forward to the gold underpants."
Whatever happens onstage, one thing seems certain: it will not be boring.





