Kicking the door wide open with a cheeky, unsubtle nod to Blur’s Boys & Girls, shame’s bright, bouncy riffs on Cutthroat already feel festival ready. Charlie Steen’s performance is laced with Shaun Ryder-level bravado in its strut, and in a year when Britpop nostalgia has roared back, shame are positioning themselves as a band confidently slotting into that lineage with a messy, modern edge.

Cowards Around is a shambolic, sarcastic rant as Charlie Steen rattles off a sprawling list of cowards so excessive it basically covers all of society. Its absurd, cut from the same cloth as Art Brut’s Eddie Argos or Jarvis Cocker, and the sense of unpredictability keeps the record from ever coasting. Songs veer between sweaty garage energy and disco-drenched triumph, with Axis of Evil going all-in with pulsing synths not so far from LCD Soundsystem in its closing sprawl. Cutthroat refuses to choose between rock chaos and pop catchiness, messy in places but always interesting, with a ludicrous and magnetic delivery, and a sense of humour that keeps the whole thing sweaty and fun instead of pompous. Nothing Better is an absolute standout that sounds like the rawer, sweatier ends of the 2000s indie revival with a chorus that takes deadpan futility and turns it into a kind of cathartic rallying cry. They’re heavier and more chaotic than Oasis or Blur, more indebted to punk and art-rock, but they’ve kept the anthemic, witty, everyman spirit that defined the era. Like those mid-90s records, Cutthroat swings between fist-pumping, festival-ready anthems and more reflective, wistful cuts with plenty of sarcastic asides. shame capture the same laddish shrug and blunt simplicity of Britpop in its heyday with stark, basic rock writing that’s brash and direct, taking joy in not overthinking.