Shame, “Food for Worms.”

The third album from U.K. punk rockers Shame is a product of the band’s own rollercoaster.

The quintet found success with its 2018 full-length debut, before hitting a challenging stretch for 2021 follow-up release Drunk Tank Pink; both among RIFF’s favorite albums from their respective years. Vocalist Charlie Steen had a series of panic attacks that forced the cancelation of the supporting tour. Shame took the time that followed to refocus and deliver on its own promise with Food For Worms.

The new album is a lot less abrasive and more melodic than the 2021 record. Its closer in style to the the 2018 debut. Yet there’s plenty of variety here. The band’s sound is now a kaleidoscope, vaulting effortlessly through punk, punchy garage rock snark and the distorted lo-fi fuzz tones of grunge. Those rough guitar strums open the record on the anthemic track fit for the pub after hours. Steen sings about trying to offer help to a friend who doesn’t want to be helped.

“This time you feel that you’ve been found/ But when you look there’s no one around,” he bellows before the song rips into a blistering guitar solo.

Some songs lean more toward the band’s signature sarcasm, such as on pandemic lockdown anxiety anthem “Six Pack.” The song is accentuated by some excellent guitar work, awash in wah-wah that you can trace all the way back to ’70s.

“Every scratch card is a fucking winner!” Steen shouts.

It’s still tough to pin down Shame from track to track; sometimes the band sounds like the Black Keys or The Clash, with occasional detours to Britpop. It’s a fascinating combination that stands on its own. “Yankee” veers further into ’90s grunge territory. “Alibis” is very much the opposite—an old-school fist-pumping punk rocker that clocks in at just over two and half minutes. The song is aggressive, urgent and one of the heavier moments on the record.

For this record, Shame made a concerted effort to operate less within defined roles and to allow the members to contribute where they saw fit. This means that all five sing at some point on the record. On a track like “Adderall,” Steen takes steps in on bass for Josh Finerty. It’s that sense of unpredictability that adds more fun and life to the record, and you never quite know where things are going next.

A 180-degree shift happens on the breezy, acoustic strums of “Orchid,” which also sees Steen drop to his deepest singing register. The decision was apparently made on the advice of Steen’s vocal coach.

Jumpy anthem “The Fall of Paul” has busy and tight drumming, with more complex patterns in the song’s intro. It’s also a departure from the rest of the record, hoisting a modern industrial-sounding chorus. By taking this tact, Shame brings immediacy to the record.

The band quickly whiplashes back on ballad-like “Burning By Design.” This slow-burner grows in energy from the opening notes up to a full-on wall of sound rocker. Things get even more experimental on “Different Person,” which traverses hard and soft and everything in between. The album concludes with “All the People,” one of the more lo-fi tracks on the record.

Follow writer Mike DeWald at Twitter.com/mike_dewald.