Callum Howe writes most of The Shits’ lyrics either hungover or drunk. The distinction matters. Hangover lyrics carry something pathetic, he says — the particular clarity of the morning after, when everything feels both too real and completely unmanageable. Drunk lyrics sort themselves out in the room, sometimes mid-riff, first time through. Either way, the method fits the band: Leeds-via-Newcastle noise-rock that runs on compulsion rather than craft, on the logic of not being able to stop even when stopping is obviously the right call.
“Diet Of Worms,” their second LP on Rocket Recordings, is out April 3. Eight tracks, recorded with James Atkinson at The Stationhouse Recording Studio in Armley, Leeds. Callum walked us through every one of them — and fielded a few questions about the record, the city, and what it means to make something genuinely hostile that’s also genuinely fun to make.
On the title: it’s a play on words first, a historical reference second, and a disgusting image at all times. The Diet of Worms was the 1521 imperial assembly at which Martin Luther was called to recant. Callum is happy to let that hang in the air without committing to it. “Do you feel like the record has something to do with Luther’s theses? A man asked to recant for his heresy?” The title also connects to an older Shits song, which connects to the title track’s lyrics, which connects to a loose thread running through the whole record — one Callum says he could never map out. “Going back to ideas from old songs gives me a sort of greasy, secret feeling.”
The band writes until they have two sides’ worth, records more than they need, then cuts. Nothing gets forced in. “For me usually it takes having to have heard the whole thing in the order we’ve decided on before it has its own character as an LP.”
On the label relationship — this being their second Rocket release after “You’re A Mess” — Callum is unambiguous: “Not even in the slightest. We’re just going to write the songs we want in the way we know. Hopefully we’ll keep managing to pull the wool over their eyes.”
The band gets placed, by people who write about them, somewhere between prime Stooges nihilism and Brainbombs blackout. They also get described as fun. Callum doesn’t find the tension interesting: “Careful making assumptions about which of our feelings on the record are genuine.” He’ll say that hostility is enjoyable to express, but that enjoying it doesn’t feel hostile. Beyond that: “The band is entirely for us, about creating a good time for ourselves and, for me whilst performing, being able to ask (probably pointless) questions about the boundary of representation and embodiment.”
Where they fit in Leeds: “Our band fits in at the top.” Other names worth your time — Natural Causes, Louse, Self-Immolation Music, Tormented Imp, Robber’s Dog, Frisk and Knyf. Rooms that feel right: The Lubber Fiend in Newcastle, Damaged Goods in Leeds.
Track by Track
“In A Hell”
“The feeling of compulsion, not being able to make something stop, or stop doing something, no matter how miserable it makes you.” The lyrics work through abstracted violence — not to glorify it, but to push feelings like shame, guilt, compulsion, and depression to their outermost point. “Framing these things within the worst possible scenario allows you to speak about them at their limit.”
The record is deeply embedded in West Yorkshire geography. Callum drew from David Peace’s Red Riding Quartet, Gordon Burns’ “Somebody’s Husband, Somebody’s Son,” and local details — Michael Taylor, Grange Moor, the Empire cinema in Huddersfield. None of this had interested him before this record. “I specifically wanted ‘Diet Of Worms’ to produce an idea or feeling of West Yorkshire drowning in blood and spit. In A Hell is the headspace it puts me in — ecstasy and self-pity. Sure for the rest of them it’s just a good fun.”
“Tarrare”
Tarrare was a French showman of the 18th century, famous for being able to eat anything and never feeling full. Here he works as an image: the idea that consumption itself is what ruins you — “becoming more and more disgusting/disgusted the more you’re into something.” It’s the only track on the record that steps outside the West Yorkshire geography of the others, though the compulsion thread holds.
“It’s funny watching Henry fight his fucking wah pedal the whole time we’re playing this one. He made his bed when he wrote two different guitar parts for one song.”
“Then You’re Dead”
“Typical Shits methodology on this one, nothing clever going on. Essentially a blues number, old time rock & roll.” A friend showed Callum a photo of his dad with a gun to his head. That became the lyric. Written drunk, first pass through the song, in the practice room in Armley. “Sometimes this bollocks just sorts itself out.”
“Change My Ways”
Likely the first song written after “You’re A Mess” was finished. The subject follows naturally: regret, and getting back to it anyway. “The killing doesn’t stop, the drinking doesn’t stop.” Riffs start with Henry — worked out at home, brought to the room, everyone has a go. “Hopefully the idiots that listen to our records get that ‘Change My Ways’ is a tragic love song.”
“Joyless Satisfaction”
“A bit like drinking until you can’t get anymore drunk. No matter how much more beer goes in the feeling doesn’t get any better, but you don’t stop.” Murder as a metaphor for self-pity. Questions that don’t resolve: how much can you think about something before it changes, and if it changes, does it change for you or just in the abstract, and does it ever really change, or do you just become more comfortable with the fact that it makes you a worse person.
“Diet Of Worms”
Started out faster — in the territory of “Ugly, Worthless” from the previous record. At some point it became clear the riff needed room. Nearly went drumless. “There’s no keeping Geo down.” The lyrics loop back to an old song, which is part of why it ended up as the title track — there’s something satisfying, for Callum, about retracing old steps. “This song is also an opportunity to (see Sam) shine.”
“Thank You For Being A Friend”
Andrew Gold’s “Thank You for Being a Friend” was the song played at the end of the “Wearside Jack” tape — the hoax recording sent by John Humble to Assistant Chief Constable George Oldfield during the Yorkshire Ripper investigation, which sent police down the wrong path for years. The Shits’ version is written from the perspective of the Ripper as Oldfield might have imagined him: “an imagined, more atmospheric version.” Callum grew up in the same village as Oldfield’s final home, or so his dad told him. He and Sam drive the A1 from Newcastle to Leeds for every practice. They sing along to Andrew Gold each time.
“Three O’Clock In The Morning”
The lyrics pick up directly where a song on “You’re A Mess” left off. Callum isn’t naming which one — readers are invited to write in with their guesses. The band is also, apparently, accepting votes on the most handsome member.
The lyric orbits a question about violence and time: “Does the essence of a crime exist in a single moment? If you could stretch out each second of some horrific event would you be able to accurately identify the exact moment murder took place? Maybe it takes time to settle in, during the clean-up. Dropping the hammer, putting the sheets in the wash, getting all that shit off your hands, rinsing your stinking groin and armpits, changing your clothes, leaving the room, leaving the building, getting in the car, smoking a cigarette, driving away.”
“Diet Of Worms” is out April 3 on Rocket Recordings. Digital pre-order via Bandcamp; LP available directly from Rocket Recordings.
Tour Dates:
09 April / UK / Leeds / Brudenell Social Club (w/ Unsane)
16 April / BE / Brussels / Magasin 4
17 April / FR / Besancon / Les Passagers Du Zinc
19 April / CH / Geneva / L’ecurie
20 April / FR / Grenoble / Skatepark Sous Le Pont
22 April / FR / Toulouse / Le Ravelin
23 April / FR / Clermont-Ferrand / Fermenté.e
24 April / FR / Nantes / Blockhaus DY10
25 April / FR / Paris/Montreuil / Le Chinois
12 June / NO / Oslo / Hærverk i Parken
26 September / UK / London / The Windmill
