With Shame, Shame, Dr. Dog returns with more of their infectiously jovial psych-pop, which for the first time in the band’s history sounds like it was meant to be blasted with subwoofers in a car stereo. The Philadelphia-based quintet had been intent on capturing the exuberance and power of their live shows on record, and the 11 song set certainly features production and performances worthy of arena-sized rock concerts. The ratty guitar leads, twinkling piano accents, and Toby Leaman and Scott McMicken’s cathartic wails are louder than ever before, all under a vintage analog sheen that keeps the record incongruent from the band’s less polished back catalog. Thankfully, the level of skillful, hook-laden songwriting from their previous efforts is still intact to provide another thread of continuity. However, it’s the conviction and urgency of the band’s performances that elevates the material to being one of their finest efforts. The takes used for Shame, Shame sound heartfelt and emotive, imbuing the already well-written songs with a strong dose of feeling that makes each lyric, every cymbal crash, every guitar lick all the more convincing. On the title track, Harrison-esque slide guitar punctuates the melancholic crescendo of skittering drums and heavily-reverbed backing vocals, as the band jams out to an emotional climax. Elsewhere, the baroque disco romp of “Later” recalls “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” with less nonsense, while “I Only Wear Blue” begins as a lonely, organ-backed ballad before feedback squeals usher in the rest of the band as the song evolves into a joyous, classic rock-flavored anthem. After five full-length albums, Shame, Shame finds Dr. Dog far from having exhausted their creativity, sounding more passionate and frenzied than ever on what is a lasting testament to their showmanship and remarkably consistent songwriting.