14 photos of Shame's sweaty intimate set at Brixton Windmill, 23/1/17

Brixton Windmill is a second home for South London's Shame and they kicked off indie venue week in style last night.

The band are like an amalgamation of a lot of great huge and underground London bands over the years. Their singer is like a young Johnny Rotten whilst the guitars go further than the simplicity of quintessential '77 punk as they introduce scintillating lead arpeggios that could fit into a cleaner sounding band like Childhood or The Libertines.

At times they take on that sludgy warped psychedelic waltz that fellow South Londoners Phobophobes do so well. The structure of the band's music works brilliantly, too. The ebbs and flows in energy ensure some insane blasts cause mini whirlpools in the mosh pit.

The crowd couldn't have taken better to it; it was everything you want a small, loud punk rock 'n' roll gig to be. One guy even had a leather boot to the head, drawing blood - didn't matter - he just carried on having the time of his life. 

The crowd stumbled out after with their sweaty bodies quite literally steaming like a kettle in reaction to the cold January air. The fans, most of whom in their early twenties, late teens, muttered to each other: "that. was.. so... worth... it!"

This band in 12 months time are very likely to be selling out Brixton Academy. Not much can get in their way - they'll run through fire -.as they strive to get to the top.