Free Energy at Windmill Brixton

“They remind me of Hanson!” shouted my friend and if we were just going on the slight frame of the lead singer then she had a point. Musically though Free Energy, who headlined at a hot and sweaty Windmill in Brixton last night, are worlds away from teen bop.

They properly rock, head banging their long hair in unison, tight vests and jeans almost constricting their exuberant jumps and kicks. They certainly live up to their name. I almost yelled “Turn it up to eleven” when they kicked off with their eponymous song, but was so close (about a foot away) they would have heard me.

After watching the excellent support, the Singing Adams (only their second gig but already definitely worth catching – the lead singer is the former frontman of Broken Family Band) in the middle of the crowd, we found ourselves at the front for Free Energy who arrived with white balloons to party.

The Philadelphia five piece, who are signed to DFA records, play catchy pop rock (three guitars=loud) and they really give it their all. I loved watching them play my favourite track Something in Common especially when the lead singer did that thing where he locked eyes and then smiled a really big smile. They were really having fun on stage and it was genuine.

Free Energy are going places. Until the frontman said:

“Big hello to the babes on the back wall....nice, very nice”.

Er, hello? What about the babes up front?

“He must be longsighted,” said my mate. I concurred. How could he have dissed us honeys at the front?

To be fair, the barnet was looking big. Just how big (and frizzy) I didn’t realise until I clocked myself when I got home. But still, there was no need for such a blatant oversight. The rubbish British weather just doesn’t agree with my mop.  And if anything, it looked quite 70s-ish which fits right in with their 70s rocker look and sound. Harrumph.

Still, the lead guitarist is a man of impeccable taste. As well as sporting a long brown mottled feather on his guitar, he was wearing my trainers (martial arts shoes Feiyue, beloved by Shaolin monks).

After an encore and much appreciation from the rammed crowd (“sweet” was the frontman’s catchphrase of the evening) we emerged from the Windmill sweatbox into the drizzly Brixton night.

We were in a party mood and wanted to carry on for a nightcap. But Brixton is as bad as the rest of London when it comes to after-hours drinking during the week. Mango Landin, The Prince, Hive all shut. The White Horse was open but dead so we finally settled on an Amaretto in The Rest is Noise, open but equally dead.

It goes to show that Brixton needs more Free Energy on Monday nights to keep the party spirit alive.