The Garage has just reopened after undergoing a fairly extensive refurbishment. After spending so much on the modernisation, it seemed rather odd that they booked in the band most likely to trash the place. Hailing from Tel Aviv (and rumoured to be banned from playing any of its venues), Monotonix are an act that puts on quite a show. They forsake the stage completely and set up their gear a few feet in front of it. They are all dressed only in the tiniest shorts I have ever witnessed. What ensues is utter chaos. Within the first five minutes we have a singer playing a floor tom whilst crowdsurfing, a guitarist climbing the walls and a drummer covered in beer – and this is just them getting warmed up.The music consists of some fairly heavy rock jams with the odd song thrown in for good measure, but the music really does come second to the theatrics, raw energy and crowd participation. Members of the audience are now holding the bass drum up in the air, with the singer standing atop of it, screaming at and mooning the audience (gives a whole new meaning to the Gaza strip). I’ve lost sight of the guitarist completely. The drummer looks about to drown in his own sweat. A photographer tries to get a close up of the singer. He beckons him closer and then spits on the camera lens. I’ve spotted the guitarist. He’s behind the bar! Suddenly an hour has passed, the music stops and normality is resumed. I leave exhausted, smiling and covered in sweat and beer.
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