First of all, I’m too old for this shit. That being said, this was a fun show. Whether you take issue with rude/crass behaviour, or whether you take issue with hairy guys in really short Lacoste shorts, Monotonix put on an entertaining set that if you consider yourself a fan of music as a performance art you should really make every effort to see.

This night had a feeling about it from the get-go. Speaking with Uncle Dave, the doorman for the event, and a longtime member of the Moncton night-life scene, he said “This shit is going to get crazy” long before any of the nights three bands took the stage.

First up to start the night was a band whose live performance I’d been sleeping on for a long time. Something Delicious whose record No Fun Intended I reviewed a while back opened up the set with a robot singing, a hospital patient playing trumpet, a hockey player on bass, and an unfortunate closet mishap playing the drums. Their record translates well live, and they’re pretty much the tightest thing since the Tour de France wardrobe department.

Pervert was up next. These guys amaze me. They’re pro. 100%. They know their roles in the band, and it shows onstage. They’re each entertaining to watch in their own way, and it comes across really well. Probably one of my favourite bands to come out in town in a long while.

Which brings us to the Israeli Gears known as Monotonix. Fucking. Ridiculous. Rumour has it they were at the bar earlier in the day signing waiver forms, and finding out where they could and could not go during the show. Which is normally not a big deal. Until you take into account they brought their whole stage set up, minus the guitar amp, with them. I’ve been to a lot of shows at the Manhattan over the years. I’ve only ever seen two other artists hop up on the island in the middle. One was a chick from some shitty rock-a-billy band, and the other was Mark Bragg. That night, I saw a kick drum, and two guys on that island. Then, I saw a full band sitting on a bar. On the bar. With all their gear.
And just when I thought I was safe, and out of the way, they made their way back to the front of the bar and I was surrounded. People everywhere. Sitting, standing, yelling, screaming, spitting, smiling. It was quite a site. Pure chaos to the naked eye, but in the middle of it all, a hairy man of small stature controlling the whole mess. The only thing between him and the mob, the smallest Lacoste soccer shorts I’ve ever seen.

More pics on the flickr!
Review: Joe Doucet
Photos: Matt Carter