I've seen a lot of strange things at concerts. I've done a lot of strange things at concerts. I've smelled strange smells and tasted strange tastes. I've seen a deathcore band cover "Since U Been Gone." I've seen a large drunk man perform fully nude. I've seen it all.
Or so I thought.
It was in Omaha, or Benson, if you want to be precise. It was at The Waiting Room Lounge. There were four of us: the cowboy, the Jerseyite, the redhead and me. There were 50 other people there. And the bands.
The bands were Monotonix (Tel Aviv, Israel's craziest rock band) and Nashville's greatest alternative country rock group, Silver Jews. Silver Jews were headlining, but actually, that's not the band that stands out in my mind.
Here's how it goes.
We ate some pizza just down the street from the Waiting Room before the show started, and while we were there, two obscenely hairy men in blouses and short shorts that said Washington on the butt walked in and ordered. That was the first we saw of Monotonix. The redhead got really giddy.
We headed over to the Waiting Room and watched the end of the presidential debate while the band members ate their pizza. We could tell something was going on when we saw where the band had set up - the middle of the floor.
When they finally came out, wearing pink leisure suits, "perverted housewife" jackets and flowery blouses, I got ready. There was a drone, then, from under one of the two giant mustaches came the words, "Hello America! we are Monotonix!"
From then on, there was no end to the noise and craziness. The whole show was like one long garage rock epic, as the band never allowed themselves the time to stop.
The singer threw beer everywhere: on himself, the drummer, the audience - everywhere. The guitarist refused to stand still, and was usually out of sight in the audience somewhere. When he wasn't, he was either on top of a table or an amp or the stage looking like a god of rock. The drummer was the most tortured of the members. The singer kept stealing his equipment and moving it, forcing the drummer to keep up. The drummer got beat up, had a beat played on him and then had a full, steaming trash can emptied over his head. The singer then used the trash can as a platform and had the audience lift him up in it.
The band would not stop moving. The show covered almost every square inch of the Waiting Room.
And then the band members took it outside.
The singer grabbed the snare and made the drummer follow him into the lobby, through the door and out into the street. The drummer soloed for a few minutes. Then the singer bolted for the nearest traffic signal, and climbed it.
The whole show kind of blurs into epic party in my mind. At the end, after the drum and singer were lit on fire, I smelled like stale beer, smoke and Israel.
Long live Tel Aviv.
Wait! I almost forgot! Silver Jews were there, too.
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