If Tammy Faye Bakker (or her post-feminst avatar Jessica Chastain) would proselytize, everyone deserves god's mercy. Extending that credo to Record Club, there's a place for every band.
Monotonix indeed can serve an ideal function. For me, that was accompanying my futile pursuits to unclog my shower drain. I fully immersed myself in all the noise that Tel Aviv had to offer as I plunged with a ferocity usually reserved for demons.
The experience was not enjoyable and neither was the music. I normally have no time for this brashness wherever it originates. However, as I stood naked in my bathroom shower begging for the tiniest bit of light in the drainhole of oblivion, I found solace with Monotonix.
I hope to never have to resort to this album again. But as long as my wife has thick hair, I know Where Were You When It Happened? won't be far away.
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