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Photos by William Kirk; Above: DMBQ

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Best Fwends [Knitting Factory Main Space; 9 p.m.]

The Knitting Factory was smelly art-punk kid central Friday night, as stalwart scene booking agency Panache Booking took over all three floors of the legendary Tribeca venue. The basement space, known as the Old Office, is cramped and claustrophobic even when it's empty; full of people, it's downright nerve-wracking. Photographer William Kirk and I decided to avoid the Old Office for the sake of our own sanity and concentrate on the upper two floors, the Tap Bar and Main Space.

Most of the Panache roster focuses its energy on "Hey kids! Let's put on a show!" pluck rather than actual musicianship, which certainly has its charms. However, taken in large doses, this kind of goofy sloppiness can get exasperating. Take Best Fwends, for example. The Texas duo shout repetitious nonsense over rapid-fire, no-fi synth-pop while attacking the audience with ferocious friendliness. For this set, they were accompanied by two enormous inflatable dragons, which were dragged into the mosh pit during a cover of the Toadies' "I Come From the Water". It was all pretty obnoxious, but it was over so quickly that I didn't have time to become truly annoyed.

Shellshag [Knitting Factory Tap Bar; 9:45 p.m.]

The Lower East Side is currently plastered with advertisements for "Daylight", the new Matt and Kim song sponsored by Mountain Dew. Matt and Kim are a fine band-- lots of spunk and hooks-- but it really makes me wonder: Why them? Why did they break out, rather than any number of other similar bands sprouting from the same DIY scene? Why not, say, Shellshag, who are basically Matt and Kim, just a little bit older? Guy guitarist and girl drummer who play facing each other, sugary pop-punk tunes spit out on ramshackle equipment, sparkplug energy. The drummer wore sleigh bells on a belt around her waist; at one point, she created a song's rhythm merely by jumping up and down. Shellshag started their set with a chant of "Fuck society! Fuck sobriety!" and ended with a cover of Liz Phair's "Fuck and Run".

DMBQ [Knitting Factory Tap Bar; 10:45 p.m.]

Japanese psych-punk institution DMBQ weathered tragedy when a van crash claimed the life of their drummer Mana "China" Nishiura in 2005, but they haven't let that stop their bulldozing live show. The band members took advantage of the Tap Bar's low ceiling by hanging from various rafters and piping; at one point, bassist Ryuichi Watanabe was playing his instrument with one hand while suspending himself from the ceiling from the other. Guitarist Toru Matsui spent a good amount of time holding his guitar up with his teeth (yes, just his teeth), and later broke out a bow to saw at his axe for added prog pomposity.

Lucky Soul [Joe's Pub; 11:30 p.m.]

Seeking a brief respite from the madness at the Knitting Factory, we headed to Joe's Pub. The seated cabaret venue was an ideal setting for Lucky Soul, a London band that plays throwback girl-group indie pop. Joe's Pub's pristine sound and formal atmosphere cradled their ditties in warmth, and I envied all of the couples there on dates, sipping cocktails and bopping along, arm in arm.

Vocalist Ali Howard was suffering from a sore throat, lending her vocals a rough scratchiness. Though she repeatedly apologized, I thought the circumstances made her sound better than ever. Now, songs about heartbreak took on a dramatic urgency, as if Howard was singing through tears. She isn't the most engaging frontwoman, and her shimmying seemed a bit forced, but Lucky Soul's songs were strong enough to pull through nonetheless.

Monotonix [Knitting Factory Main Space; 1 a.m.]

Back to the maelstrom. Monotonix's reputation precedes them; I'd heard accounts of everything from nudity to bodily harm to mass hysteria happening at their notorious live shows and, well, it's all true. The Israeli trio is chaos personified, everything you'd ever want in no-holds-barred punk rock. Everything, that is, except memorable music.

Sure, I will probably remember the sight of whirling dervish frontman Ami Shalev climbing up a pole, humping it, and then climbing the Main Space's balcony like monkey bars, much to the chagrin of the Knitting Factory's security guard. And it will be hard to erase the vision of Shalev hiking up his loose jogging shorts to expose almost all of the terrain of his hairy butt, while an audience member shoves a crutch into his crotch. Or the memory of the finale, when three drum kits-- and three drummers-- were held aloft and passed above the crowd's heads. And hey, maybe the guy who started bleeding profusely from the head will sue everybody into the history books.

But even the morning after, I can't remember any songs Monotonix played. I'm pretty sure they all had one or two chords and there was a lot of chanting and stuff. But how long can they keep this up? The novelty of going to a Monotonix show to get beer spilled all over you and trash dumped over your head is going to wear off pretty quickly. When it's all over, all we're left with is bruises.