It might be.
Not sure why we would have called it 'The Garage'.
Have I got the bit about the bar right ? It always stuck in my head because I hate Special Brew and that was all it ever seemed to serve.
Quite a few "Garage Bands" played in the Frontline Theatre (also known as "The Arch"), usually on a Thursday night, as I recall.
Your description of the bar was spot on! We used to take a handtruck to the supermarket and come back laden with cans of beer to sell for £1 a can. Almost thirty years ago now, that gave a reasonable profit; combined with the £1 to get in, we were even able to pay the bands a little at the end of the night.
It wasn't always Special Brew -- I hate the stuff myself -- but our clientele were interested in intoxication at least as much as music and the customer is always right. When they're paying, anyway
The Frontline Theatre was open and providing unlicensed refreshments to the folks on the streets all through the '81 riots. We kept going for years afterwards as well, until the two main guys had a serious falling out ("blood on the walls, teeth on the floor" style falling out) and the arch was recovered by its legal owners.
Yes, it was a squat, an illegal drinking club and venue! The toilets were appalling, health and safety unheard of, and licensing laws were for other people. On the other hand, unlike the local boozers, we never had fights, never needed "help" from the cops, never needed to call an ambulance. Even the fights were non-injurious, even when utterly terrifying.
It's true! One occasion some geezer tried to get heavy and threatening, and make himself topdog with a display of weaponry. Not a smart move. He left the club with the expensive full-length leather coat he was wearing at the time shredded to ribbons, and flapping uselessly on the wind. But without a scratch on his person.
All the same, I suspect his psyche was permanently altered by the ordeal of being on the centre of a circle of knife wielding villains, even if they were just playfully demonstrating to him that he had no chance of playing the hardman in their club. At any rate, when he came back, he behaved himself just like any other regular.
It is often said, to live outside the law one must be honest. My time with the Frontline Theatre convinced me of the truth of that particular aphorism!