It could be too soon to call this one, but blogs at Seattle Weekly, the Stranger, and the Seattle P-I are reporting that the Crocodile Cafe has suddenly closed, with no warning, for good. I guess I shouldn't be melodramatic about it, but I feel like that's it -- my Seattle is gone.
What do I remember? The sheer joy of seeing Mates of State play (again and again), seeing Iron and Wine before they were huge with opening band the December-somethings (!) before they were huge, U.S.E.'s mega-happy CD release party, watching an awful 2-piece band play one note for 20 minutes at a Kinski show, driving down at 1 am to see Gorky's Zygotic Mynci play two songs and say "aunties in Swansea?" to Sarah, waiting until after midnight for Beulah's set to start, getting a +1 to a secret Death Cab show and not going for some reason (did I ever actually see them there?), peeing next to Nick Barber and thinking oh man I am going to see 3/4s of Poor Old Lu tonight, weeping (and not out of boredom for once) alone at a Pedro the Lion show, feeling proud watching my friends on stage, feeling proud to be on stage, that stage that I thought had always been there, that stage that I thought would always be there.
What do you remember?
3 comments:
What? I didn't even know about this! How sad! I haven't been there a ton of times, but I have gone there to see Rosie Thomas, my friends Josh Ottum (and Brendan Bosworth and Par Andreasson), Cloud Cult, my friend's husband's band Llama, and maybe some others too. Thanks for informing the local Seattlites from across the world, Joel!
there are so many great croc shows, it's insane. the postal service show where my friend heather yelled some sort of sexually explicit gestures out to ben gibbard or the pedro the lion show with jets to brazil. too many to name, but it was one of the few venues in seattle that had great food.
holy crap what a good post, joel. now i really am sad about not playing with you guys at the croc, though i've seen so many shows there i almost forgot that i actually haven't.
highlight was freshman year seeing death cab open for pedro the lion and thinking "who is this death cab for cutie? i think i like them..." but also watching in awe as david bazan sang "hallelujah" (or some other religious word) over and over until the whole hipster filled joint fell into an unexpected sanctified trance.
one thing though: i always hated the decor. what was with the weird floating paper mache? alas, though. it died with respect.
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