I’ve got the Croc hanging from my desk wall right now. No, really—former staffers were selling Xeroxed copies of the Crocodile Cafe’s floor plan in small ($1) and large ($5) sizes at last night’s Unscrew the Crocodile Employees benefit concert at Chop Suey, so I splurged. It’s kind of eerie to look at—I can’t help but mentally fill in the black-and-white outlines with green walls, curtains, stools, dark red rooms, posters, the passers-by on Blanchard through the glass wall…

Thankfully, last night distracted me from such melancholy nostalgia, which I assume was a bigger “benefit” than any of the cash raised. Not that there weren’t a shit-ton of people paying $10 a pop to watch a lot of good bands—add raffle and floor plan sales, and you’ve got a few unemployed people buying a lot of champagne tonight. But it seems like the cheers, the crowd and the rock will last longer than the former staffers’ impending New Year’s Day headaches.

Full disclosure: I arrived late and left early, was feeling sick, whatever. Still caught plenty. I entered just in time for Pleasureboaters (who I could only watch after wiping a burst of fog off my glasses, as the place was packed). Goodness:

Thoughts on their four-song blazer of a set: if The Rapture were anarchic and relevant, with a hint of X-Ray Spex’ danceable disregard for all musical normalcy. And the above clip kicks off with the band blaming Courtney Love for the Croc’s demise—nice touch. For now, at least, I’m in love.

Soon after, I realized my camera’s batteries, like my stomach, were on their last legs, so I turned it off for Triumph of Lethargy’s disaster of a set. No matter that this stripped-down band claims members of Murder City Devils and PGMG, among others; the band’s demand for “reverb maxed out on everything, even the drums” was obliged by famed Croc’ian Jim Anderson, and the result stacked an overwhelming rumble atop an already shaky set. Hey, don’t blame Jim.

I managed to get two more video clips before both my camera and my gut were done for the night: The Long Winters’ two-song set was good while it lasted, with early drummer Michael Schorr filling in, no less. “Mark Arm couldn’t make it,” John Roderick joked, thus proudly taking the title of “crustiest band” of the night.

And Damien Jurado’s solo three-song set came and went with little fanfare, aside from a song on which David Bazan joined on drums. Until that song, though, the crowd couldn’t be so kind as to shut the fuck up, even while Jurado unveiled the song below. I can’t figure out if it’s a cover or a brand-new one, so if someone can make sense of it through the audience murmuring, please post. Either way, it’s obvious who Jurado was dedicating this song to: “It’s easy to land, but it is harder to fall.”