“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to work here.” Those
words—allegedly spoken by Crocodile Cafe owner
Stephanie
Dorgan—incited Peter Greenberg, the venue’s primary booker, to
quit on November 28. During a weekly staff meeting, an argument between
Greenberg and Dorgan over a catering contract for an upcoming industry
party quickly devolved into an all-too-familiar battle of wills. This
time, Greenberg decided he had enough. He tossed his keys on the table
and walked out.
“She and I never got along,” Greenberg told The Stranger the next day. “The respect isn’t there—I don’t respect her; she
doesn’t respect me. With the exception of not
having a paycheck,
it feels good. I don’t
regret the decision.”
Greenberg’s departure has been accompanied by the usual
recriminations from an unsatisfied employee. However, it’s also dragged
conjectures about the health of the Crocodile’s business into the
public eye. Greenberg told The Stranger about bounced checks,
Dorgan’s “reactive” business strategy, and dissatisfaction from current
and former employees about Dorgan’s commitment to the community role
the Crocodile plays. Dorgan did not return repeated requests for
comment, but others say the business is doing fine.
Dorgan has owned the Crocodile since it opened in 1991. Her husband,
R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck, had a hand in the business; they divorced
earlier this year. Greenberg has booked bands there for almost four
years, originally as assistant booker and then, starting earlier this
year, as primary booker. He spent less than a year in the coveted
position before reaching his breaking point, calling the venue Dorgan’s
“vanity project.”
“These problems were there before me,” he says. “I spent months last
year with every
paycheck bouncing.” In fairness to Dorgan, The
Stranger wasn’t able to see the bank statements by press time.
“And I’m not the only one who had their paycheck bounce. She’s not
making the right decisions for the business. [Shutting down] probably
is not too far off.”
Music publicist Joan Hiller held Greenberg’s position for several
months in 2003. She sees Dorgan as an absentee owner. “It seems like
she doesn’t really care about the club in the same way that a lot of
the employees do and the patrons do,” Hiller says.
Portland rock duo Viva Voce received a bad check from the Crocodile
after their gig at the end of April. Drummer Kevin Robinson wasn’t
fazed. “I figured it was some accounting fuckup, so there wasn’t any
weirdness at all,” he says. “I called Peter [Greenberg] and we cleared
it up and he gave me another check and that’s it.”
Indeed, Eli Anderson, who assumed Greenberg’s position as main
booker last week, confirmed that there was a period of bad checks at
the beginning of the year, but says none have been passed since
then.
It’s possible that business isn’t as bad as Greenberg and Hiller
make it seem.
“The rumors are just rumors,” says general manager Kevin Watson
about the public speculation of the club’s imminent demise. “I’ve been
working here for 12 years and I’ve been hearing rumors the whole time.
I’ve heard that about every club in the city.” Watson was promoted to
general manager eight months ago. Along with the promotion, Dorgan
offered him 20 percent ownership of the club, which he accepted.
“For someone like her to give me a chance to own part of the
Crocodile, to be part of the history…” Watson says. “I look at her as
a mother figure. Nobody knows these little things that she does. It’s a
long story between her and Pete [Greenberg] but I don’t know much about
it.”
The across-the-board woes of the music industry are no secret, and
Seattle—undergoing head-spinning development and an influx of
residents—faces its own unique challenges, including
anti-nightlife mayoral ordinances and the increased competition that
comes with consolidation. Neumo’s in Capitol Hill—
a direct
competitor to the Crocodile—began booking Chop Suey back in June,
essentially partnering with a former competitor. Since then, Neumo’s
has gained national prominence: It hosted the annual Rock and Roll Hall
of Fame party a few weeks ago and was recently nominated as one of
America’s top 10 venues by the indie-oriented PLUG Awards.
The Crocodile is a functioning landmark of the homegrown grunge
scene of the early ’90s, and it continues to incubate local music,
providing headlining spots and top-notch sound production to smaller
Seattle bands (the sold-out Fleet Foxes/Cave Singers show on November
30 is a perfect example). Between Greenberg’s departure and the
financial viability it brings to light, there’s reason for concern for
its future.
Watson says the venue is set to reopen its food service by the
beginning of next year, and as Greenberg begins the search for new
employment, Anderson is looking forward to his new role as primary
booker. “It’s still the Crocodile and stuff is still coming in,” he
says. “No matter who’s booking here, people still love the club and
wanna book shows.” 