This time last year, hipsters were all aflutter about the impending doom of this much loved venue. The Turf Club had changed hands—bought by a guy who ran Irish pubs, no less!—and the Clown Lounge had been stripped of all its disquieting Barnum and Bailey flair. But as with the rebirth of First Avenue not long before, the Turf Club came back better than ever. Walls were knocked down, relieving the narrow venue with a little extra breathing room. And breathing room was needed, as the club became a haven for smoking music fans from the west (if only for a year). Still intact are the pinball machines and heavily used make-out closet, er, photo booth. But most importantly, the club has kept its calendar stocked with local favorites and one-offs by touring acts that just love playing the space. In conclusion: The sky did not fall, Bozo gave us the creeps anyway, and Damien Jurado still thinks the place is cool (and who are you to argue with Damien Jurado?).