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Gonzo Report: Visiting the Acid Vault at Amplified Ale Works
A kind of Enchanted Forest meets Kid Charlemagne feel
Amplified’s Acid Vault: an Enchanted Forest-meets-Kid-Charlemagne vibe.
I step into the frigid November air, bundled up in sweaters, gloves, and a knit cap, rushing to meet the Uber that is to escort me to down the hill to East Village. It’s my first post-time-change evening out, and even though it feels like midnight, my watch reads a quarter to eight. The driver arrives rocking a brand-new Tesla, and I feel like the village idiot because I can’t figure out how to open the door.
Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up to the Amplified Ale Works at the corner of 14th Street and Island. It’s a split-level design, with the top floor holding dozens of youngish patrons getting their drink and food on. I, however, am looking to get downstairs, there to check out the Monday night music scene, curated by guitarist and impresario Louis Valenzuela. A friendly bartender exacts my five-dollar cover charge and personally escorts me down a long staircase into a long rectangular room, where I’ll be setting up my mobile office for the night. Valenzuela arrived several hours earlier to set up his equipment. He’s got a multimedia thing happening called Electric LouieLand, and on this November night, he’s hosting a show featuring Karlos Paez, founder of the B-Side Players. Paez sings and plays guitar, and his band features Emmanuel Alarcon on lead guitar and vocals, Abraham Lacen on percussion, and Stephen Gentillalli on bass.
I settle into a seat in the second row, just behind local watercolor artist Brian Meyer, who has already set up his paints and easel. Chances are, if you’ve been to a jazz show, you know that Meyer is a familiar fixture. The band hasn’t quite arrived, so I check in with Louie V. He’ll be in constant motion throughout the night, but always returning to his cubicle off to the side, where’s got a small mixing board and a laptop monitoring the video feed from four digital cameras placed around the stage. He’s livestreaming tonight’s set in multiple formats on several platforms, including YouTube, Facebook, and Twitch.
Glancing down, I find it easy to understand where the “Acid Vault” moniker came from. The floor is made of decorative concrete, displaying alternating strokes of pastel brushwork. Also, there are two large faux trees sitting atop split-barrel oak kegs. The room was designed by artist Aubree Miller, who carved the dual tree trunks during the pandemic. The painted upper structure of the trees reaches out into the ceiling, and the whole place has kind of an Enchanted Forest meets Kid Charlemagne feel to it. There’s an overhead projector connected to another laptop which is sending trippy images careening around the room, and once the music begins, I find I wouldn’t be shocked if one of the trees started dancing. “What Aubree created is amazing,” says Meyer, clearly appreciating the work of another artist.
Around 30 people have arrived by the time the band begins to play. I’d estimate that 80 percent of them might need to show identification to verify legal drinking status. The band morphs from Mexican grooves into Jamaican sounds and other quasi-Latin feels, but they are also competing with the ambient noise of the crowd. At times, it’s tough to say who’s winning. Happily, by the time Paez steers the band into Bob Marley’s “Them Belly Full,” the audience seems to have shifted their attention from the drone of multiple inebriated conversations to what’s happening onstage. Oddly enough, I notice at this point that the crowd has grown to about 50 patrons, which is just about capacity. For the rest of the evening, the sound from the stage is louder than that of the crowd. For his part, Paez navigates the noisy assemblage with an easy rapport. At one point, he gleefully announces, “I love Mondays, unlike the Bangles,” a reference to that band’s 1986 radio hit “Manic Monday.”
Paez has a strong, powerful voice, and his dialogue with Alarcon’s lead guitar makes for consistent highlights throughout the night — although Gentillalli’s bass solos almost steal the show on more than one occasion. Special kudos go out to Valenzuela, who wears many hats from start to finish, from curator to videographer to soundman and social-media master. There’s a different band every week down here, and after the first set, it opens up for a jam session featuring some of San Diego’s heavy hitters. Not much competition from other venues on Mondays, and the vibe at the Acid Vault is singular.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Visiting the Acid Vault at Amplified Ale Works
A kind of Enchanted Forest meets Kid Charlemagne feel
Gonzo Report: Visiting the Acid Vault at Amplified Ale Works
A kind of Enchanted Forest meets Kid Charlemagne feel
Amplified’s Acid Vault: an Enchanted Forest-meets-Kid-Charlemagne vibe.
I step into the frigid November air, bundled up in sweaters, gloves, and a knit cap, rushing to meet the Uber that is to escort me to down the hill to East Village. It’s my first post-time-change evening out, and even though it feels like midnight, my watch reads a quarter to eight. The driver arrives rocking a brand-new Tesla, and I feel like the village idiot because I can’t figure out how to open the door.
Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up to the Amplified Ale Works at the corner of 14th Street and Island. It’s a split-level design, with the top floor holding dozens of youngish patrons getting their drink and food on. I, however, am looking to get downstairs, there to check out the Monday night music scene, curated by guitarist and impresario Louis Valenzuela. A friendly bartender exacts my five-dollar cover charge and personally escorts me down a long staircase into a long rectangular room, where I’ll be setting up my mobile office for the night. Valenzuela arrived several hours earlier to set up his equipment. He’s got a multimedia thing happening called Electric LouieLand, and on this November night, he’s hosting a show featuring Karlos Paez, founder of the B-Side Players. Paez sings and plays guitar, and his band features Emmanuel Alarcon on lead guitar and vocals, Abraham Lacen on percussion, and Stephen Gentillalli on bass.
I settle into a seat in the second row, just behind local watercolor artist Brian Meyer, who has already set up his paints and easel. Chances are, if you’ve been to a jazz show, you know that Meyer is a familiar fixture. The band hasn’t quite arrived, so I check in with Louie V. He’ll be in constant motion throughout the night, but always returning to his cubicle off to the side, where’s got a small mixing board and a laptop monitoring the video feed from four digital cameras placed around the stage. He’s livestreaming tonight’s set in multiple formats on several platforms, including YouTube, Facebook, and Twitch.
Glancing down, I find it easy to understand where the “Acid Vault” moniker came from. The floor is made of decorative concrete, displaying alternating strokes of pastel brushwork. Also, there are two large faux trees sitting atop split-barrel oak kegs. The room was designed by artist Aubree Miller, who carved the dual tree trunks during the pandemic. The painted upper structure of the trees reaches out into the ceiling, and the whole place has kind of an Enchanted Forest meets Kid Charlemagne feel to it. There’s an overhead projector connected to another laptop which is sending trippy images careening around the room, and once the music begins, I find I wouldn’t be shocked if one of the trees started dancing. “What Aubree created is amazing,” says Meyer, clearly appreciating the work of another artist.
Around 30 people have arrived by the time the band begins to play. I’d estimate that 80 percent of them might need to show identification to verify legal drinking status. The band morphs from Mexican grooves into Jamaican sounds and other quasi-Latin feels, but they are also competing with the ambient noise of the crowd. At times, it’s tough to say who’s winning. Happily, by the time Paez steers the band into Bob Marley’s “Them Belly Full,” the audience seems to have shifted their attention from the drone of multiple inebriated conversations to what’s happening onstage. Oddly enough, I notice at this point that the crowd has grown to about 50 patrons, which is just about capacity. For the rest of the evening, the sound from the stage is louder than that of the crowd. For his part, Paez navigates the noisy assemblage with an easy rapport. At one point, he gleefully announces, “I love Mondays, unlike the Bangles,” a reference to that band’s 1986 radio hit “Manic Monday.”
Paez has a strong, powerful voice, and his dialogue with Alarcon’s lead guitar makes for consistent highlights throughout the night — although Gentillalli’s bass solos almost steal the show on more than one occasion. Special kudos go out to Valenzuela, who wears many hats from start to finish, from curator to videographer to soundman and social-media master. There’s a different band every week down here, and after the first set, it opens up for a jam session featuring some of San Diego’s heavy hitters. Not much competition from other venues on Mondays, and the vibe at the Acid Vault is singular.
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