Very Be Careful at Temple Bar
Friday, July 27
After spending about 20 minutes in the dark, thumping expanses of Santa Monica’s Temple Bar, one simple conclusion can be agreed upon: This place seems uncannily womb-like.
The sounds that emanate from the speakers of this two-room nightspot are simultaneously deafening and muffled. Dark silk drapes cover the windows, and the backlighting on the bar drenches the space in a deep ruby wash. Standing out like jovial ghosts in this primordial red are life-size white stone statues of the Buddha, eyes closed and hands meditative, with a sweet, placid smile stretching over his pallid face.
Friday night, amid this sanguine setting, L.A.-based quintet Very Be Careful emerged from the crimson glow of the stage lights to perform their infectious interpretation of Colombian vallenato music for the eagerly awaiting 21-and-over crowd. The five-man ensemble recently finished a European tour and now, home at last, they are making the neighborhood rounds.
Vallenato music is traditionally comprised of cumbia tunes accompanied by the melodious wail of the accordion and the resonant thumps of percussion and bass as they insistently keep time. However, when Very Be Careful decides to play vallenato, these old tunes transform into gritty, irresistible anthems of life in Los Angeles. Watching the band soon becomes a futile battle of will to try to keep from dancing to these terribly upbeat numbers.
Within a matter of seconds, the dance floor was full to capacity, and the gyrating, groping couples that didn’t move fast enough to the dance floor spilled into any and every unoccupied space. As the music got louder, the women got louder, the laughs got louder, and everything seemed to surge with energy. The dance floor soon dissolved into a pulsating sea of tight embraces, swiveling hips and the salty-sweet smell of sweat, saliva and novelty mixed drinks.
The first song Very Be Careful unleashed that night was “El Escape,” off of their recently released album “Salad Buey.” Something about the lead singer’s unusually whiny, gritty voice melded perfectly with the moans emanating from the accordion. Together, they produced a sound that was both familiar yet blissfully exotic, a sound that beckoned to every ear in the house, calling them forth, making them smile, demanding they dance.
“Sebastiani” and “Mi Vecina” soon followed, but only the most diehard Very Be Careful fans or vallenato experts could have differentiated the songs from one another. Every song in the band’s repertoire that night melted seamlessly into the others, creating a giant, hours-long block of sound. Some might have experienced an overload, finding the songs too similar, while others embraced the intoxicating flood of sound, reveling in the fact that the fun, the music and the party flowed on with no end in sight.
Regardless of one’s familiarity with vallenato, the skill and adept professionalism of the members of Very Be Careful was in peak form. These expert crowd-pleasers did what they did best. They conjured up an escape from the work-week tedium; they granted access to somewhere altogether new yet thoroughly familiar and a taste of all the colorful variety the world has to offer.
“Welcome to hell, baby!” called singer and accordionist Ricardo Guzman in between songs. “Welcome to Santa Monica,” he added with a laugh. The crowd of boisterous dancers cheered in response with laughs and yells and the next song soon blasted through the speakers.
Given the red, throbbing, dark expanses of the venue, the idea that one might very well be in hell didn’t seem that far fetched. However, if being in hell meant having a band like Very Be Careful on hand to entertain, the revelers at the Temple Bar on Friday night would have been all to willing to spend a little time surrounded by fire, brimstone, accordions, bass and drums.
““ Massiel Bobadilla
E-mail Bobadilla at mbobadilla@media.ucla.edu.