- LA clubbers are oddly unversed in the art of the daytime party. While much ink has been spilled in the last year about the city's thriving DIY nightlife, once daylight hits, even the deepest underground devotees find their options more or less limited to the city's ubiquitous hotel rooftop and poolside bar scene. There is, however, Acid Camp. Since its inception last year, each edition of the Sunday party has been a welcome experiment, opening our eyes to the possibilities of open-air partying. The bookings attract the same black-clad partygoers you were rubbing shoulders with at that warehouse the night before, only at Acid Camp they're asked to take themselves a little less seriously. On Sunday, May 22nd, the party held its first birthday at a deceptively large outdoor area in between two Seafood wholesalers. When I got there, I was led through a vortex of bubbles and past a mountain of free tamales to a giant Tweety Bird moon-bounce. A sign read: "Lighten up, it's our birthday!"
Seemingly endless birthday provisions—at some point jello shots appeared out of nowhere—kept everyone in good spirits, but most attendees didn't commit to the dance floor until several hours into the event. For more than half the day, the music took a back seat to the make-shift block party. DJs Israel Vines and Patrick Russell, labelmates at Detroit outlet Interdimensional Transmissions, delivered the quality their reputations promised, but the contrast in atmosphere during each of their sets was so severe it was as if they were playing two separate events. This had little to do with any musical or stylistic distinctions between them; it was more that Sunday's acid campers just seemed unsure of when on the afternoon-to-evening timeline they were meant to start dancing.
Granted, both DJs are better known for weaving together challenging, genre-defying sets than for busting out daytime bangers, but even so, Vines's more danceable offerings (DJ Deeon's "Da Bomb") did little to motivate most of the crowd. Attendees remained shy about letting loose until nightfall suddenly revealed the red, checkerboard lighting design on the surrounding brick walls, transforming the back-alley space into something emulating the familiar cocoon of an indoor venue. It was around 8 PM at this point, Russell was on the decks and suddenly everyone seemed enthralled. As he dropped Israel Vines' "WWKD" and newest release "Gatekeeper", Vines' earlier warm-up all but faded from memory.
Across the next two hours, Russell skilfully and quickly brought the party to its peak with the help of stand-out cuts like Jack Master's "Bang The Box." But the space had a 10 PM curfew, so before they knew it the late-blooming crowd were being ushered out the door, even though energy levels were at an all-time high. Sure, there's something to be said for a party that leaves you wanting more, but in a city where Sundays rarely bleed into Mondays, I reckon the evening called for a less stilted conclusion. As Russell rolled out The Clash's "Straight To Hell" to round out the night, the audience looked like they were just getting started.
Photo credit /
Brennan Schloo