In 1974, Dave Hodges was reconnecting with an old friend over a few beers when he realized that there was a shortage of hip establishments in North San Diego County.
Rather than pursue a career in accounting, which he had just earned a degree in from the University of San Diego, he decided to open a bar.
After a long search for the right location, Hodges discovered a Quonset hut on Cedros Avenue in Solana Beach. The arched, corrugated steel building had been used by the Navy during World War II and more recently by a waterbed manufacturer that had gone out of business. With a humorous nod to the past, Hodges named his new bar the Belly Up Tavern.
“We were looking for a place where a couple of old friends could go for a few beers,” Hodges said in a 1989 interview with The Times. “Something like an English pub, not dark and dreary, not a place that smelled bad.”
The bar’s early clientele was mostly blue-collar workers who came for the chess and checker boards, pool tables and to throw darts. There was even a library where patrons could check out novels for some bar-side reading, Hodges recalled.
“We were supported by plumbers, electricians and carpenters, people who wanted a quiet spot for a few brews,” he said. “It was low-key.”
It then morphed into one of SoCal’s longest running (and loudest) music venues and the site of many historic shows, from Tom Jones to Snoop Dogg.
Fans wait in line for a Steel Pulse concert as Belly Up Tavern celebrates its 50th anniversary in Solana Beach.
(Wally Skalij / Los Angeles Times)
This month marks Belly Up’s 50th anniversary, and instead of throwing a single event to honor that milestone, the music venue has been hosting a series of concerts — 50 in all. They began in July with performances from such acts as the Aggrolites, War and X and will conclude in October with three consecutive nights featuring Ben Harper & the Innocent Criminals. The diverse lineup is a reflection of the Belly Up’s vibrant history.
During its early years, the venue showcased roots music and gathered a loyal clientele. Hodges built a low stage using leftover materials from the waterbed business, and the venue hosted blues, bluegrass and rock ’n’ roll artists.
Big Mama Thornton, Etta James and Albert Collins were just a few of the blues greats who frequently played at the Belly Up during the disco era. The venue also built a reggae fan base by bringing such Jamaican superstars as Eek-A-Mouse, U-Roy and Toots and the Maytals to North County.
By the 1990s, the Belly Up was hosting artists that had achieved more mainstream success, among them George Clinton, No Doubt and the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Around this time, Hodges met Steve Goldberg and Phil Berkovitz, owners of a nearby restaurant called Pacific Coast Grill. Some bands that played the Belly Up would perform at the restaurant on Thursdays under alternate names. Among them was popular San Diego band the Beat Farmers, which played shows at the restaurant as the Incredible Hayseeds. Hodges, Goldberg and Berkovitz developed a friendship and regularly frequented each other’s businesses.
“We got to be friends,” Goldberg says. “And we just said, ‘Look man, if you ever want to sell, we’re the guys. We understand what your vision is, and we wouldn’t mess it up.’”
Hodges sold the Belly Up Tavern, along with an adjoining restaurant, to Goldberg and Berkovitz in 2003.
The two have stayed true to the venue’s spirit while nurturing its growth, so much so that many of its Belly Up’s employees have worked there for decades, with some predating the current ownership.
The Belly Up has undergone a fair share of change over the years, like dropping “Tavern” and showcasing performances from household names such as Jones, Snoop Dogg and the Rolling Stones.
During the COVID-19 pandemic closures, Goldberg and Berkovitz used their time off to renovate the restaurant next door, dubbing it the Belly Up Tavern, while the venue remained the Belly Up. Today, fliers from past concerts cover the walls of the restaurant, immersing customers in the club’s history.
This reverence for the past, along with the inherent intimacy of the 600-capacity venue, invite audience members to experience the Belly Up’s concerts, rather than just witnessing them.
Steel Pulse at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach.
(Wally Skalij / Los Angeles Times)
Goldberg and Berkovitz attribute much of the Belly Up’s success to their philosophy. “Noncorporate professionalism has been our mantra,” Goldberg says. “There’s so much consolidation, and we don’t want to be thought of as anything other than us: the experience that we have and the vibe that we put out.”
That’s not to say that they’re opposed to reaching a wider audience. Last year, the Belly Up started exclusively booking concerts at the Sound, a 1,900-capacity concert hall on the Del Mar Fairgrounds.
They also work alongside corporate promoters to put on larger shows around Southern California. “We produce a lot of shows outside the Belly Up, and we have to work with a lot of those big companies,” Goldberg says. “We’re not enemies. We don’t find that distasteful at all. We’re just working with people to create great events.”
Another of the Belly Up’s not-so-secret weapons is Grammy Award-winning producer Chris Goldsmith.
Shortly after seeing Mongo Santamaria at the Belly Up on his 21st birthday, Goldsmith started playing at the venue with his band, Borracho y Loco. This led to a job with the venue’s booking agency in 1988. Goldsmith brought blues, reggae and world music artists to the stage for six years before moving away and venturing into album production, working with such artists as the Blind Boys of Alabama, Charlie Musselwhite and Harper.
Goldsmith returned to Southern California shortly after Goldberg and Berkovitz purchased the Belly Up and started booking events again before eventually taking a full-time position. Along with a professor and students from San Diego State, Goldsmith developed the idea of televising concerts with a show called “Live at the Belly Up,” which continues to air on the local public TV station KPBS.
“It’s entirely shot by students,” he says. “We could never do this without the university’s support.” This allows film students to build their resumes and network with artists, he adds.
As the current president of the club, Goldsmith was tasked with planning a celebration for the Belly Up’s 50th anniversary, driven by the 50-show series.
“If you’ve got 50 shows, times 600 people, if we’re lucky enough to sell them all out, that’s 30,000 people,” Goldsmith said. “So how do you celebrate the anniversary of a 600-cap venue with 30,000 people? Well, you spread it out over four months.”
Customers enjoy drinks and food at the Belly Up Tavern in Solana Beach.
(Wally Skalij / Los Angeles Times)
Like most of the artists booked for the concert series, roots reggae icons Steel Pulse are no strangers to the Belly Up. “It’s been like family,” says frontman and songwriter David Hinds. “If it was a house, I’d be a lodger or a tenant or whatever you call it in America,” he laughs.
In August, Steel Pulse played to a sold-out crowd. From the first downbeat to the last, audience members danced and bobbed their heads, bearing a resemblance to the nearby ocean.
To this day, the Belly Up is a stronghold for reggae, blues and roots music.
“It really dates back to that original seed that was planted by the original owner, Dave Hodges, and the first crew that was in there,” Goldsmith says. “They were very much roots music people, and they invested a lot of time and energy into exposing local San Diego to that kind of music. I think that left an archetypal imprint on the club and on the community that’s still there today.”
The concert series will continue through October, with Built to Spill, Jason Mraz and the Wallflowers among the artists booked in the coming weeks. Tickets and a complete lineup can be found at the Belly Up’s website.
After 50 years, Hodges still owns the Quonset hut that houses the club. Goldberg and Berkovitz are proud to carry on the Belly Up’s legacy and look forward to bringing live music to Solana Beach for many years to come.
“Dave Hodges, we proved him wrong, man,” Goldberg says with a laugh. “We never went belly up.”
