Iconic L.A.: Road, Music & California Love

DRIVING TOWARDS THE beach meant double-sided cassettes spinning verse about “California Love”. Bass-treble gangsta’ anthems that inflated my brother’s bravado as he and his friends took in the babes and waves on either side of that caramel-colored Regal. Gustavo spent these days looking through his rear-view at the chubby mess of bashfulness sitting by the window. In his mind, the over-confident charm he and his friends worked over the sun-soaked girls on each of those trips were actually attempts to mold me. The Aztec gods, Olde English, black and white brown pride engraved on his arms, afternoon rides by the beach, and Tupac’s voice all seemed to influence me—this imagery would prove to shape my sentimentality of Los Angeles, whenever I would acknowledge its claim over my memories.

Tupac as a poet acts as a historian of my time in Los Angeles. His voice has the uncanny ability to surface images and senses that remind me of my first impressions of the city. Growing up I spent most of my time with my older siblings—hanging out, parties, fights, rides and rides and rides all took place within the limits of Manhattan Beach, Inglewood, and Hollywood. Tupac, as well as his friends in the genre Snoop, Ice Cube, Dre all seemed to come together to make a distinctive sound that makes me envision my family at a younger time in their lives. To me, Los Angeles represents my family growing up and driving through it with me. These times shaped my understanding and reinforced their memories with the music that surrounded. It has an aggression that represents the real struggle people face every day in this city, it illustrates the strength that people have developed after dealing with it, but it also reflects the excitement to be had within it.

Take “Dear Mamma” for instance. It reminds me of how my mom would take the bus home from work every day—trying to forget the tension in her soles with each glimpse of L.A. life on the way home. Then there’s artists like Ice Cube who remind me of fights breaking out at barbeques in Inglewood over the stupidest machismo reasoning. A song like “I Get Around” or “How Do You Want It” makes me smile at the thought of laughing with my siblings on the beach. My understanding of what makes Los Angeles L.A. is completely personal. I imagine this to be the case with any local. For my experience, I am left with songs and artists that really represent the impressions that my family created throughout the city. Even though my music taste has grown and developed on its own accord, I still keep these songs dear to my heart because they remind me of myself, my roots, and my relationship to this city.

-- Jesse Alvarez

(photo credits: bixentro, my_tats, didoro flickr photo stream)

Los Angeles Loves Coachella

ON APRIL 16, 2010, hundreds of thousands of people flooded the Empire Polo Fields in Indio, CA for the annual Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival. People travel from all over the U.S. to spend three days listening to their favorite bands, DJs, and Indie-Rock performers. Yet this year I realized that Coachella has increasingly become a festival where Angelinos escape the day-to-day dreariness of city life and run around a field for three days as if their professional lives are a thing of the past.

Every friend of mine in Los Angeles goes to Coachella, with the exception of maybe one or two. During the days leading up to the event, LMU buzzes with excitement and anticipation to get out of the city for the weekend of the year. “Are you excited for Coachella?” is never an easy question to answer. Most replies consist of ear-to-ear grins and uncontrollable laughter as Coachella-goers fantasize about the fun about to ensue. It’s difficult to concentrate at school or work for any Angeleno preparing for Coachella, as daydreams of sunshine, palm trees, and amazing live musical performances consume their thoughts.

For one weekend, Angelenos escape the smog, throw on some bohemian-style duds, and take to the grassy fiends where negative vibes are inexistent. Once the lineup is published, it’s hard for any Angelino to say no. Venice Beach hippies, Silverlake hipsters, Beverly Hills divas, and Pasadena valley girls, and famous celebrities all have a place at Coachella, whether they choose to camp, stay at a hotel or Palm Springs resort.

There is a performance for everyone at Coachella; from the legendary hip-hop stylings of Jay-Z, to the electronic beats of DJ Tiesto, to the soothing melodies of bands like She & Him; everyone in Los Angeles has a reason to go. For most people, getting to Indio is a mission—a long, tedious drive or expensive flight. For Angelinos, it takes a drive of up to a few hours, and the experience is always worth it.

-- Lauren McHale
(photo credit Lauren McHale)

Frank Zappa and the Watts Riots

THIS SONG is about the Riots of '65, though I think it applicable to any riot. What do you think the lyrics say? Deeper meanings? Any hint of the social structures that caused the riots?



Trouble Every Day
Lyrics by Frank Zappa

Well I'm about to get sick
From watchin' my TV

Been checkin' out the news
Until my eyeballs fail to see
I mean to say that every day
Is just another rotten mess
And when it's gonna change, my friend
Is anybody's guess

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day

Wednesday I watched the riot . . .
Seen the cops out on the street
Watched 'em throwin' rocks and stuff
And chokin' in the heat
Listened to reports
About the whisky passin' 'round
Seen the smoke and fire
And the market burnin' down
Watched while everybody
On his street would take a turn
To stomp and smash and bash and crash
And slash and bust and burn

And I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
That trouble comin' every day



Well, you can cool it,
You can heat it . . .
'Cause, baby, I don't need it . . .
Take your TV tube and eat it
'N all that phony stuff on sports
'N all the unconfirmed reports
You know I watched that rotten box
Until my head begin to hurt
From checkin' out the way
The newsman say they get the dirt
Before the guys on channel so-and-so



And further they assert
That any show they'll interrupt
To bring you news if it comes up
They say that if the place blows up
They will be the first to tell,
Because the boys they got downtown
Are workin' hard and doin' swell,
And if anybody gets the news
Before it hits the street,
They say that no one blabs it faster
Their coverage can't be beat

And if another woman driver
Gets machine-gunned from her seat
They'll send some joker with a brownie
And you'll see it all complete

So I'm watchin' and I'm waitin'
Hopin' for the best
Even think I'll go to prayin'
Every time I hear 'em sayin'
That there's no way to delay
That trouble comin' every day
No way to delay
trouble comin' every day

Hey, you know something people?
I'm not black
But there's a whole lots a times
I wish I could say I'm not white

Well, I seen the fires burnin'
And the local people turnin'
On the merchants and the shops
Who used to sell their brooms and mops
And every other household item
Watched the mob just turn and bite 'em
And they say it served 'em right
Because a few of them are white,
And it's the same across the nation
Black and white discrimination
Yellin' "You can't understand me!"
'N all that other jazz they hand me
In the papers and TV and
All that mass stupidity
That seems to grow more every day
Each time you hear some nitwit say
He wants to go and do you in
Because the color of your skin
Just don't appeal to him
(No matter if it's black or white)
Because he's out for blood tonight

You know we got to sit around at home
And watch this thing begin
But I bet there won't be many live
To see it really end
'Cause the fire in the street
Ain't like the fire in the heart
And in the eyes of all these people
Don't you know that this could start
On any street in any town
In any state if any clown
Decides that now's the time to fight
For some ideal he thinks is right
And if a million more agree
There ain't no Great Society
As it applies to you and me
Our country isn't free
And the law refuses to see
If all that you can ever be
Is just a lousy janitor
Unless your uncle owns a store
You know that five in every four
Just won't amount to nothin' more
Gonna watch the rats go across the floor
And make up songs about being poor

Blow your harmonica, son!




Just for kicks:






Zappa was Indeed what people would call the man.

-- Jason Collins

(photo credit, The Googly, from flickr creative commons)

Poor Man's Shangri-La

THIS IS the project that provided the working framework for artist Vincent Valdez's mural; the saga of Chavez Ravine unfolding, panel by panel along the body of a lowrider (yes, it was a lowrider) ice cream truck. Completed in 2007, the truck, El Chavez Ravine, was commissioned by musician, Ry Cooder. We'll discuss the neighborhood, Chavez Ravine, and the project a little bit more down the line but here are some song samples, drawn from the album, that tell the story of an old Los Angeles neighborhood, now vanished.
The song, "Poor Man's Shangri-la" is an aural establishing shot, if you will, of a time and place in Los Angeles more than fifty years ago and a dramatic story of eminent domain.
The lyrics unscroll below. Pay close attention to Cooder's storytelling devices, how he places you in a time, place, era, moment with specific details --

"Tell you 'bout this friend of mine that you don't know
He lives way up a road that's lost in time.
Don't know his name, or where he's coming from,
Only thing you know, he's a real gone cat,
This friend of mine.

He don't have no uptown friends, or drive a Cadillac,
But he's got cool threads and a beat up car.
All his downtown friends like me ride around in the back
'Cause he's a real cool cat, yeah he's a real cool cat,
This friend of mine.

La Loma boys will run with you,
Do anything that you want them to,
If you need a friend 'cause you're feeling blue
Palo Verde girls never let you down.

Na na na na na, living in a poor man's Shangri-La.

Firme guys in their firme cars,
Underneath the moon and stars.
The city lights way down below.
What's that sound? What's that light
Streaking down through the night?
What's it mean? It's a red cloud over
Chavez Ravine.

Orale, UFO, come gliding low.
Se cayo up Chavez Road.
Space Vato, square cat.
Say, "Caramba, partners, where's the party at?"

I heard about the cool jerk, and the alligator,
Tokay wine, Mary Jane, and Lil' Julian Herrera.
I want to learn to dance, make romance.
These La Bishop girls might take a chance.

My friend says, "No, be cool, bro.
If you want to dance slow,
Learn to ask a mi hermana con respeto."

UFO got a radio.
Lil' Julian singing soft and low.
Los Angeles down below.
DJ says, we got to go.
To El Monte, El Monte, pa El Monte.

Na na na na na, living in a poor man's Shangri-La"

Here's an evocative PBS slideshow showcasing a collection of photographs made by Don Normark in 1949.
Where does the music take you? In a nutshell, what other L.A. songs transport you to a time or place?
-- L.G.

(Music Credit: Lyrics by Ry Cooder/William Garcia/Gene Aguilera Hi-Lo Shag Music [BMI]/Wagamita Music [BMI] Carmelita Music)