It was with the release of Fast Times At Ridgemont High in 1982, followed quickly by Valley Girl in ‘83, that the beach blonde Southern California aesthetic began registering on the country’s cultural barometer. SoCal, as it came to be called, soon entered a golden era, eventually driving trends in fashion, music, food, and nearly every other aspect of the middle to lower class American cultural milieu to an extent that has never really been replicated.
LA emerged from its acrid pall of smog in 1984, when it hosted the Games of the XXIII Olympiad. Masterfully organized, marketed, and executed, the '84 Olympics ensured that for several weeks that summer the eyes of the world remained fixated on the City of Angeles, cementing its sun drenched Cal-look identity in the minds of millions. It wasn’t until the groundbreaking gang film Colors in 1988 that the metropolis’ seething underbelly was truly revealed, although gritty crime dramas such as To Live and Die in LA and Hunter had hinted at its existence years prior. Steve Martin’s spoof LA Story brilliantly signaled the end in 1991, revelling in a wealth of idiosyncrasies that had become cliched, but it was the April 29, 1992 riots in South Central that finally drew the shades on Southern California’s moment in the sun.
SoCal’s cultural relevance waned quickly, as evidenced by the flight of both the Raiders and the Rams from the country’s second largest media market in 1994. Soon only Dr. Dre remained to serve as testament to the region's former glory.
An artist of undeniable genius and cultural import, Dre is remarkable not only for his musical prowess but for his ability to quietly lead from the shadows. In a genre literally built around boasting egos, Dre prefers to let a legion of young voices run the mic and take the wheel. But make no mistake, while he may be lounging in the back of the whip like a true gangster should, he’s the one in the driver’s seat.
Following the release of Compton, his first full length album in more than a decade, Dre is once again at the forefront of an advancing SoCal presence. A gut check for those of us whose lives have coincided, but perhaps not evolved, with Dre’s, Compton: A Soundtrack is exactly that, a backdrop to the next episode of Southern California influence.
Too big to fail, the megapolis may have been sidelined, but it’s never truly out of the game. Out of sight and out of mind, it has been content to mature in relative silence. Hollywood, blow and violence might make for good television, but they can only take you so far. The new SoCal style is more nuanced, more true to itself, more honest. Its face is no longer singular, that of a peroxide blonde California girl, or even a Kings clad gangbanger or lowriding chollo.
Its next cultural explosion will, like Dre’s Compton, be an expression of an evolution. SoCal is the quintessence of what America has become, a culimination of our ethnic and cultural homogenization, our latest environmental crisis, and our shifting economic paradigm. It may have had its dark days, but it is a bellweather for our past and future identity.
There is no doubt that LA is on the uptick. Dre sits atop the box office and pop charts, the city is preparing for another Olympic bid, and there is talk of the Rams and Raiders’ return. The question is, can craft culture survive, let alone thrive, in a city that covers 4,850 square miles?
It seems doubtful, given the city’s decentralized sprawl and mass consumer roots. A quick survey of the MicroShiner map reveals only a few producers of craft spirits within its borders, in a town that buys a lot of cocktails. This compared to Austin, Texas, which lays claim to at least half a dozen distilleries and supports a booming craft culture on less than one fourth the population.
However, it is hard to judge LA as a whole, as it is really a cluster of individual towns portrayed as having a solitary identity, at least from an outsider’s perspective. On closer inspection, one finds craft culture certainly does exist in this amalgamation, coalescing in small pockets throughout the basin. Downtown LA, Silver Lake, Echo Park, Santa Monica, Hollywood, Venice and even some parts of Pasadena, Highland Park, Sherman Oaks, and Manhattan Beach all contain thriving craft scenes, thanks in large part to the influence of expat NYC bartenders like Sasha Petraske (RIP), Alex Day, Dave Kaplan, Simon Ford, Dushan Zaric, and Eric Alperin. The number of talented bartenders practicing there right now would give Brooklyn and Portland a run for their money, and this burgeoning culture has given rise to the dawn of a new era for California cocktailers, making Downtown LA one of the most exciting places in the US to drink spirits.
Just as it always has, SoCal is again at work defining another chapter in our cultural narrative, commingling seemingly disparate factors into its own unique interpretation of this moment in time. Like the mixologists who have moved west to escape it, as we disengage from the post 9/11 era of fear, loathing, and nationalistic despair, we will find an emerging West Coast culture stepping forward to again champion those familiar ideals, in yet another distinct and singular incarnation, that it has so often upheld in the past.
That vibrant, flavorful Southern California cocktail of sun drenched style and carefree attitude.
Just as it always has, SoCal is again at work defining another chapter in our cultural narrative, commingling seemingly disparate factors into its own unique interpretation of this moment in time. Like the mixologists who have moved west to escape it, as we disengage from the post 9/11 era of fear, loathing, and nationalistic despair, we will find an emerging West Coast culture stepping forward to again champion those familiar ideals, in yet another distinct and singular incarnation, that it has so often upheld in the past.
That vibrant, flavorful Southern California cocktail of sun drenched style and carefree attitude.
