Reflecting on the Power of Pop Music and Cultural Shifts in Los Angeles
Explore the impact of pop music, cultural shifts, and historical contexts in Los Angeles. Discover personal anecdotes, significant moments, and a call for social change.
Reflecting on the Power of Pop Music and Cultural Shifts in Los Angeles
Earlier this year, I had a fascinating encounter with someone from Turkey. He confessed that he wasn't a fan of pop music, citing his preference for poetry. This stark contrast to my own life, where I find myself currently editing a poem inspired by a Taylor Swift song, has left me pondering over the significance of pop music in our lives.
Recently, I curated two music playlists, both filled with the pop music that formed the soundtrack of my childhood. These tunes, whether they were playing on the record player or blaring from the radio on a Friday night as my older sisters prepared for a night out, hold a special place in my heart.
There are countless iconic hits, but the ones that truly stick are those tied to a specific moment. Like the time I was nine, and my sister, 17, took me on a spontaneous trip to Cabrillo Beach. We stumbled upon a stage set against the cliffs where Belinda Carlisle, El DeBarge, and Fishbone were performing. And then there's the story of the time I found myself watching HOLE, seated next to Edward Norton. But that's a tale for another day.
One night in 1992, it was early autumn. I was smoking on the patio with temperatures below 70F/21C. It could be like standing in a snowstorm for an Angeleno. It was the weekend of my first year in high school, and friends celebrated by going out to the only gay nightclub we knew. I’m smoking a Benson & Hedges menthol cigarette that I’d taken up just that summer. Below is a list of some notable dance hits from that time, but this night at Arena was special. Watch the Jade and try to find out how many times other artists have sampled this song. It’s a classic.
"I'm Gonna Get You" by Bizarre Inc
"I'm Every Woman" by Whitney Houston
"Rhythm Is a Dancer" by Snap!
"Don't Walk Away" by Jade
I must digress because I can't evoke Los Angeles without making a brief comment on the housing crisis. According to the Los Angeles Homeless Services Authority (LAHSA) estimates, over 83,000 people are on the streets or in shelters on any given night. Before I was fifteen, my family had moved at least half a dozen times within a two-mile radius.
I was born and raised in Los Angeles. Unhoused people were always part of the landscape; people living on the street were in the parks, at bus benches, and in public restrooms. This was the backdrop of my life in Los Angeles.
We must find a way to cure this chronic condition in our communities. How do we apply our queer shoulders to the same wheel long enough to make transformative change? Our attention is always divided and drawn toward another tragedy in this twittering world.
That moment at Arena in 1992, a time that could easily be dismissed as a distraction from the socio-political upheaval happening in the U.S. in the early 1990s, holds a special place in my memories. The latest series, THEM, is set against the backdrop of my childhood, a time filled with both joy and struggle. It's graphic and challenging content, a reflection of the harsh realities we faced. THEM is a horror television series created by Little Marvin and premiered its first season on April 9, 2021. The series explores terror in America, with each season set in a different historical era and location, reminding us of the societal issues we've faced and continue to grapple with.
We all want to be protected from harm. While fleeing can be an adaptive response in genuinely threatening situations, chronic activation of this response can lead to anxiety disorders. We have allowed corporations and the rich to steer our lives. We must be kept ill. To keep ourselves distracted, we've learned that glitter makes it better. We're blowhards! Showoffs!
Malcolm Harris' Palo Alto explores Silicon Valley's historical and cultural foundations, from the California Gold Rush to its current role as a global technology hub. Harris claims that the individualistic, ambitious, and profit-driven mindset associated with Silicon Valley is profoundly ingrained in American culture and identity.
Harris recounts the beliefs, technology, and policies constructed during 150 years of Anglo settler colonialism, including I.Q. testing, the "tragedy of the commons," racial genetics, and "broken windows" theory. It tells the narrative of how a little American suburb became a tremendous engine of economic prosperity and war, ultimately leading the globe into a startlingly terrible twenty-first century. Palo Alto is a visionary history of the way we live today, concluding with a clear-eyed, radical proposal for how we may start to reverse direction.
I was a regular at Arena from the age of 15 to 19. Arena, together with Circus on the other side of the parking lot, was once billed as the "World's Largest Disco." In the late 2010s, both venues were razed to make way for residential development. Hollywood nightclubs such as Arena and Circus Disco influenced Los Angeles society beyond entertainment. Hollywood nightclubs had an impact on Los Angeles that goes beyond entertainment. Traditionally, these venues served as gathering places for people, particularly the disenfranchised, to express themselves and feel included. These venues promoted inclusivity and support by creating safe spaces for violating social norms.
Arena and Circus Disco dance floors were popular places for people to dance and celebrate diversity. The dynamic and avant-garde atmosphere encouraged artistic expression and innovation. Growing up homosexual and Latino in Los Angeles, nightclubs helped me figure out who I was.
Nightclubs made it possible to travel to parts of West Los Angeles that were previously only accessible to the wealthy. It gave me a perspective about myself as an outsider within this community. These stories have found a place in literature. Books by persons of color about being gay include Anthony Ocampo's Brown and Gay in L.A. (2022), Jeremy Atherton's Gay Bar (2022), and Gil Cuadros' City of God (1994).
I left California in 2007. The year before my thirty-first birthday, I chose to quit a corporate job that I had developed over the previous six years and returned to school. I left everything I knew since I was fifteen, including every gay, lesbian, and transgender individual. I knew I needed a change, and this was the only way to make it happen. Music can make change so much easier, but it can make moments linger a bit longer. What are your favorite dance songs/mixes?