by Jeff Vincent
If I could hop a time machine and walk into Offbeat Music back in 1997 to find my 15-year-old self flipping through a bin of Pink Floyd bootleg CDs, or nibbling a slice of Cialuzzi’s pizza in the back room behind the two-way mirror, while prudently eyeing the owner who’s pulling a bong from the freezer as I sift through a duffel bag of tape cassette boots, and I could inform that 15-year-old me that the sanctuary in which he stood was destined to become a dental office in a future that would be likewise bereft of Blockbuster Video, Go Boy Records, and Toys “R” Us, he would probably spontaneously combust on the spot.
I grew up in South Redondo Beach, walking the train tracks to Hermosa along what is now the Greenbelt. As kids, we’d hunt among those remnants of the old Santa Fe line for lizards and the occasional cache of bum-porn. (If you don’t understand what that means, beautiful. If you navigated the streets of a pre-internet, pre cellphone age and do get it, then shame on you.) It was a very different South Bay from what we know today, one dotted with the vestige of an earlier, groovier, and simpler age.
Peach trees grew out of the sidewalk in front of my North Elena Avenue home. Pomegranates and prickly pears dropped in the driveway from the trees and paddle cactuses that hung over the fence of the beach bungalow we called home. It was the first house on our street to be bulldozed.
The Bijou Theater showed the “Rocky Horror Picture Show” on Saturdays, at midnight. Now it’s a Chase Bank. The AMC theater at the top of Pier Ave. on PCH had a video game arcade downstairs. It’s now a 24 Hour Fitness. Brave souls in search of adult toys and adult entertainment entered the front door of The Tender Box on PCH at 8th Street, in full view of passing traffic. You could destroy yourself with a Tomboy’s Famous Chiliburger before jumping next door to shop vintage at Granny Takes A Trip, and then skip down the street to Aardvark’s. Parents could dump you for a summer afternoon of mini-golf and waterslides at Malibu Castle & Monsoon Lagoon on Marine Avenue in what we always thought was Manhattan Beach, but might have been Hawthorne, Lawndale, or Redondo — it’s hard to say; it’s now a Tesla Supercharger. Dad might’ve slipped you five bucks on your way out the backdoor from brunch at Tequila Willie’s in Manhattan Village Mall so you could snag a new G.I. Joe at Kay-Bee Toys. Tower Records in Torrance became my second home; it’s now an Amazon Go.
There’s no more Recycled Records or Music Plus. No more Alta Dena Dairy, no Greeko’s Sandals, no Becker Surf, no dreaded Tilt-A-Whirl at the Fun Factory. No more Walker’s Cafe at Point Fermin, or Goat Hill in Manhattan Beach. Le Petite Cafe, The Spot, and 2nd Street Cafe are all gone. No more Pacer Darts, Surprise Store, Zeppy’s Pizza, Unky Roy’s, or Leland’s Just For Fun. No more Movies ’N’ You, 20/20 or Premiere Video, Wherehouse, or Video Out-Takes. No more Galaxy, Magoo’s, or Geoffrey’s comic book shops. No more PV Bowl, Gable House, or Active West bowling alleys. No more intimate live music nights at Cafe Boogaloo or Club Caprice (formerly The Strand, Annabelle’s, and The Plush Horse). And every other cool place that once was is now probably a real estate office.
Thankfully, there are a few holdouts. Cherished relics like Old Town Music Hall in El Segundo, where in 2025 you can see a silent film on the big screen while a human being provides musical accompaniment on their Mighty Wurlitzer Theatre Pipe Organ. We’ve still got The Comedy & Magic Club and Seaside Lagoon. Mickey’s Deli and The Green Store. Naja’s Place, Ercole’s, Hermosa Saloon, and Shellback Tavern. Cozy Cafe, Ocean Diner, Eat At Joe’s, and Sloopy’s. Boccato’s and Granny’s groceries. El Gaucho Meat Market and Malaga Cove Ranch Market. Quality Seafood, Old Tony’s, and El Torito at the Redondo Pier. The San Franciscan, Uncle Bill’s, Martha’s, The Bullpen, and a family offshoot of Millie Riera’s in Riera’s Place. And we now have a boatload of craft breweries, and Select Beer Store (our Cheers).
But I can’t say that it hasn’t been painful to see so many of our iconic cultural outposts collapse beneath the weight of progress. Blown away by the wistful winds of a bygone era. Scraped off like troublesome barnacles.
Concerned that our ill-fated beacons of yesteryear’s cultural fabric might fade from memory, two homegrown locals have launched a clothing company aimed at paying homage to some of their favorite spots. High school history teacher Chris Berry and BeachLife graphics designer John Faso are Rat Beach Rags.
“It’s a small T-shirt brand run by two South Bay punks doing what they can to not let the cool stuff they grew up with be forgotten,” Faso said.
“We are giving back to the culture of the South Bay that we grew up with when there were more artistic, intellectual, musical and outcast elements here. We’re hoping to keep that memory and legacy alive. We want to remind people that this used to be a place with a counterculture instead of the Miami Beach lookalike that developers are trying to make it into. It’s cool when you’re walking around the South Bay and someone sees you in your Scooter’s [Records] or Either/Or [Bookstore] shirt and they start up a conversation with you about it. Uncle Tim (Scooter’s Records owner) and his wife Aimee text me every once in a while when they see a Scooter’s Records shirt out in the wild.”
In addition to Scooter’s Records, and Either/Or Bookstore, the boys have made shirts and sweatshirts for Theologian Records, Alternative Groove Records, Go Boy Records, Video Archives, Re:Style, and Pessimiser Records. They’ve also done Either/Or Bookstore hats.
“What meant most to us growing up here were the record stores, book stores, video rental stores, and movie theaters,” Berry said. “The places and businesses we’ve made shirts for had a huge impact on us in our teens. These places were cultural centers for the punks, outcasts, weirdos and intellectuals of the South Bay. I gained the best education of my life hanging out in these stores.”
Faso said punk rock will always be the focus of their operation. A couple other spots from the past he’s eager to honor are the Cove/Bijou Theater and Frogs.
“Frogs was a dive bar in Lawndale. I saw my first punk show there,” he said.
Faso said they’re also open to commemorating counterculture that predates their teen years.
“I wasn’t around to see The Cove Theatre [prior to the Bijou],” he said. “But I’d love to make some gear for it because it’s a big part of our town’s history. And also because it’s cool as hell”
The downtown Hermosa theater began as the Metropolitan in 1923. It became The Cove in 1974, and the Bijou from 1983 to 1996.
“My first job in high school was working the snack bar at the Bijou Theater during its last year and a half. I have so many bonkers stories about working there.”
“Later, I worked at Scooter’s Records. My mind was opened to so much music and ideas from conversations I had with owner “Uncle Tim” McDermott, (who named the store after his childhood dog, and who’s now a public defender), and the people who hung out there. I have friends to this day, 25 years later, that I made working there. You wouldn’t just go into Scooter’s Records or Either/Or Bookstore as a blind consumer. You’d have conversations.”
“During COVID I made some Scooter’s shirts, and people really loved them because they loved Uncle Tim and his record store,” Berry said. “It made me want to make more shirts honoring cultural businesses that are no longer around, but had a major impact on us. We didn’t realize how good we had it growing up here in the ‘80s and ‘90s. You could walk down Pier Avenue [in Hermosa Beach] and hit up Alternative Groove Records, Scooter’s Records, Either/Or Bookstore, Re:Style, The Bijou Theater, Greeko’s, The Lighthouse… All that’s left now is the Lighthouse.
“It bums me out that my kids won’t get that experience of walking down Pier Ave. and getting your young mind blown away by all those cool people.”
“I knew John through the punk scene, and during COVID I commissioned him to design some Circle Jerks-inspired art for some shirts for my AP History students.”
The Circle Jerks are a hardcore punk band formed in Los Angeles in 1979.
“John made a skankin’ Abraham Lincoln, skankin’ Frida Kahlo and skankin’ Monty Python Black Knight. We became friends through this. John is a really great artist. I approached him with the idea of a T-shirt business focusing on South Bay punk history. He designed the logo pretty quickly after that.”
For Faso, the proposal struck a deep chord.
“Punk rock is the only thing that’s ever made sense to me,” he said. “Even when it doesn’t make any sense at all. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really understood and the only thing that’s been a constant. It’s never let me down. People within it have let me down. But not the spirit of it all.”
Berry recognized other local folk who produce culturally historic shirts.
“AJ of Burnout who makes Marineland, Mermaid, and Poopdeck shirts. The Hermosa Beach Museum has Insomniac, Bijou and Mermaid shirts and paraphernalia. We’ve been sticking with the punk, music, book, and artistic side of the old South Bay, because that’s what we loved the most.”
“It’s definitely not about money,” Faso said. “It’s about our love for punk rock and how it relates to the South Bay. And not letting that culture die out.”
“We’re both born and raised in the South Bay, and, although nothing can stay the same forever, we just want the people who were here at the time these places existed to have memories rekindled, and for people in general to remember the cultural institutions that used to exist here,” Berry says.
“People moving here have no idea that this place had a huge impact on punk rock and American culture, dating back to the ‘60’s with The Standells, Beach Boys, The Doors, and Rick Griffin. Writers and artists like Charles Bukowski, Thomas Pynchon, and Raymond Pettibon all used to hang out in Either/Or [Bookstore]. People know about South Bay punk bands like Black Flag, Descendents, Pennywise, and Minutemen. But there was also an infrastructure of record stores, recording studios and other places that supported them. Most of that physical history has been wiped out, so we’re just trying to keep those memories alive.”
For more about Rat Beach Rags visit RatBeachRags.com. ER
I would go to Go Boy Records to find flyers for the local music scene; Black Flag and Red Kross at Mi Casita, The Imperial Butt Wizards at Frogs. Keith Morris and Dean Seislove worked there. I bought and sold hundreds of records and CDs there.
Great article, thanks for the memories ♥️