Chris Manak

In an era when many music labels are foundering, stymied by the Internet free-for-all and struggling to keep up with changing nuances of popular tastes, L.A.'s Stones Throw Records is unexpectedly thriving. Founded in 1996 by Chris Manak (better known in the hip-hop underground as his alter-ego, DJ Peanut Butter Wolf) the label has slowly and steadily evolved, defying the climate of the time with not much more than good taste and common sense.

In an era when many music labels are foundering, stymied by the Internet free-for-all and struggling to keep up with changing nuances of popular tastes, L.A.'s Stones Throw Records is unexpectedly thriving. Founded in 1996 by Chris Manak (better known in the hip-hop underground as his alter-ego, DJ Peanut Butter Wolf) the label has slowly and steadily evolved, defying the climate of the time with not much more than good taste and common sense.

PEANUT BUTTER WOLF is about to shame Angelenos who are too lazy to drive across town for a concert. The L.A.-based DJ and founder of Stones Throw Records is doing something most local nightlife vampires, let alone globe-hopping musicians, never get around to -- hitting the streets for seven straight DJ gigs in a week, playing seven genres, at seven L.A. nightclubs.

A change wasn't going to come. By 2005, Aloe Blacc's decade in hip-hop had begun to yield diminishing returns. Though the Orange County-raised rapper had earned underground respect, the genre increasingly favored flamboyant eccentrics like Kanye West and Lil Wayne. Avenues for expansion were scarce ? especially for a USC graduate whose press biography touts a love of transcendentalism and French existentialism. "I grew up break dancing and rapping, but hip-hop no longer spoke to me the way it had when I was younger.

Standing among the schoolchildren and tourists gawking at the glassed-in sea life at the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach, a man in beige pants and a matching turban studies all manner of coral and kelp with his hands clasped behind his back. Otis Jackson Jr., who lives just a few blocks away and frequents the facility, could be mistaken for a professor of marine biology or perhaps a grad student.

One of Los Angeles' most vibrant subcultures started with the simplest of urges: Mark "Frosty" McNeill wanted to play records. From that seed grew Dublab, an Internet radio station that survived the dot-com crash and stamped its influence all over L.A.'s underground arts scene. If you've never heard the eclectic fare webcast at www.dublab.