Rock N Roll

Jim Ladd can drop rock-star names like nobody's business — no surprise considering music's been his business for four decades. Or it had been until late last month when the new owners of L.A. rock radio station KLOS-FM (95.5) gave the boot to Ladd, who had been holding court behind a microphone there for the last 14 years. And that was just his latest stint at the station. Ladd logged a total of 20 years during three separate tours of rock 'n' roll radio duty at KLOS. A fixture on the Southern California airwaves, Ladd also chalked up nine years at the defunct station KMET-FM before it dumped rock for an easy-listening format dubbed "The Wave," as well as time at L.A.'s short-lived KEDG-FM ("The Edge")

Rita Ryack spent several weeks tangling with Tom Cruise's leather pants. The costume designer for the upcoming 1980s musical "Rock of Ages" (opening June 15) was instrumental in Cruise's conversion into the fictional rock icon Stacee Jaxx, a self-involved guitar-playing idol in the vein of Guns N' Roses frontman Axl Rose. The coyote-fur jacket, the jewel-encrusted codpiece and the custom-made cowboy hat did wonders in transforming the normally strait-laced Cruise into a drug-addled performer with more in common with Mick Jagger than Ethan Hunt.

LA JOLLA -- The story of early rock 'n' roll is a truly American tale. The music probably wouldn't have been possible if not for the proximity of people from diverse backgrounds, overhearing each other and appropriating what they liked. Yet if America in the late 1940s and early '50s was beginning to come together in music, the country, in most other ways, remained deeply divided. "Memphis" -- a musical being given an exuberant, high-gloss staging at La Jolla Playhouse -- looks back on this time and finds a message at once chilling and full of hope.

Bert Weedon was a legendary British guitar player who influenced a generation of budding rock stars with his popular "Play in a Day" instructional book. Eric Clapton, Brian May, Pete Townshend, Paul McCartney, John Lennon and George Harrison are among those who received help in learning to play the guitar from Weedon's book, which was first published in 1957 and has sold more than 2 million copies. "I wouldn't have felt the urge to press on without the tips and encouragement Bert's book gives you," Clapton once said.

It was the physical embodiment of rock's power and majesty - a wall of black, vinyl-clad cabinets, one atop the other, crowned with a rectangular box containing the innovative circuitry that revolutionized the music. This was the famed Marshall stack, the amplification gear that has dominated rock stages since its introduction in the early 1960s, bestowing on guitarists the ability to achieve unprecedented volume and controlled distortion. From the Who, Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix in the 1960s on through Peter Frampton, Van Halen, AC/DC, Motley Crue, Guns N' Roses and Nirvana in succeeding decades, the cursive "Marshall" emblazoned on the speakers has served as an inescapable backdrop signature.

The pirate at the end of the bar is absorbed in a game of chance, tapping at a video-game console through virtual dice, cards, puzzles and music trivia between sips of bourbon and Coke. Lemmy Kilmister, the iconic frontman for the hard-rock band Motörhead, feeds more money into the machine. "You win some, you lose some, it's all the same to me," he says with a grin, quoting his own song "Ace of Spades. " This is a favorite pastime for the man in black, spending another afternoon and evening at the Rainbow Bar & Grill, his neighborhood pub on the Sunset Strip.

Dick Clark, the youthful-looking television personality who literally introduced rock 'n' roll to much of the nation on "American Bandstand" and for four decades was the first and last voice many Americans heard each year with his New Year's Eve countdowns, died Wednesday. He was 82. Clark died after suffering a heart attack following an outpatient procedure at St. John's Health Center in Santa Monica, according to a statement by his longtime publicist, Paul Shefrin. Clark's health had been in question since a 2004 stroke affected his speech and mobility, but that year's Dec. 31 countdown was the only one he missed since he started the annual rite during the Nixon years.

Jon Huntsman toured Manchester's Elm Street with Mayor Ted Gatsas -- trying some old-fashioned retail politicking in his campaign to be the Republican presidential nominee. After seeing drums in the window of a music store, Huntsman popped in and tried his hand on the keyboard. There were only a handful of voters but nearly a dozen reporters. He took over from a man who was trying out a keyboard toward the front of the store. "How are you? I'm Jon Huntsman. I'm running for president," Huntsman said.

Jon Huntsman, to quote one Eric Clapton, has a rock 'n' roll heart. "My initial passion in life was to be a rock 'n' roll musician," the possible GOP presidential candidate told graduates at the University of South Carolina--an early primary state if you're scoring at home--on Saturday. "In my late teens you wouldn’t have recognized me. My hair was Rod Stewart shaggy; I wouldn’t wear anything but super skinny jeans," he said. "I ended up leaving high school a bit short of graduation to play with a band called Wizard.

It's one of the most enduring rock 'n' roll clichés: Fame slips away from an aging band, so its members go abroad and discover a whole new fan base, becoming "big in Japan. " Photographer Brad Elterman is very familiar with the way this works, having shot rock bands back in the 1970s and '80s. But then he went to Japan, and it happened to him too. The L.A.-based shutterbug, whose early life loosely mirrors that of the main character in Cameron Crowe's "Almost Famous," just returned from an exhibition of his work in a group show at Tokyo's trendy Tabloid gallery, where 300 or so fans, many of whom follow the Sherman Oaks-born artist's work via his Tumblr page, turned up last week.

Dick Clark, the youthful-looking television personality who literally introduced rock 'n' roll to much of the nation on "American Bandstand" and for four decades was the first and last voice many Americans heard each year with his New Year's Eve countdowns, died Wednesday. He was 82. Clark died after suffering a heart attack following an outpatient procedure at St. John's Health Center in Santa Monica, according to a statement by his longtime publicist, Paul Shefrin. Clark's health had been in question since a 2004 stroke affected his speech and mobility, but that year's Dec. 31 countdown was the only one he missed since he started the annual rite during the Nixon years.

Seconds before showtime, the DJ took his place before the bank of monitors, switches and dials. He took a deep breath, a light flickered on above the door. Waffles was on the air. "It's the best in rock!" he said into the mike. "Let's start things off right!" With that, he kicked off a rollicking two hours on Mt. Rock Radio, the student-run station at Mt. San Antonio College. Howling guitars and heart-pounding percussion pulsed through the airwaves. The spiky-haired host, zinging with frenetic energy, drummed his fingers to the beat and sang along as he worked the boards and set up the playlist — Thin Lizzy, Joan Jett, the Ramones.

When the Hives last played the Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival, the appearance could have been considered a victory lap for the band. It was 2003, and the practitioners of lean, fashionable rock 'n' roll had a year earlier seen their air-guitar-ready scolder "Hate to Say I Told You So" crack the top-100 on the U.S. pop charts. The success of the song ultimately led the band to a multi-album global deal with Universal Music U.K. said to be worth seven figures. Rock 'n' roll, it seemed, had been very, very good to the Hives.

Gene Simmons knows a thing or two about night life, and now he has a new gig: bar owner. The KISS leader is one of three principals behind the recently remodeled, music-focused craft beer spot Rock & Brews, and keeping his attention at one of its outdoor bar stools is no easy task. Two sentences into explaining why chefs are the new rock stars, a pair of onlookers capture Simmons' eye. He stops the interview, and waves two young women into the sidewalk-adjacent El Segundo beer garden.

It was the physical embodiment of rock's power and majesty - a wall of black, vinyl-clad cabinets, one atop the other, crowned with a rectangular box containing the innovative circuitry that revolutionized the music. This was the famed Marshall stack, the amplification gear that has dominated rock stages since its introduction in the early 1960s, bestowing on guitarists the ability to achieve unprecedented volume and controlled distortion. From the Who, Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix in the 1960s on through Peter Frampton, Van Halen, AC/DC, Motley Crue, Guns N' Roses and Nirvana in succeeding decades, the cursive "Marshall" emblazoned on the speakers has served as an inescapable backdrop signature.

Sean Bonniwell, lead singer and songwriter of the Music Machine, a 1960s Los Angeles band regarded as one of the most original of the garage-punk era, has died. He was 71. Bonniwell died Dec. 20 of lung cancer at a medical center in Visalia, Calif., said a spokesman for the Tulare County coroner. A former folk singer, Bonniwell was recognized as the chief force behind the band that honed its sound during a regular gig at Hollywood Legion Lanes bowling alley. The group's one big hit was "Talk Talk," a proto-punk single that broke into the Top 20 in 1966.

"The Perfect Age of Rock 'n' Roll" — the title refers to the so-called 27 Club of musicians — arrives with eerie timing, so soon after the death of troubled vocalist Amy Winehouse. But that's not to say it's resonant or believable. With drugs, sex and betrayal, the road-trip drama — essentially the story of a superstar and the hometown bandmate he left behind — gathers up every rock-saga requisite, and throws in Route 66 for good mythologizing measure. Some grace notes and riffs ring true, but mainly it plays like a familiar tune on a broken record.

Time to lace up your running shoes, Angelenos, and maybe grab a guitar. The Rock 'n' Roll half-marathon is coming this fall. The Rock 'n' Roll marathon and half-marathon series , now in 14 cities across the country, has a reputation for being one of the … less serious races. Sure, there are top-notch competitors and dedicated runners who do the course, but the presence of live bands, cheerleaders and entertainment at the finish line brings a distinctive party atmosphere to the event.

Jim Ladd can drop rock-star names like nobody's business — no surprise considering music's been his business for four decades. Or it had been until late last month when the new owners of L.A. rock radio station KLOS-FM (95.5) gave the boot to Ladd, who had been holding court behind a microphone there for the last 14 years. And that was just his latest stint at the station. Ladd logged a total of 20 years during three separate tours of rock 'n' roll radio duty at KLOS. A fixture on the Southern California airwaves, Ladd also chalked up nine years at the defunct station KMET-FM before it dumped rock for an easy-listening format dubbed "The Wave," as well as time at L.A.'s short-lived KEDG-FM ("The Edge")

Few longtime pop music critics have been as fearlessly unhip in both their likes and dislikes, have been so willing to accept oft-ignored music on its own terms and have been as rock 'n' roll as Chuck Eddy, writer, former Village Voice music editor, self-described curmudgeon, ex-Army captain and hair-metal expert. Eddy's work is compiled in "Rock and Roll Always Forgets: A Quarter Century of Music Criticism," a career overview whose very title is contrarian: The writer's got a problem with the premise of Bob Seger's hit song "Rock and Roll Never Forgets.