Hollywood Consumers Guide

1. Rainbow Bar & Grill

2. Pinks

3. Tommys

4. Brown Derby

5. Ports

6. Studio Grill

7. Source

8. Martonis

9. Tanas

10. Rodneys

11. Whisky A Go Go

12. Roxy

13. Troubadour

14. Palomino

15. Starwood

16. Continental Hyatt House

17. Ramada Inn

18. Sunset Marquis

19. Tropicana

20. Beverly Wilshire

21. Beverly Hills

22. Beverly Hilton

23. Chateau Marmont

Hollywood Consumers Guide

Clubs by Ben Edmonds

RODNEY BINGENHEIMER S ENGLISH DISCO (7561 Sunset Blvd. 876-9170) Accounts of the atrocities committed here are all over this Hollywood spread, leading to only one conclusion: this is a-place you must go. . . at least once.

WHISKY A GO GO (8901 W. Sunset. (213) 652-4202.) In pre-Rodney’s days, this was where the flash-trash congregated. But it’s where nearly everything happening happened over the years: from Johnny Rivers through the Byrds through the Mothers and now to the Hollywood Stars. Though it’s now frequented mostly by tourists (except on record company-sponsored opening nights), it remains the place to catch acts on the way up. Which is where the action is, anyway.

TROUBADOUR (9081 Santa Monica Blvd. 276-6168.) The denim equivalent of the amped-up Whisky, Doug Weston’s nitery has launched as many ships (mostly acoustic) and will likely last as long. Monday night “hoots” may not have produced that many stars, but most of the action’s in the bar anyway. Most recent notoriety as the place where you can see popstars getting tossed out like normal people; among them John Lennon, Harry Nilsson and Brian Wilson.

ROXY (9009 W. Sunset. 878-2222.) Originally conceived as a place for the biggies to re-establish eye contact with their audience, it then became a showcase for the black and the unusual (though you’ll still find an occasional Three Dog Night or Joe Cocker spotlighted). Probably the best room in the city for music, but it still hasn’t inspired an ongoing ambience worthy of its concept.

PALOMINO (6907 Lankershim. 765-9256.) Where Hollywood cowboys mingle with the real thing (usually from the Valley) to the strains of the best country music available. Demanding audience, comfortable atmosphere1; you’d hardly , think it possible for Hollywood. Surprise!

STARWOOD (9151 Santa Monica Blvd. 656-2200.) Formerly PJ’s, and God knows what else in between. Despite its sleaze and lowest-common denominator clientele, it’s nonetheless a viable venue once again. It’s a place to hang out, and the music is almost exclusively local (which is good for the scene at large).

TIDBITS: Among the better off-the-beatentrack clubs are the GOLDEN BEAR (300 Pacific Coast Highway, Huntington Beach. (714) 536-9600) which serves the occasionally flourishing Orange County scene (Jackson Browne, Tim Buckley), and McCABE’S GUITAR SHOP. (3101 Pico Blvd., Santa Monica. 828-4497) whose cozy backroom atmosphere draws an occasional notable. Latest word has the LIGHTHOUSE (30 Pier Ave., Hermosa Beach. 372-6911), a jazz venue of long standing, booking in Rick Springfield and beyond that who knows.

Hotels by Richard Cromelin

SUNSET MARQUIS (1200 Alta Loma Rd. 657-1333. Bachelors, $21 /day; studios, $25/ day; 1-bedrooms, $30/day). Sedate, apartment house/motel atmosphere. Occasionally, but not heavily, utilized by rockers — Bette Midler (on her first tour), Wishbone Ash, Ten Years After, Incredible String Band. Management has been pretty down on rock bands since Neil Young’s group tore the place up.

RAMADA INN (8775 Sunset Blvd. 652-0030. Single, $14-$18/day; double, $16-$24/day; suites^ available). About as low as the Tropicana (Q.V.), but without the latter’s character and charm. Awful coffee shop. Slade and the Dolls stayed here their first times around (the Dolls were thrown out). Sylvester always stayed at Ramada’s because his manager’s father (George Gobel) is the firm’s major stockholder.

THE BEVERLY HILLS (9641 Sunset Blvd. 276-2251. Single, $43-47/ day; double, $47-$51/day; suites, $88-$200/day). The history-laden hostelry of Hollywood’s greats (remember Gregory Peck and Lauren Bacall cavorting around the pool in Designing Woman?) doesn’t encourage the rock clientele (rigid policy concerning noise, appearance, et al.), but has seen fit to host, among others, Bowie, Midler, Leo Sayer, Roy Wood, Elton John, Elliott Murphy, Bryan Ferry and Lisa Robinson.

THE BEVERLY WILSHIRE (9500 Wilshire Blvd. 275-4282. Single, $38/day; double, $46 /day; suites, $65-$95/day). Venerable, stately, old-school hotel that has prospered from stays by the Stones, John Lennon, David Essex, Faces, Legs Larry Smith, Paul McCartney, et. al.

THE BEVERLY HILTON (9876 Wilshire Blvd. 274-7777. Single, $29-$39/day; double, $39-$48/day; suites, $84/day and up). The most modern of the three BH hotels. Among its rock guests have been Yes, Uriah Heep, Alan Price; for some reason the Dolls showed up here after their Ramada ban. Richard Nixon sleeps here (he tries anyway).

THE TROPICANA (8585 Santa Monica Blvd. 652-5720. Single, $10.55/ day; double, $13.73/ day; suites, $18.02/ day and up). Tacky motor-hotel, formerly owned by Sandy Koufax. The lowest, it usually entertains those starting at the bottom or who have settled not far from there (financially speaking) — the Persuasions, Dan Hicks, Fairport Convention, Ian Matthews, the Doors (in the early days), Iggy. Duke’s, the coffee shop, is terrific — great food, low prices, and they’ll invariably put you at a long table with out-of-work actors gossiping about producers and directors, record-biz hustlers or plain old West Hollywood eccentrics.

CHATEAU MARMONT (8221 W. Sunset Blvd. 656-1010. One-bedroom apartments, $22/day, $600/month; two-bedroom apartments, $45/day, $750/month; bungalows, $60/day, $ 1200/month). From its windows, Myra Breckenridge watched the showgirl spin slowly atop her Las Vegas billboard. More film people — Tony Perkins. Donald Cammel (Performance), Jodorowski — than rock ’n’ rollers enjoy its -air of arty, decaying Hollywood, but Suzi Quatro stayed there recently, Denny Cordell lived there for a while and Led Zeppelin ripped it up in. a bungalow on their second tour.

THE CONTINENTAL HYATT HOUSE (8401 Sunset Blvd. 656-4101. Single, $22-$27/day; double, $29-$34/day; suites, $75-$100/day). The Continental Hyatt House was undisputed king (or rather, the palace of the many kings) when would-be popstar Bobby Jameson sought to illustrate and purge his plight by threatening to leap from its roof. It was an ideal platform for his dramatics in terms of visiblity, but if it was a symbol of the repressive music business or the sad lot of musicians he wanted, he should have hitchhiked on up to the Capitol Tower. For no institution in recent times has been so kind to rock ’n’ roll musicians, served them so well and catered to their every need, as the beloved CHH, the true focal point, the site of the ultimate outcome of all the preliminary jockeying at the Rainbow, Rodney’s and Whisky, the place where the final rewards were granted, where the winners gloated and at which bitter losers would spit from their cars as they drifted off to sulk at Denny’s coffee shop.

It used to be owned by Gene Autry, before the Hyatt chain took over. God knows he never would have allowed things to get the way they did — that lobby looking like an audition for Star Magazine (R.I.P) models and buzzing with the numbers of the hot floors of the night. (“Zeppelin’s on eight. There’s a guard by the elevator, but he knows me.” Wink), the odor of burning weed seeping under the doors, young naiads prancing, daintily or otherwise, clothed or barely so, from room to room, from lead singer to roadie.

But the CHH policy was tolerant, and most activity could easily be overlooked. It was a rare and enlightened attitude, one that refused to accept the paranoid image-fantasy that rock ’n’ roll musicians’ true aim in life was to destroy hotels. There was a determination to treat them as people^ and it worked. There has been no excessive damage to the premises (probably no more than, say, at a_ Holiday Inn in Des Moines), and the Hyatt has entertained virtually every rock ’n’ roller you’d care to name. For all the hip putdowns, there are few rockers on the road without a soft spot for the CHH. It wasn’t the Beverly Hills, and it didn’t want to be.

But now it might. Or something like it. It’s trying to change, its image, to fit the demands of its world-wide, pretending-to-class parent corporation, and rock ’n’ roll is being deemphasized, musicians are being phased out, the pullout is in full swing. Today the Continental Hyatt House is a once-mighty monarch whose powers and position are visibly weakening, but whose days of glory are still close enough in time and whose legend is still strong enough in the minds of its subjects to maintain, as if by stubborn centrifugal force, its role as the number-one rock ’n’ roll hotel of Hollywood, indeed of the world. Whatever establishment attempts to take over the job will have to fill some big and well-broken-in shoes. Preferably platform, glitter and sequins optional.

Restaurants by Colman Andrews

RAINBOW BAR AND GRILL (9015 W. Sunset. 278-4232). Is one of the more luminous of the artificially-lit bright spots on the west end of the Sunset Strip. It’s next door to the Roxy (currently home of “The Rocky Horror Show,” and otherwise known as the club that was supposed to wipe out the Troubadour, but of course didn’t), and a managable uphill stumble from the Whisky.

The Rainbow is a restaurant of sorts, a bar of other sorts, and a hang-out par excellence; the Rainbow is also a monument to Rock Capitalism in the early 70s. It was Qriginally conceived by Bob Gibson, Last Press Agent Before the Freeway and probably the most important and influential music-biz P.R. nabob in the world. He gathered together a group of friends and/or associates as fellow investors in the project. These included his partner Gary Stromberg, manager extraordinaire Roy Silver, P.R.-tist colleagues like Mike Ochs (Columbia, Shelter) and Corb Donahue (ABC-Dunhill, Costa Rica), Bob Regher of Warner Brothers and The World of Fine Art, Ode Records honcho Lou Adler, attorney Red Flyer, and Elmer Valentine and Mario Somethinglongandltaliano (who own the Whiskey and most of the rest of the Sunset Strip).

The Rainbow was planned mainly as a hang-out for the record industry and as a place to hold press parties. “We were tired of getting fucked over by other places,” Gibson says, “and decided to fuck ourselves over instead.” Fucked-over Gibson sold out his interest last year; few if any of the original partners remain.

But the Rainbow remains. Home of the burnt-out and the still-glowing, and of course the fledgling incandescent. One can eat at the Rainbow. Can one eat well? Well? It ain’t no goormay paradise, kid, and it ain’t supposed to be. I mean, Jim Croce sat right over there a few times and Elton John’s been in here in sunglasses, no matter how dark it might be. You expect tournedos Rossini tool

Upstairs is a membership-only club called — what else? — Over The Rainbow, which caters to popstars, record execs and anybody else from downstairs who can somehow talk their way in (not easy; they’ve been known to turn away the likes of John Entwistle). But even if you can’t get in upstairs, there’s always an eyefull at the bar or eating dinner. Either way, you can’t miss.

The places mentioned below are rated Cheap ($l-34o stuff your face), Medium ($-6 t.s.y.f.), and Expensive ($7-12 t.s.y.f.), with one group identified as Forget It, which means somebody else better be picking up the tab, unless you managed to unload all of Daddy’s Alcoa stock before you clambered onto the Greyhound for the Coast. Prices are average — neither minimum nor maximum — and do not include alcohol, though personally I can’t imagine eating lunch or dinner without alcohol (except at the Cheap places, maybe), no matter who or what you’re there for.

CHEAP

PINKS. (711 N. La Brea. 9314223.) All beef hot dogs. Disgustingly good chili dogs (with onions, etc.) a specialty. Greasy elegance, L.A. style. The cops love it too.

TOMMYS. (2575 Beverly Boulevard. 389-9060.) The town’s most famous burgers. Whole busloads of rock writers have been known to stop here on their way home from the wrestling matches.

MEDIUM

THE BROWN DERBY. (1628 Vine Street. 469-5151.) Walking distance from Capitol and Columbia and from where Atlantic used to be. All your favorite stars are depicted on. the walls of the Record Room. Stars like Rosemary Clooney, Bing Crosby... The Brown Derby Coffee Shop immediately adjacent has terrific non-au then tic, non-spicy chili.

PORTS. (7205 Santa Monica Boulevard. 874-6294.) The literary capital of L.A. Local Rolling Stone staffers, fading Andy Warhol superstars, beautiful female refugees from Gibson & Stromberg (see above), real-life screenwriters and film producers, the Hathaway Shirt man, and Eve Babitz, too. Van Dyke Parks comes in now and again. And good food. (Watercress and cheese pie, chicken mole, deep-fried oysters... And worldfamous nymphomaniacs have been known to proclaim that the brandy-cream pie is better than orgasm.)

THE STUDIO GRILL. (7321 Santa Monica Boulevard. 874-9202.) Half-owned by the owner of Ports. More good food. Slightly more expensive. Donald Sutherland comes three nights a week when he’s in town, Whoever he is. Lawrence Durrell likes the taramasalata.

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THE SOURCE. (8301 Sunset Boulevard. 656-6388.) Lots of healthy stuff. Salads, mostly. No booze. (Plenty of boos!) Smoking - even tobacco, or maybe especially tobacco - is frowned upon. Nice weather for rabbits. Loads of record biz people temporarily on the organic wagon. Men in white coats, ethereal young women, on the natural. And Sky Saxon (leader of the Seeds) is the dishwasher.

EXPENSIVE

MARTONI’S. (1523 Cahuenga. 466-3441.) A decade ago, give or take a generation, (i.e., 1965), Sonny Bono got kicked out of Martoni's for having long hair. He went home and wrote the first bubble-gum protest song, “Laugh At Me.” Today, in 1974, we are. And there are more long-hairs in Martoni’s than you could shake a shtick at. Pretty good Italian food if they know you; the same old stuff if they don’t. This is where the underassistant-West-Coast promo men go in the evenings to belt down a few in order to straighten up from lunch.

TANAS. (9071 Santa Monica Boulevard. 275-9444.) See above for comments on the food. The bar is the big thing here. Continually packed with adventurers and adventuresses of all sexes and intents. The Croatian bartender positively glows if you order slivovitz, but if you don’t know what it is, don’t order it. If it’s what you’re after, you can probably get picked up by somebody here sooner or later. Especially hot on Tuesdays, which is opening night, at the Troubadour next door.

FORGET IT

AU PETIT CAFE, (1230 Vine Street. 469-3388) LE RESTAURANT, 8475 Melrose Place, 651-5553) and LE ST. GERMAIN, 5959 Melrose Avenue, 467-1108.) These are the big time. All French and varyingly snooty and varyingly good. Mainly the upper echelon of record company executives, advertising agency people, film biz (senior league), etc. Occasional record company parties at Le St. Germain, occasional Cary Grants at Le Restaurant, occasional contretemps at Au Petit Cafe. (Ask Sergio Mendes why he can’t go there anymore.) When you can eat at one of these once or twice a week, it’s time to cancel your subscription to CREEM and start reading BARRONS. 9