It’s the Right Site but the Wrong Song

Pierce Rollins takes exception to my notion that the name Los Angeles does not lend itself to musical meter.

As I pointed out, you can hardly sing “Los Angeles, Los Angeles, it’s a wonderful town.” It just doesn’t sing.

Also, you can’t sing “I left my heart in Los Angeles,” or “Moon Over Los Angeles.”

My conclusion was that we will never have a song that evokes our city, the way those songs do New York, San Francisco and Miami, and songwriters might as well quit beating their heads against the keyboard trying to write one.

Rollins argues that I am trying to fit Los Angeles into the wrong songs. He gives some persuasive illustrations.

He points out that Los Angeles fits easily into “America the Beautiful,” which begins “Oh, beautiful for spacious skies.” He asks why not, “Los Angeles, Los Angeles, a city great and proud . . . “?

OK. That sings. But I don’t think a song about Los Angeles ought to attempt the grandeur of “America the Beautiful.”

He also suggests, “God bless Los Angeles, city we love,” to the tune of “God Bless America.”

Again, I think it is a bit presumptuous for Los Angeles to ask God’s blessing, considering our sinful nature.

If we squeeze the pronunciation a bit, he suggests, making it “Los An-jless,” we can sing it to “Columbia, the gem of the ocean”--”Los An-jless, a gem of a city . . . “

The closest Rollins comes to inspiration is in his suggestion that we can sing “It’s Los Angeles, the city that we call L.A.,” to the tune of “On the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe.”

Somehow I don’t think that fitting the name Los Angeles to hymns or patriotic anthems will capture the special ambiance of this city. Also, any lyrics that suggest pride are out. We can hardly take pride in our weather, which just is. And everything else we are comes from our weather.

Rather than expressing pride, a song seeking to evoke Los Angeles ought to mention those phenomena that make life special here: the smog, the polluted seashore, the littered sidewalks, the crowded freeways, the street crime, the high school dropout rate, the homeless, the sleaze, the decay, the high cost of housing, our failure to support libraries, our failing emergency hospital system, the general apathy.

On the other hand, we should be forgiven for singing of our relatively honest government, our uncorrupt police department, our splendid fire department, our excellent universities, our friendliness, our racial tolerance, our palms and jacarandas, our flowers, our sexual and religious freedom, our world championship baseball and basketball teams, our theater, our restaurants (which even Herb Caen admits are better than San Francisco’s), our sunshine, our good cheer, our outdoor life, and the annual UCLA-USC football game.

Rollins concludes: “I, too, take my hat off to Billy Barnes’ ‘L.A. Is,’ but as another writer of special material I am convinced it is possible for a ‘Los Angeles’ song to be written that is easily a match for ‘Moon Over Miami’ or ‘I Left My Heart in San Francisco.’ I may even take a shot at it.”

If any song about Los Angeles ever catches on, in the way that “New York, New York” has caught on as a theme song for that city, I am sure it will use the name “L.A.” rather than “Los Angeles,” which seems to fit only into hymns and anthems and which evokes a saintliness that we Angelenos do not deserve.

I can’t write music, but I’ll try some lyrics. How about:

L.A., I love your sleaze,

Your palms and jacaranda trees;

I love your Thai and Chinese food,

Your women, slim and semi-nude;

I love your outdoor barbecues,

Your California wines and booze,

Your weather, warm and sunny;

Your people, laid-back, funny;

I love your Trojans and your Bruins,

Your warm Decembers, cloudy Junes;

I love your kitsch, your con and hustle,

Your fads, your health, your muscle;

I love your freedom and your show;

L.A. you turn me on, you make me glow.

I wouldn’t be surprised if that could be sung to something by Mozart, or maybe Cole Porter.