Sunset Strip’s hip are go-going elsewhere

The girl in the glass tank at the Standard lobby is looking needy.

When the boutique hotel opened a decade ago, quickly becoming a hipster haven on the Sunset Strip, everyone talked about the models in the see-through box -- a sort of immobile go-go girl who could always be counted on to be too cool to acknowledge the presence of people outside her rectangular world.

But two hours before last call on a recent Saturday, she looks starved for attention, staring directly at the trickle of customers crossing the velvet rope.

They would join a decidedly tame evening.

The poolside lounge with its modern furniture and glittery skyline view was more than half-empty. A DJ struggled to mix hip-hop into 1980s new wave. The majority of the patrons looked like they were old enough to drink when new wave was new.

And it was just quiet enough to notice a couple getting intimate in their brightly lighted second-floor guest room. When the man emerged a few minutes later on his balcony shirtless, cigarette in hand, everyone clapped.

The Sunset Strip has long served as ground zero for the unapologetically hip, beautiful and ironic. It’s what allows a place like the Standard to sell 40-ounce bottles of malt liquor in brown paper bags for $12.

But the longtime undisputed center of L.A. night life is now getting a run for its money from Hollywood to the east.

“There’s definitely more to do in Hollywood,” said Brent Bolthouse, one of L.A.’s premier club promoters. “You go up and down the street and you suddenly see two to three thousand more kids coming there. The Cahuenga corridor is exciting. All those dive bars are cleaned up. The architecture is there, the venues are there.”

The Sunset Strip still packs them in. But concerns about the district losing its edge -- or dare say “maturing” -- have been the subject of much discussion by West Hollywood officials and business leaders in recent months.

They have proposed giving the boulevard a face-lift with new street furniture. There is also talk of a new branding campaign that would focus on the glory days when glamorous night clubs such as the Mocambo and Trocadero drew Tinseltown’s elite and top talent agents held court inside the boulevard’s signature Colonial-style office buildings. Not to mention the era of rock ‘n’ roll on the Sunset Strip that left an indelible mark on pop culture.

Already, the city has “branded” the section of Sunset Boulevard within its boundaries as the Sunset Strip, complete with street banners that say “Sunset Strip -- Only in West Hollywood.”

The city is now waiting for consultants to come back with plans for how to better market the Strip.

“We’re seeing more competition,” said Jeffrey Huffer, West Hollywood’s economic development project administrator. “We have to stay cutting edge.”

But hipness is a delicate balance -- and the last thing West Hollywood wants is for the Strip to, well, go Hollywood.

“We absolutely don’t want the Disneyfication of West Hollywood,” quickly added Huffer. “We don’t want stars on the sidewalk.”

A disappointment

In figuring out how to fix the Strip, officials are realizing that they are struggling against the weight of history.

Alex Rentumis and his buddies were hiking up the boulevard near Doheny Drive hoping for a final lesson in rock ‘n’ roll education.

Months after leaving Boston for good, the 25-year-old musician and two of his bandmates stood outside the Whiskey a Go Go, a club they revered for its place in rock music history. They came to see one of their favorite thrash metal acts, Napalm Death.

“This place is legendary, we’ve heard so much about it,” said Rentumis, who moved to Los Angeles in hopes of catching a break for his own metal band, Trinity Test.

But the experience didn’t live up to expectations.

Rentumis was shocked by the price of drinks and entertainment -- $23 to watch the band -- and by the bossy bouncers on the velvet rope. At another ‘60s landmark, the Rainbow Bar and Grill, he found “a bunch of yuppies” in smart button-down shirts instead of fellow rockers.

“We definitely missed it,” he said, dejected.

He soon checked out the scene in Hollywood.

Under the sun a few days later, lifelong Sunset Strip denizen Marc Wanamaker felt much the same way.

Wanamaker -- nephew of the late actor and director Sam Wanamaker -- grew up just off the boulevard, attending elementary school near Doheny Drive and Sunset. Once a week, he brought a handwritten note from his parents that gave him permission to leave school for lunch at Hamburger Hamlet up the road.

There, Wanamaker would sit outdoors and gaze at the likes of Dean Martin and other celebrities who frequented the restaurant.

He’s become the closest thing to the Strip’s official historian and believes that the contemporary Sunset doesn’t live up to the past.

“There’s nothing to distinguish the Sunset Strip now,” Wanamaker said during a recent stroll down the street. “There’s nothing unusual going on that will make history. There’s a whole new type of crowd. I wouldn’t call them yuppies. I don’t know what they are. The people who go to the Standard who have money, tattoos and fancy cars. The music? It’s like hip corporate. Whatever hip means.”

During its storied histories, the Strip has seen its share of ups and downs. The rock and hippie scenes of the late 1960s and early 1970s was followed by what many consider years of decline in the 1980s. The most recent boom occurred in the 1990s with the establishment of the House of Blues, the Standard, the Key Club and other upscale attractions.

West Hollywood officials are quick to point out that the Strip remains unrivaled for high-end night life and that tax revenue remains strong.

But they also know that hipness is a fickle thing -- and something that needs to be treated just right.

“We need to come up with something tasteful and not too processed,” said City Councilman Jeffrey Prang. “We have a lot of precious history. But how you capture that, I have no idea.”

Prang pointed to several other onetime hot spots that have cooled.

“Westwood used to be the place to be. Then they had some unfortunate gang crime and it emptied out,” he said. “We realize things can change overnight. We can’t rest on our laurels.”

Battling boulevards

Hollywood’s much-chronicled rise into night life powerhouse after decades of decline has sparked something of a rivalry between the two boulevards.

West Hollywood types like to say Hollywood -- despite the weekend gridlock of young people -- is down market, kids from the suburbs wanting a taste of the big city and college kids out for binge drinking.

Hollywood types see their crowd as young, hip, diverse and, well, authentic. They view the Sunset Strip as overpriced, snooty and aging.

“We avoid cologne dudes and button shirts,” said Ana Calderon, describing who she lets into the parties her record label holds Tuesday nights at the Hollywood Boulevard club Cinespace.

The scene on a recent night at the club was definitely a departure from the Standard -- hundreds of young adults sported styles that evoked rock, punk, hip-hop, new wave, techno and glam. No one looked much older than 21. On a sticky dance floor, DJ Aoki -- the son of the Benihana restaurant chain founder -- was rinsing out a song by British rapper Lady Sovereign when a brawl erupted and twisted its way around, knocking over drinks and felling several people.

Of course, the brawl just underscores what West Hollywood boosters say about their night-clubbing neighbor to the east.

The rap on rap

On a recent Saturday night, a group of friends enjoying a $320 “bottle service” at the Boa lounge in the Grafton Hotel were blunt about why they chose the Strip over Hollywood for their night-clubbing.

“Hollywood is ghetto,” said Ryan Decamillis, a 25-year-old financial analyst.

His friend, Richard McGuire, concurred.

“When we walked in here, Stevie Wonder was playing. You never hear that,” said McGuire, a 40-year-old attorney from Riverside.

“Hollywood is all rap,” Decamillis said.

Even the tattoo parlors on the Strip see themselves as a cut above.

Danny Weil, a 17-year veteran of the body art, works at Tattoo Mania on the same block as Whiskey a Go Go. The rail thin Weil says his work is favored by hip-hop stars and proves it with pictures of him and Suge Knight on the wall.

“We have established, upper-class clientele,” said Weil, 49, whose own tattoos creep up the back of his neck under a T-shirt that says “Hustler For Life.”

“People go to Hollywood to look for a bargain,” Weil said. “I’m glad people are making a distinction. I’m glad we’re considered upper crust. If you want something cheap looking, go to Hollywood.”

david.pierson@latimes.com