Oldies Clubs Turn Back Clock to Rock

I can mash potato

I can do the twist

Well now tell me, baby

Do you like it like this?

--”Do You Love Me (Now That I Can Dance),” 1962

At 11 p.m. one Saturday night more than 75 people were lined up in front of Popcorns bar in Marina del Rey. The crowd, most in their 20s, waited 45 minutes to get to the front door, then paid a $5 cover charge to enter the cavernous club.

Most of them had come for the music. But it wasn’t just to hear Michael Jackson or Prince. Blasting from the main bar’s speakers, luring crowds of sweaty but determined dancers to the checkerboard floor, were the decades-old songs of performers like Little Richard, the Beatles and the Beach Boys.

Some of the dancers twisted. A few jitterbugged. Except for the women’s designer jeans and the men’s $30 haircuts, the scene looked like a replay from an earlier era. But the crowded dance floor also said a lot about the present.

Oldies hits are making a comeback. Popcorns--which saw its business grow by more than 50% after it converted to an oldies format last summer--is one of a handful of Westside bars capitalizing on the latest wave of nostalgia for early rock ‘n’ roll. Oldies hangouts are also gaining popularity nationwide--be they chains of dance clubs like Confetti’s and Studebaker’s or of malt shop-restaurants like the Hard Rock Cafe and Bentley’s 49, both of which have Westside locations.

The Cavern Club

The California Jukebox Club in West Los Angeles rarely plays anything recorded after 1970. Hollywood’s Continental Club enjoys its biggest business on Fridays, when it becomes the Crush Bar and offers soul music from the 1960s. On Wednesdays, the bar is called the Jailhouse, with a menu of 1950s music. Another Hollywood bar called the Cavern Club is patterned after a 1960s-style disco.

Popcorns on Lincoln Boulevard is part of a Florida-based chain once called Flanigan’s. Club manager Steven Mayer said all of the chain’s locations have done better business since switching to the oldies format. “It seems to be one of the latest fads as far as drinking establishments go,” he said. “A lot of people seem to like the music. In fact they complain that we don’t play enough of it.”

Mayer said Popcorns, a 15,000-square-foot building that holds more than 600 people, frequently reaches capacity. To maintain order the bar employs more than 40 people on busy nights, including several large bouncers.

Free Cab Rides

Because of the recent crackdown on drunk driving, the club is starting to offer non-alcoholic wines and beers and free cab rides home for people who have had too much to drink, said chain official Greg Stewart.

With its soda shop motif, bold colors and bright lighting, however, Popcorns looks more like a high school hangout from the days of Ricky Nelson and Wally Cleaver than a serious drinking establishment. Patrons can sit at a huge wrap-around bar, but most choose the small tables that are served by waitresses dressed as cheerleaders. The walls are decorated with life-sized blow-ups of pop idols such as James Dean and Marilyn Monroe, and a neon sign on one side of the club welcomes visitors to the “Be Bop Cafe.”

A second-story dance floor--equipped with smoke machines, confetti blasters, strobe lights and mirrors--plays new music and caters to a later-arriving crowd. But the first floor best captures the spirit of the club, which advertises itself as a “fundrinkery.”

Young professionals dominated the bar at one recent Friday happy hour. The bar was quiet early. But by 6 p.m., with the last of the day’s light peeking through the windows, well-dressed couples were dancing to familiar numbers like the Isley Brothers’ “Shout” and Elvis Presley’s “Jailhouse Rock.”

Motown and Beatles Hits

The next night found the dance floor filled with a younger crowd, dancing wildly to a medley of Motown and Beatles hits. Karl Del Rio, a 23-year-old Popcorns regular, and his date waited in line to get into the club. Later, the two spent most of the night dancing to songs that were recorded when they were infants.

“I think I was born a few years too late,” Del Rio said between songs. “This is much more fun than dancing to the new stuff. It’s happier music.”

The California Jukebox Club, situated in a historic building at Barrington Avenue and National Boulevard, also is part of a national chain. The moderate-sized club attracts a crowd of people in their 30s and 40s, most of whom come to dance to a deafening mix of 1950s and 1960s hits.

Jayson Ritter, Jimmy Sarubbi and Ann Labe--three self-described music lovers--opened the club last fall. Sitting in a cramped office above the bar, Ritter motioned toward pictures taken at a recent birthday party the club hosted for Little Richard. A big fan of early groups like the Coasters and the Platters, Ritter said he hoped to start alternating live music with records to further encourage the revival.

Memorabilia Abounds

Walking downstairs, Ritter conducted a quick tour of the memorabilia-laden club. Publicity stills of 1950s and 1960s movie stars cover several walls. Other walls are decorated with posters and album covers of rock stars like Elvis Presley and the Beatles. Near the center of the club is a dance cage with multicolored lights. Upon co-owner Sarubbi’s command, a waitress quickly occupied it.

“We just get older,” said Ritter, smiling at the dancing waitress. “We don’t forget. It’s like going around the circle one more time.”

On one recent Thursday, which the Jukebox Club calls “Swing Night,” the disc jockey booth, a converted 1959 black Cadillac, was manned by Kenny Wetzel, a professional dancer from the 1950s who claimed that good dancers make the best deejays. Proving Wetzel’s point, dancers packed the small floor as he segued from Wilbert Harrison’s “Kansas City” to a string of 1950s jitterbug numbers.

“This is the greatest physical and mental outlet in the world,” said Wetzel, who brings his own collection of more than 750 albums to his various record-spinning jobs. “You can’t be mad when you’re dancing.”

Wetzel’s manic show included a comic dance with a friend, actor Russ Courtney. Shortly afterward, Teddy McQuiston, a dancer and disc jockey who goes by the name “Ready Teddy,” cleared the floor with an impromptu break dance.

David Sarul, a Jukebox Club regular from West Los Angeles, looked as if he had stepped out of a steam bath after nearly an hour on the dance floor. Toweling himself off, Sarul said he goes to oldies clubs five to seven nights a week. “It’s physical and emotional enjoyment. For a person who doesn’t run or walk, dancing is probably the best heart stimulant.”

Also inside the bar that night was Ron Smith, the founder of Ron Smith’s Celebrity Look-Alikes, who had dropped by the club to arrange an appearance by one of his clients, a Chinese-American Elvis Presley impersonator.

Smith said the demand for his celebrity look-alikes from the 1950s and 1960s has grown as more oldies bars have opened. “This is a national thing right now,” said Smith, recounting visits to clubs around the country. “I don’t think there’s one major city that doesn’t have a 1950s or 1960s club. It’s a great concept. And the music is so loved it gives people a reason to go out.”

Another popular Friday night haunt is Hollywood’s Crush Bar on Cahuenga Boulevard. Run by a woman who calls herself Pamela Motown, the bar specializes in 1960s soul and rhythm and blues. Motown refused to be interviewed, but people familiar with the bar said it has done well with the 1960s format.

The expansive green bar is devoid of the kind of memorabilia found at the other clubs. With an interior done up in wood paneling and low cocktail lights, the club has an aged look. But, thanks to its Hollywood Boulevard-area location, it attracts mostly elaborately dressed people in their 20s.

On a recent Friday, the Crush Bar’s large parking lot was filled (several couples could be seen necking inside their cars), forcing late arrivals to park more than three blocks away. Still, the steady flow of customers continued well into the night.

“I don’t understand it,” said one bar worker who asked not to be identified when he discovered that Motown had refused an interview. “This is just a bunch of old music. But people here can’t get enough of it.”

Roger Steffens, a disc jockey at KCRW-FM radio in Santa Monica who recently started a 1960s program that airs Fridays at 2 p.m., speculated that people enjoy oldies because of the lively spirit of the times.

After just a few weeks on the air--his program includes music, commercials and newscasts from the 1960s--the response has been tremendous, Steffens said. After his first show, “the phones just wouldn’t stop ringing,” he said. “I must have had 50 or 60 calls. Everyone said this really ignites a lot of memories for us.”