COVER STORY : In Search of the Hottest Music in Town : L.A.’s storied rock clubs fizzled in the pay-to-play ‘80s, but today’s revitalized scene is thriving on a healthy dose of underground spirit

People in the audience at Jabberjaw, a small, kitsch-adorned club on Pico Boulevard in a dilapidated Midtown neighborhood, duck as bucketfuls of fried chicken and biscuits whiz past their heads.

The finger-lickin’ goods are being hurled by Southern Culture on the Skids, a bizarre trio from North Carolina that has found a niche in the underground rock scene by celebrating its white trash roots.

As a final drumstick slides greasily off a patron’s jacket, the band resumes playing, filling the club with intentionally wrong notes. Through it all, the audience does its best to look Jack Kerouac-cool, but is charmed enough to reward the band with loud applause at the end of its set.

A few miles away at Raji’s, a subterranean club near Hollywood and Vine, a frazzled blond named Beck sings, “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?” with his back to the audience. When he finished his set of acoustic-backed poetry on everything from squashed Twinkies to Walkmans, the crowd applauds, and he bows to the back wall before exiting the stage.

On the border of Beverly Hills, LunaPark is serving arty and eclectic entertainment--from drag queens to psychedelic duos--for the 90210 crowd. While a flamenco guitarist plays, a cameraman from a local TV station asks patrons whether drugs are making a comeback in upper-crust club culture. Two customers sip their mineral water thoughtfully before one replies, “I don’t know.”

These moments reflect the diversity and vitality of today’s revitalized Los Angeles rock club scene--a raw, creative environment that is rebounding after losing much of its edge in recent years.

The L.A. scene was born in the mid-’60s, when bands such as the Doors honed their skills at clubs on the Sunset Strip, and it escalated in the ‘70s as Los Angeles took over from New York as the commercial center of the pop world.

The record industry’s presence in Los Angeles initially enriched the club scene, as venues played host in the early ‘70s to such emerging acts as Jackson Browne, the Eagles and Van Halen, all of whom went on to significant success. But that commercial thrust ultimately proved a curse: By the end of the decade, clubs and rehearsal halls were filled with formulaic bands playing generic hard rock and sappy pop.

The real energy shifted underground, driven by an anti-Establishment credo that spawned what evolved into today’s alternative-rock scene. Bands from Black Flag and the Germs to X and the Blasters put into practice a “do-it-yourself” ethic by creating indie record labels and playing anywhere they could plug in an amp.

By the mid-’80s, glam bands such as Motley Crue, who made no bones about their aims for fame and fortune, took over the Strip and kicked off the big-hair rock trend. The L.A. scene then became known as a cheesy metal mecca until later in the decade, when Guns N’ Roses redeemed the city’s reputation temporarily. Punk/metal thrived at clubs like Riki Rachtman’s Cathouse and Dayle Gloria’s Scream.

With all these bands knocking at their door, Sunset Strip clubs such as Gazzarri’s, the Roxy, the Whisky and Troubadour introduced a controversial policy called “pay-to-play.” Bands now had to pay the club or promoter to play, as opposed to the venue paying them. The scene was no longer ruled by the best bands, but by the ones that could buy their way on stage.

Seeing the deterioration of the scene, musicians who might have once been drawn to Los Angeles to get a deal or just play to a bigger audience stayed in Seattle or San Diego and started their own scenes.

While this new generation of bands, from the critically adored Nirvana to hard-core purists Fugazi, carried on the spirit of L.A.’s underground club scene in their hometowns, bands began to protest outside the Sunset Strip clubs. By the early ‘90s, the pay-to-play venues were stagnant and dull, and new clubs with a rawer appeal began to spring up in converted office buildings and restaurants. Bands were again booked on merit rather than money.

Gazzarri’s went under as clubs like Raji’s and Jabberjaw became successful. The Whisky and Troubadour got wise in the past year and a half and have almost pulled away from the pay-to-play policies, re-emerging as more relevant venues. The majority of bands now playing these places come from around the country, but many are descendents of L.A.’s punk scene.

“The L.A. scene has really turned itself around by going underground again,” says Bill Holdship, editor of the nearly 20-year-old California rock magazine Bam. “Bands know that it’s the little coffeehouses and dives that have the credibility, and those are the best places to start. They’ve pumped life back into the city.” Adds Tom Carolan, an Atlantic Records A&R; executive who works with Stone Temple Pilots and the Lemonheads, “Musicians aren’t stupid any more. They respect the integrity of small places like Jabberjaw.”

Here are the 10 key clubs on the scene for bands and fans, picked for their calibre of acts and informal ambience. Some of them have been around for years, but even they seem re-energized by the back-to-basics spirit that infuses the music. They are where you can hear the best of the new music--from bands just breaking on MTV to bands just breaking out of the basement.

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Jabberjaw Coffeehouse and Art Gallery

3711 W. Pico Blvd.

Tuesday through Sunday.

Times vary. All ages.

Southern Culture on the Skids, drumsticks and all, is typical of the offbeat attractions that grace the stage of this funky, no-frills room, whose anonymous exterior is hardly distinguishable from the deserted storefronts that neighbor it.

The club has featured the garage-pop sounds of L7 as well as the petrifying dissonance of Courtney Love’s quartet Hole and the post-hard-core of Rocket From the Crypt--long before these bands were signed to major labels. Fiercely independent bands such as “riot grrrl” leaders Bikini Kill and the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion have also packed the long, narrow structure.

As Southern Culture plays, Jabberjaw employees serve coffee while they shake their beehive wigs and shimmy in stretch pants that Doris Day would have killed for. Paintings of big-eyed clowns and children stare sadly down at the alcohol-free coffee bar that faces the stage. A “Welcome Back Kotter” board game and KISS dolls are among the other kitsch items hanging on a wall that vibrates to the music.

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Fuzzyland

Call for location and dates.

(213) 969-1433. Over 21.

Chicago group Royal Trux grinds out anesthetized mutations of classic rock as singer Jennifer Herrema belts indecipherable lyrics from under her mass of tangled hair. The scene is Mr. T’s Bowl, a Highland Park bowling alley that the roving club Fuzzyland has taken over for the night. Unused lanes packed with junk lie behind the stage, and the clank of beer bottles replaces the crash of pins. The band’s dense noise is driving out the last of the bar’s daytime regulars, who delayed the Trux show by occupying the main floor to watch boxing on the big-screen TV.

Fuzzyland is a concept club that happens whenever creator Jac Zinder gets the inclination, which is usually twice a month and always on Saturday. It often runs with a theme--such as “the Evening of Dangerous Hicks,” pirate night and clown night--and patrons dress accordingly. Bands from England’s trance-masters Stereolab to L.A. feedback manipulators Medicine have played Fuzzyland, and Zinder complements the cutting-edge shows by spinning obscure dance records between and after the acts.

Tonight, under the low, sparkling, smoke-stained ceilings, a heavy-metal mime band and a country group headed by industrial-rock hellion Carla Bozulich open for Royal Trux. A late-night crowd dressed in everything from rotting leather gear to Levi’s to blue lame chaps has packed into the narrow hall that leads to the dance floor and stage.

“I book whatever I can throw together,” says Zinder, an L.A. native who started the club over a year ago. “If I can’t get an act, I’ll just make something up.” That’s when Zinder features off-the-wall acts such as the karaoke punk band the Worm Boys and performance artists who dress as teddy bears.

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The Auditorium

6356 Hollywood Blvd., Hollywood

Call for schedule. All ages.

It’s hard to imagine the beefy singer Tad Doyle, who heads the Seattle band called Tad, thundering around on the tiny, floor-level stage at the Auditorium, but he manages. The group, whose sound is as thick and weighty as its leader’s frame, is part of the stream of raw bands that keep the room’s mosh pit in motion.

Like Nirvana, Tad is a band that has gone from the hip, underground Sub Pop label to a major record company, but the Auditorium gig provides a low-profile chance for the group to return to its roots.

The second-story room, which used to house a beauty school, sits at the top of a wooden staircase near Hollywood and Vine. Inside, broken-down couches and chairs add to the grass-roots ambience of the club, which was put together by the transplanted British industrial-rock group Tunnelmental. It’s run strictly by the band and operates on the anyone-can-do-it spirit that fueled early punk-rock clubs.

The alcohol-free venue features mainly

local bands such as San Diego’s tribal percussion outfit Crash Worship, but also grabs whatever underground bands coming through town it can--from the Japanese noise group the Boredoms to the Mexican techno group Artefacto. Its unrestricted age policy allows kids to experience up-and-coming bands in an intimate setting.

“There’s always a part of me that wants to be an idiotic punk-rock rebel,” says Tunnelmental leader Bif. “Los Angeles needs a local scene. It lacks it because there’s so much competition and everything has this industry, showcase appeal. It takes all the art away from it.”

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LunaPark

665 N. Robertson Blvd.

West Hollywood

Open nightly. Times vary.

Age varies night to night.

Right off a ritzy stretch of Robertson, just above Melrose, Andy Palcaio plays a sweat-inducing strain of aggressive Calypso, charming the arty crowd in the stylish cellar of this intimate, upscale club. On another night, the atmospheric group Downy Mildew plays its moody, ambient rock, and Exene Cervenka sings her urban folk.

Eclecticism is the byword at this 5-month-old space, where three separate rooms offer an offbeat variety of entertainment for the goatee-and-beret crowd and the offspring of L.A.’s economically privileged. Dinner is served along with the entertainment in the main room of this spacious venue.

A large back room just opened, and owner-booker Jean-Pierre Boccara plans to feature everything from punk poet Henry Rollins to performance artist Ann Magnuson. Patrons can escape the music and hit the outside patio for a breather.

“There are, like, 10 words to describe L.A., starting with trendy , snobby and grungy ,” says Boccara, a Frenchman who used to run the equally arty but grittier Lhasa Club, and then the Largo on Fairfax. “We want to add new words to the old ones. We want to bridge the gaps not only between musical genres, but between stereotypes and age groups.”

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Sin-a-Matic

7969 Santa Monica Blvd.

West Hollywood

Saturday nights. Over 18.

Dark and lusty dance music fills Sin-a-Matic. Deejay Joseph is spinning rare, imported grooves for a leather-clad crowd. The previous week, the risque and showy dance band My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult performed.

This is one of the few venues in L.A. where you can catch the latest techno stars before they hit the major labels, or see industrial dance acts such as Ethyl Meatplow mix sexy, provocative stage antics with an addictive beat.

The three-room club also offers the delightfully obscure. Electronic noise pioneers Psychic TV and up-and-coming percussion-with-keyboards group Beat Mistress have moved booties across the club’s main dance floor.

This night, a young woman in a tight nurse’s uniform shakes her hips on the dance floor to the dark beat of the Revolting Cocks’ “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?” single. A middle-aged man with Pollyanna braids wearing only construction boots and a vertical strip of cloth jiggles to the driving sounds of Meat Beat Manifesto.

“We want to expose people to a lot of different things,” says Joseph Brookes, who runs Sin-a-Matic with his partner James Stone. “It’s too easy to always listen to the same thing. That’s why people come here, for a taste of the strange and new.”

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Highland Grounds

742 N. Highland Ave.

Open nightly, 9-12:30. All ages.

Offering a chance to sip top-notch java while watching acoustic music, Highland Grounds is a welcome rest stop between the feedback and noise of the Auditorium and the dark beat of Sin-a-Matic. It offers mostly amateur artists unplugged--from Chinese and Albanian groups to rockabilly and blues.

Many a guitar strum and earnest lyric--from the likes of country-rock heroine Rosie Flores to rock-spoofing Spinal Tap--have bounced off the high ceilings of the club, whose setting includes a small balcony area and a lush mini-jungle of a patio.

Funky, sculptured metal tables and chairs fill the bright space of the laid-back venue, while a large coffee and food bar churns out the joe. The food is actually edible (a rarity in the coffeehouse world), and dining among the patio’s numerous trees and tall plants somehow makes it all the more enticing.

“I’m always looking for the next Bob Dylan to walk in, but we’re mainly a neighborhood place, a place where locals can play,” says Rich Brenner, the club’s co-owner.

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Troubadour

9081 Santa Monica Blvd.

West Hollywood

Open nightly. Times vary.

All ages.

Liz Phair sings insightful and blunt lyrics about one-night stands, boring sex and sleazy guys. The jam-packed crowd hangs on every word from the latest underground rock star, and rightly so. The songwriter’s debut album is smart, raw and hard-hitting.

She’s just one in the string of many worthy acts that the Troubadour has booked in the last year. The 35-year-old club, on a high-rent stretch of Santa Monica Boulevard, is dumping its former image as a glam-metal club to change with the times.

The Troubadour once featured some of the best acts of the ‘60s and ‘70s, from Lenny Bruce to Joni Mitchell and Elton John. Doug Weston’s club then got into the metal scene in the ‘80s--and stayed there.

The club started picking up in the last few years, and while paintings of macho metal heroes such as Vince Neil and Jon Bon Jovi still decorate the main showroom, the club is taking steps in new directions by booking fresh independent and major-label alternative acts as well as respected folk artists. Some of the recent attractions include the Breeders, speed-core band Helmet and seedy lounge-rockers Morphine, as well as Joan Baez, Guy Clark and jazz diva Cassandra Wilson.

“We’re trying to diversify and get back to the respected level we once were,” says Lance Hubp, the club’s manager and promoter. “It’s really not that hard ‘cause there’s a lot of great music out there now.”

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The Gaslight and Gaslight II

1608 Cosmo St., Hollywood

Sundays, 7 p.m.-2 a.m;

Wednesdays, 9 p.m.-2 a.m.

Over 21.

To the average passer-by, Cosmos bar, where the Gaslight club is located, may seem like just another Hollywood dive, and for good reason. Until a group of club promoters took it over two years ago, it was a smoky barfly haven. Now, five local bands grace its tiny stage every Sunday at Gaslight and Wednesday at Gaslight II, playing to a party-minded crowd of mainly Hollywood locals.

On this night, Green Thumb pounds out shards of driving rock to an audience that’s dancing, socializing, playing pool and just plain hanging out. The group is one of the many unsigned, local bands, such as Loungefly and S.T.S., that the Gaslight I and II feature regularly. The feel here is that of a neighborhood pub rather than a Hollywood showcase, and most of the bands that play here are casual enough to fit right in.

Patrons in faded T-shirts and jeans talk over the music in cubbyholes around the cavernous club. Upstairs, couples smooch in a comfortable room on satiny, granny-style furniture. The pool tables next to the dance floor are constantly in use, while the small brick patio boasts a quieter appeal.

The rest of the week the bar is host to different clubs that feature jazz bands and deejays spinning hip-hop and retro tunes.

“There’s way more bands than there are places to play,” says Dayle Gloria, who books shows at the Gaslight along with Mary Nixon. “It’s just a matter of giving them a chance at this level, and then sitting back to see what happens.”

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Raji’s

6160 Hollywood Blvd.

Hollywood

Open Tuesday through Sunday. Times vary. Over 21.

The acoustic guitarist Beck plays an entire set--including his KROQ hit “Loser”-- with his back to the audience. Regulars who look as if they’re wearing the clothes they slept in are crammed into the seedy, subterranean restaurant, alongside record-industry types wanting to get a look at this newest weird wonder on the L.A. rock scene.

“Raji’s has been a forum for a lot of artists like Beck,” says the veteran club’s promoter Riff Mercy. “No other club let them play because of their obscure nature. That’s what Raji’s is for--the freaky stuff.”

Nirvana has played here. So has L7, and lesser-known local stars such as Pigmy Love Circus and New Improved God. The club has been a fixture on the scene for 10 years, and 90% of the bands that play here are local and unsigned. It’s hit and miss, but a sure way to see something different.

Says Mercy: “A lot of industry people go to see bands and a lot showcase here because we specialize in music away from the norm--not the everyday MTV thing. When people want a taste of something different, they come here.”

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Whisky a Go-Go

8901 Sunset Blvd.

West Hollywood

Open nightly. All Ages.

This is the grand old Los Angeles rock club--a fixture since the ‘60s that has played host over the years to everyone from Led Zeppelin to Elvis Costello to Smashing Pumpkins.

On this night, yet another in an endless string of promising new bands--the Dutch group Bettie Serveert, with its endearing lead singer Carol van Dijk--is causing a buzz.

Like the Troubadour, the Whisky lost some of its glamour in the ‘80s when it flirted with a pay-to-play policy, but it has rebounded in recent years with a dazzling array of newcomers, from England’s PJ Harvey to Soul Asylum (before “Runaway Train”) to Yo La Tengo.

If you want to hear something new, yet sample the history and tradition of Los Angeles rock, the Whisky is where you go. The club is every bit as indestructible as rock ‘n’ roll itself.