Cobb

I suppose if you have to start somewhere, you would start with Uncle Jam's Army. Because what they did, along with the Boss Bugs of LA, was get people to caravan in their cars to the LA Sports Arena where the DJ would spin records for up to 3,000 people. If you have ever been to a dance party that massive, you understand completely what George Clinton was talking about when something about the music gets into your pants. If you can remember the Shel of LA or any of a dozen other DJs who moved us to the floor (paste half a dozen names here), then you have an idea of the crowds that populated the club scene. The impact of that music and dancing scene transformed LA black radio, LA itself and black culture at large. Nobody can deny what NY did to generate hiphop, but the style and sophistication was all LA. LA doesn't get the credit because of the way hiphop was nourished in the hands of people other than us. But there will be other people to tell the stories of LA Reid, Babyface, Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis. Just don't forget them when you're moaning about 50 Cent.

Now among those crowds were the people who made black bourgie LA legendary, but I'm only going to mention one name, and I assure you that name is sufficient to bring a freight train of memories and associations. Her name is Cara Wallace. You could fill a club on the word that she would be there. There were other divas on the scene but Cara and her sister were legendary. Where could you find them?

Glitter, 24K, Paradise 24, Disco 9000, Osko's, Golden Tale, Tiberio's, Carlos & Charlies, The Greenhouse, Danceteria, The Red Onion, The Bit'n Apple, The Jockey Club, The Chamineh, The Ramada, The Red Lion, Bourbon Street Grotto, King King, Funky Reggae, Moody's Westwood, The Speakeasy, Flippers, Starlite, Reseda, Eve After Dark, Consolidated Plaza, Flanagans, Popcorn, Pizzazz, Peanuts, Crush Bar, Carolina West, Five Torches, Little J's, Simply Blues, and probably most legendary of all Friday's at the Marina where nobody actually danced.

There are a dozen others I forget the names of, the RBD club on Manchester near Crenshaw, the club on Santa Monica and Sepulveda, the tiny upstairs club on Beverly just east of La Cienega.

All of that is to say that in the years before I tossed my BAP life on the funeral pyre and went to live in Brooklyn, LA's upscale black party scen was just paradise. It was all about the look and feel of the people from the Dons that set the mood. Graduates from private Catholic highschools and the best public schools like Palisades were the movers of the pack.

Although there's much too much to talk about here, the story that has never been told is how influential this crowd was on what's bling in hiphop today. Because all of those clubs and all of those parties were there before hiphop went mainstream, and the bourgie end of it even had problems with Rick James. So there's a big dollop of class and sophistication embedded in that buppie scene that was stripped of it as the most monetarily successful of hiphoppers emerged in the 90s. The place to start studying that was what happened when the drug dealers started coming to Friday's.

Before I close, I should mention one more name, because without it, the extent of this scene's influence could not really be appreciated. The name is Earvin Johnson.

I jawed with the spousal unit's new partners until 1 in the morning about the clubs, the restaurants, the music and the people of that era. We were deeply a part of it and it was deeply a part of us. Hearing some updates, I had no idea how deep the rabbit hole went when it came to some of the deeds and doings of the people of the Dons. One of these days, half the story will be told.