EPISODE 08: SKATELAND, LOS ANGELES (WC RAP SPECIAL)

Hello hello hello, and welcome to another episode of Nightclubbing with your host Cherry Pie, broadcasting from Lower Grand Radio, in Oakland, CA. It’s February, which means it is Black History Month, and I’ve been doing a Black History Month special for a few years now, highlighting Black artists and stories, which is something we should be doing all the time— Black history is American history. As a professional, full-time DJ, one thing I frequently hear from my clients is “I love all music, except country and hardcore rap”. I want to unpack that statement, so that’s what we’ll be focusing on this episode and the next. I love today’s corner of musical storytelling, and I know I say this about every episode, but this is story involves a few of my favorite things – California, roller skating and hip hop. Today we’re going to south Los Angeles, to Skateland in Compton, the roller rink regarded as the birthplace of west coast hip hop.

On Saturday, November 16, 1984, 38-year-old Craig Schweisinger opened the doors to Skateland U.S.A. at 1950 North Central Avenue in Compton. He was white, a former surfer from nearby Torrance, who regularly attended the Rollerdrome in Culver City when the Beach Boys were still called the Pendletones. While Los Angeles had seen huge growth in the skating industry in the late 1970s, the '80s presented new challenges — like video games and the death of disco — for the attention of young people.

Music and roller skating go hand in hand, and as we touched on in our last episode, the death of disco in the early 1980s ushered in new genres with the same spirit being made by Black folks. As white teenagers were losing interest in roller skating, roller rinks became refuge for Black Americans. But before they could explore their love of roller-skating, their mere presence in roller rinks was barred in those segregated spaces, even after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed. In the 1960s, only one night a week was set aside for Black skaters in the rink, and it was typically dubbed “Soul Night” or “Martin Luther King Jr. Night”.

Schweisinger's Skateland already had strong roots in the Compton community, which by the 1970s was a predominantly Black neighborhood on the southside of Los Angeles. In 1962, Los Angeles Rams defensive back, Woodley Davis — a Compton native — opened the 40,000 square foot Sportsman Bowl spread out over three acres. The place boasted a 36-lane bowling alley, an attached restaurant, and a cocktail lounge. Dooto Music Center was next door. The brainchild of Walter Williams — who earned acclaim and a small fortune after producing The Penguins’ “Earth Angel” — the place doubled as a recording studio, film and television production facility, and 1,000-seat auditorium for music performances.

While both venues survived the looting and arson associated with 1965’s Watts Riots, the subsequent “white flight” that occurred afterwards had a significant impact on every business in Compton. Sidebar, regarding the Watts Riots, l’m not sure if you all are familiar with these events, but I’ll link an article detailing it in the blog post for this episode in case you’re not, please do read it. By 1970, the Sportsman Bowl had burned down after a mysterious fire occurred. What was once thought to be the sign of Black entrepreneurial growth in the area, was now an eyesore.

Schweisinger, a budding commercial real estate agent, gauged the entrepreneurial possibilities within the dilapidated structure, and he heard a consistent recommendation that he should open a skating rink. There was a small precedent indicating that running a successful skate rink was possible; one example being World on Wheels on Venice Boulevard — famous for their Wednesday nights with west coast hip hop collective Uncle Jamm's Army.

While Schweisinger could have certainly been perceived as an outsider looking to cash-in on a Black-fueled art form, he found a helpful willingness from those associated with both the skate and hip-hop community.

Knowing how important music was to the skating experience, Lonzo Williams extended the services of the fledgling D.J. team he managed. The World Class Wreckin’ Cru consisted of 16-year-old Antoine Carraby, a.k.a. D.J. Yella; 17-year-old Marquette Hawkins, a.k.a. Cli-N-Tel; and 18-year-old Andre Young, a.k.a. Dr. Dre. Schweisinger didn’t imagine that within few months his rink would become the most important hip-hop venue in the history of South Los Angeles, and eventually many others across the nation. Jerry Woodard, a World on Wheels veteran, agreed to be the floor manager. Kevin Mallett, a promotions manager at KDAY, offered free on-air advertising and live broadcasting of the performances and DJ sets at Skateland. This is important in aiding the progression and popularity of the genre, because mainstream radio stations weren’t airing it, MTV wasn’t playing it and rap artists weren’t getting gigs at conventional venues.

The year Skateland opened there were 212 gang-related homicides in Los Angeles. Compton was bloods territory, and in a city balkanized by gangs, Skateland became a refuge for young Black kids to party safely and see their favorite artists. The Compton roller rink hosted early rap royalty – including Eric B and Rakim, New Edition and Queen Latifah played her west coast debut at Skateland.

Musical alliances, like gangs, were forged based on geography. Dr. Dre, who DJ’d regularly at Skateland, had a cousin name Sir Jinx who had a group called C.I.A. with his Inglewood neighbor, a 17-year-old named O’Shea Jackson who called himself Ice Cube. Soon Cube and Jinx were skipping the lines at Skateland as part of Dre’s entourage. Eric Wright enlisted Cube to write the raps for a New York-based group he was managing called H.B.O., or Home Boys Only. When the East Coasters scoffed at lines about ’64 Impalas and gang signs, Dre convinced Wright to perform the song himself.

Wright wasn’t naturally musical, but he knew Compton. As Schweisinger puts it, “Dre was always Dre, and Cube was always Cube,” but Wright put on a pair of wraparound shades and suddenly became Eazy-E. At Skateland in the fall of 1987, Eazy performed the song H.B.O. had rejected, “The Boyz-N-The Hood.” C.I.A. opened, and Cube stole the night with a rhyme called “My Penis” set to the tune of Run-DMC’s “My Adidas.” The rink roared its approval.

“The Boyz-N-The Hood” was such a hit within the neighborhood that Dre, Eazy and Cube merged their crews to form a super group that specialized in the music beloved by the Skateland crowd. Initially, the collective involved about 20 rappers and D.J.s, but eventually the core was whittled down to Eazy, Dre, Cube, Yella and a teenage associate from Eazy’s block named Lorenzo Patterson, a.k.a. MC Ren. In March 1988, Skateland hosted their first concert together as NWA.

Before we head into some music, a disclaimer and a ground rule. I intend to play these songs as they were originally recorded and meant to be heard. One sentiment I’ve come across frequently amongst other white DJs is a reticence to play rap, and I think it ends up being underrepresented in a lot capacities even still today. This goes back to what I mentioned earlier, about MTV and mainstream radio stations refusing to play rap in its early days. There are obscenities in these songs, if that offends you, you have the opportunity to turn this off now. And with that, there’s a particular word in a lot of hip hop— I’m not going to say what it is, I think we can all infer what it is — but just a friendly reminder that if you are not Black, this word is not for you. Please refrain from using it, even if you know the lyrics, don’t sing along. And with that, let’s head in. Kicking things off, the song that coined the term “ganster rap” (even though no one in NWA was in a gang) and the media refused to play:

TRACK LIST: