I Love LA

When Randy Newman wrote his yuppie satire "I Love L.A.", he purposely glorified some of the city's less-exotic thoroughfares (Victory Blvd., 6th St., etc.) rather than going the Rodeo Drive route. Weezer bigs up Beverly Hills with tongue planted firmly in cheek, while Donna Summer immortalises the Sunset People, with added bile.

The threat of natural disaster hangs over L.A. like smog, a creeping daily fear that has inevitably found its way into song. Mama Cass gets fatalistic on "California Earthquake", and Peter Tork addresses the peril of bar-b-que smoke on "Pleasant Valley Sunday".

Now that you have travelled down L.A.'s mean streets, it's time to move off the beaten track, to a place of full-blown alcoholism (Warren Zevon's "Desperados under the Eaves") and police brutality (The Offspring's "L.A.P.D."). If it all gets too much, fear not: you can count on Tim Rose for a carefree trip to "Goin' Down In Hollywood".

From lowland Compton to the Hollywood canyons and rock clubs, and all along the record company watchtowers of the Sunset Strip, Los Angeles remains the world's ultimate pop destination: a city steeped in sex 'n' drugs 'n' rock 'n' roll . . . 'n' gin 'n' juice. Here we gather L.A.'s homegrown finest, every one of them rich in West Coast spirit, addicted to a city that has room for laid-back idealism (the Mamas & the Papas), urban gangsta-ism (Dr. Dre & Snoop) and hell-for-leather hedonism (Guns N' Roses). We love this dirty city.