Echoes & Amplifiers: Our Guide to SoCal's Sonic Sanctuaries

Before Spotify fed our souls. Before every dive bar got gentrified into a gastropub, adorned with the ironic Edison bulbs as if auditioning for Disney's new electrical parade, we had venues. Real ones. The kind that smelled like sweat, spilled beer, with walls still clinging to the ghosts of last night’s distortion pedals and buzzsaw yelling.

This series is for my fellow Cavernauts (yes, I’m calling you that now, so embrace it), the ones who moshed, swayed, or sulked in the back corner of some dark club, cradling a lukewarm PBR like a sacred chalice.

We’re going crate-digging through SoCal’s lesser-known, but legendary stages. Think of the crusty corner booths, sticky floors, busted monitors, and stories still etched into bathroom walls, including Stacie's number. We’ll seek old haunts like Koo’s Café and Mr. T’s Bowl, pay our respects to the Showcase Theater and the Golden Bear, and we will worship at the altars of venues still kicking against the algorithm.

Our first stop of this journey will be Linda’s Doll Hut in Anaheim. A place where punk met grease-stained glamour, and legends screamed inches from your face. These sonic sanctuaries are calling! Are you in?