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As a child, I spent nearly every weekend with my best friend shooting hoops and jumping fences throughout Hollywood.

It was always amusing seeing tourists — especially foreigners — line up around buildings and outside nightclubs and lounges that held no meaning to me, at the time.

These monuments I ignored as a youngster became the must-see places of my teenage years and early 20s.

It was at the Viper Room where a 20-year-old me was tossed out of line trying to crash the same venue where Pearl Jam had played.

I was first scandalized by the price of a drink for a date’s $10 cocktail at the Troubadour in West Hollywood (I think I was making $6.50 an hour at the time). But I had to visit one of Jim Morrison’s favorite haunts.

So I was delighted when The Times entertainment team compiled its list of 26 legendary music sites in L.A.

It was fun to see favorites, but more importantly, to read about new places and legends.

Hopefully, there’s a spot that intrigues you. Let’s take a look at a few selections.

Capitol Records (Hollywood)

The most famous tower in all of music was never overtly intended to look like a stack of LPs and a stylus needle.

“The building was not designed as a cartoon or a giggle. To have it trivialized with the stack-of-records myth is annoying and dismaying,” architect Louis Naidorf has said of his Capitol Records Building. “There’s not a thing on the building that doesn’t have a solid purpose to it.”

That was no obstacle for it becoming emblematic of both Los Angeles and the record business. It’s still home to one of the most renowned recording studios on Earth, and its silhouette remains a Hollywood icon and a symbol of Los Angeles on par with the Hollywood sign nearby.

(Ken Hively/Los Angeles Times)

Elliott Smith Wall (Silver Lake)

The beloved singer-songwriter Elliott Smith posed at the swooping mural outside Solutions speaker repair in Silver Lake for the cover of his LP “Figure 8” in 2000.

After he died by suicide in 2003, the wall became an unofficial memorial for Smith, where fans left touching notes, song lyrics and nips of liquors mentioned in his songs.

While the wall has been cut out in spots to make room for various restaurants — and it’s often covered in more flagrant tagging — it’s still a living connection to one of the city’s most cherished voices.

(Jason Armond/Los Angeles Times)

Chaplin Studio (Hollywood)

John Mayer calls it “adult day care”: the historic recording studio behind the arched gates on La Brea Avenue where famous musicians have been keeping themselves — and one another — creatively occupied since the mid-1960s.

Known for decades as Henson Studios — and as A&M Studios before that — the 3-acre complex in the heart of Hollywood has played host to the creation of some of music’s most celebrated records, among them Carole King’s “Tapestry,” Joni Mitchell’s “Blue,” Guns N’ Roses’ “Use Your Illusion” and D’Angelo’s “Black Messiah.”

Charlie Chaplin, who was born in London, began building the lot in 1917 in a white-and-brown English Tudor style; he went on to direct some of his best-known films, including “Modern Times” and “The Great Dictator,” on the property.

The Lighthouse Cafe (Hermosa Beach)

The Lighthouse Cafe might seem familiar from its cameo in the Oscar-winning movie “La La Land,” but this jazz cafe was once instrumental in shaping the West Coast jazz scene.

The beachside spot first opened as a restaurant in 1934 and was changed into a bar by the 1940s. It first started to play jazz in 1949 when the owner let bassist Howard Rumsey host a recurring jam session. The jams quickly began to draw both a vivacious crowd of listeners and a core group of budding jazz musicians.

Over the years, musicians like Chet Baker, Gerry Mulligan, Miles Davis and Max Roach all made regular appearances at the Lighthouse. Today, the venue still hosts jazz brunches every Sunday and other musical gigs throughout the week.

For more, here is the entire list.

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(Allen J. Schaben/Los Angeles Times)

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(Illustrations by Lindsey Made This; photograph by Rony Armas)

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Have a great day, from the Essential California team

Jim Rainey, staff reporter
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WASHINGTON — When Republican Rep. Bill Posey of Florida ended an Oct. 21 House floor speech with a fist pump and the phrase “Let’s go, Brandon!” it may have seemed cryptic and weird to many who were listening. But the phrase was already growing in right-wing circles, and now the seemingly upbeat sentiment — actually a stand-in for swearing at Joe Biden — is everywhere.

Rep. Jeff Duncan (R-S.C.) wore a “Let’s Go Brandon” face mask at the Capitol last week. Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) posed with a “Let’s Go Brandon” sign at the World Series. Sen. Mitch McConnell’s press secretary retweeted a photo of the phrase on a construction sign in Virginia.

The line has become conservative code for something far more vulgar: “F— Joe Biden.” It’s all the rage among Republicans wanting to prove their conservative credentials, a not-so-secret handshake that signals they’re in sync with the party’s base.

Americans are accustomed to their leaders being publicly jeered, and former President Trump’s often-coarse language seemed to expand the boundaries of what counts as normal political speech.

But how did Republicans settle on the Brandon phrase as a G-rated substitute for its more vulgar three-word cousin?

It started at an Oct. 2 NASCAR race at the Talladega Superspeedway in Alabama. Brandon Brown, a 28-year-old driver, had won his first Xfinity Series and was being interviewed by an NBC Sports reporter. The crowd behind him was chanting something at first difficult to make out. The reporter suggested they were chanting “Let’s go Brandon” to cheer the driver. But it became increasingly clear they were saying: “F— Joe Biden.”

NASCAR and NBC have since taken steps to limit “ambient crowd noise” during interviews, but it was too late — the phrase already had taken off.

When the president visited a construction site in suburban Chicago a few weeks ago to promote his vaccinate-or-test mandate, protesters deployed both three-word phrases. This past week, Biden’s motorcade was driving past a “Let’s Go Brandon” banner as the president passed through Plainfield, N.J.

And a group chanted “Let’s go Brandon” outside a Virginia park Monday when Biden made an appearance on behalf of the Democratic candidate for governor, Terry McAuliffe. Two protesters dropped the euphemism entirely, holding up hand-drawn signs with the profanity.

Friday morning on a Southwest flight from Houston to Albuquerque, the pilot signed off his greeting over the public address system with the phrase, to audible gasps from some passengers.

Veteran GOP ad maker Jim Innocenzi had no qualms about the coded crudity, calling it “hilarious.”

“Unless you are living in a cave, you know what it means,” he said. “But it’s done with a little bit of a class. And if you object and are taking it too seriously, go away.”

America’s presidents have endured meanness for centuries; Grover Cleveland faced chants of “Ma, Ma Where’s my Pa?” in the 1880s over rumors he’d fathered an illegitimate child. Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson were the subject of poems that leaned into racist tropes and allegations of bigamy.

“We have a sense of the dignity of the office of president that has consistently been violated to our horror over the course of American history,” said Cal Jillson, a politics expert and professor in the political science department at Southern Methodist University. “We never fail to be horrified by some new outrage.”

There were plenty of old outrages.

“F— Trump” graffiti still marks many an overpass in Washington, D.C. George W. Bush had a shoe thrown at his face. Bill Clinton was criticized with such fervor that his most vocal critics were labeled the “Clinton crazies.”

The biggest difference, though, between the sentiments hurled at the Grover Clevelands of yore and modern politicians is the amplification they get on social media.

“Before the expansion of social media a few years ago, there wasn’t an easily accessible public forum to shout your nastiest and darkest public opinions,” said Matthew Delmont, a history professor at Dartmouth College.

Even the racism and vitriol to which former President Obama was subjected was tempered in part because Twitter was relatively new. There was no TikTok. As for Facebook, leaked company documents have recently revealed how the platform increasingly ignored hate speech and misinformation and allowed it to proliferate.

A portion of the U.S. was already angry before the Brandon moment, believing the 2020 presidential election was rigged despite a mountain of evidence to the contrary, which has stood the test of recounts and court cases. But now it’s more than that to die-hard Trump supporters, said Stanley Renshon, a political scientist and psychoanalyst at the City University of New York.

He cited the Afghanistan withdrawal, the Southern border situation and rancorous school board debates as situations in which Biden critics feel that “how American institutions are telling the American public what they clearly see and understand to be true, is in fact not true.”

Trump hasn’t missed the moment. His Save America PAC now sells a $45 T-shirt featuring “Let’s go Brandon” above an American flag. One message to supporters reads, “#FJB or LET’S GO BRANDON? Either way, President Trump wants YOU to have our ICONIC new shirt.”

Separately, T-shirts are popping up in storefronts with the slogan and the NASCAR logo.

And as for the real Brandon, thing haven’t been so great. He drives for a short-staffed, underfunded team owned by his father. And while that win — his first career victory — was huge for him, the team has long struggled for sponsorship and existing partners have not been marketing the driver since the slogan.