Photo via Art Laboe
Art Laboe is one of the very few figures in pop culture who actually merit the distinction of "living legend". Though, unfortunately, the "he needs no introduction" preamble doesn’t apply here. He does need an introduction—especially for younger generations and those outside Southern California’s broadcast radius. He’s spent the better part of a century as a radio DJ, concert promoter and label guru. He turns 90 next month, but he sounds sharper than most hamfisted personalities on the terrestrial dial or the meandering malaise native to the podsphere. Laboe is undeniably significant to California, but he’s also one of our nation’s true unsung broadcasting heroes.
In many ways, Art Laboe is the opposite of other household name broadcasters like Dick Clark, who for so many years led homophobic witch hunts and helped enforce a whitewashed portrait of America, only integrating his audiences once integration was a fait accompli. Laboe, on the other hand, was known for his populist inclusion from the get-go, notably through concerts thrown in the city of El Monte in the mid-'50s, outside the arm of L.A.’s laws prohibiting minors attending dances of this nature. His parties and radio shows became a safe haven for people across racial, ethnic, and class lines. In one gesture, he coined the phrase "oldies but goodies" and issued the first compilation of hits by different artists. Earlier this year, his L.A. radio home Hot 92.3 changed format, so the Art Laboe Connection show was without a home in L.A. proper for the better part of this year. Recently and wisely, KDAY—the first "classic" (read: oldies) hip-hop station—picked him up in June. Like any great DJ, Laboe is fundamentally in conversation with his audience, who are invited to send in dedications, a staple to this day and the hook of his whole empire.
And that’s just scratching the surface, mere bullet point bona fides of an iconic career. So perhaps the best way to comprehend his unquantifiable influence is by letting DJs and musicians from the generations of Laboe’s vast listenership step up to the mic to tell the real stories.
These next dedications go out to Mr. Laboe in Los Angeles, with love.
Danny Holloway (DJ, Ximeno Records, dublab, Blazing 45s)
When my mother was in her teens, Art Laboe broke through as a popular L.A. DJ. That was back in the rocking '50s. During my teens in the '60s, he was huge with low riders. Decade after decade Laboe has reflected and helped define L.A. working class culture. Before "California Love" and hoopties, Art Laboe broadcasted "Earth Angel" and more lamented love songs, which literally gave birth to the next generation of Angelenos.
Jahaira Morales (DJ, Collector)
My favorite memory of Art Laboe comes in the form of my older brother, Elio; I’d be in my room and through the thin walls hear my brother singing Brenton Wood’s "My Girl". The moments I’d hear my brother sing those words, "I got sunshine…" I knew he was in his room ironing his Levis. His girlfriend turned him onto Art, she was a dedicated listener of Hot 92.3 and the one my brother would sing "My Girl" to in his room as he dressed himself.
Peanut Butter Wolf (DJ, Stones Throw)
I've always been really inspired by Art and have even more of an appreciation for him now as a DJ in my mid-forties in an industry that I feel is mainly ruled by people in a younger generation than mine. Art has never tried to change with the times. He gets a lot of love from people of all ages, ethnicities, and socio-economic backgrounds without trying to talk or act a way that isn't genuine to himself. He just brings respect and dignity to the airways and has been rewarded for it from people with their support and love for him. Kind of an unexplainable phenomenon in commercial radio. I feel pretty in the know on the kind of music he plays and still find myself Shazamming songs he plays regularly.
Daniela Zepeda (DJ, Radio Host Xica-Soul)
I grew up in South San Diego, and my most vivid memory is sitting in the back of my dad’s car singing oldies at the top of my lungs while he drove my mom, my little brother, and myself all over San Diego some nights. I remember wishing I could call in and send my dedications to my many cousins. We'd sing the Fuzz's "I Love You for All Seasons", and coo Tony Allen's "Night Owl" yet once we made it back to our garage my little brother and I would be sound asleep. Listening to Art Laboe in the back of our car always lulled my brother and I to sleep—he was part of our family.
Bethany Cosentino (Best Coast)
When I first started driving I had a boyfriend who lived in Culver City and I lived in La Crescenta, so it was a far drive to see him. Sometimes I would drive home late at night and I would listen to Hot 92.3 and always was discovering the coolest oldies. I looked up who he was and got super into him. After I moved back to L.A. from New York, I was into oldies almost exclusively, I would listen all the time. I discovered one of my favorite songs on there, "Girls It Ain't Easy" by Honey Cone.
Jen Ferrer (Friends of Friends)
When I first moved to L.A., I had a lot of trouble adjusting to driving. The traffic and unknown streets made me feel totally disconnected from my new home. One night, I was trying to make my way across the city, and I was flipping through the radio stations and stumbled upon Art Laboe Connection. He was dedicating the next one to someone named Cheryl (my mom’s name) and the song was "Windy" by the Association (my mom’s favorite song). I flipped! It was so serendipitous, like I was truly meant to tune in at that very moment, and it felt like the first time I was actually part of the city in some weird way. Needless to say, I became an instant fan. Years later, when I joined my college radio station, I hosted a weekly call-in request show as an homage to Art Laboe.
Roger Campos (DJ, Funkmosphere)
My favorite memory of Art Laboe was sometime back in 2003. I was driving on historic Route 66 on my way back home to Portland, Ore. Driving through Flagstaff, Ariz., I stopped to check out a little antique mall alongside the road that had some used records. One 45 instantly caught my eye because it was on James Brown's People label. I had to trust my instincts and so I took a chance on it even though I hadn't either heard of the song nor the group. The release was "Sho Nuff" by Sly, Slick & Wicked, and despite all my excitement, I knew I was going to have to wait until I got back home to be able to hear this mystery of a song. This was an era way before smart phones and the ability to pull up songs for instant preview.
It was getting dark and I tuned the radio dial and picked up Art Laboe's syndicated "Request & Dedications". And the dedication comes from a guy in Bakersfield, Calif., a song for his wife of 30 years: "Sho Nuff". The record I’d just scored. "Sho 'nuff you really love him/ Sho 'nuff you really love him/ Loooove him.....sho 'nuff, sho 'nuff, sho 'nuff, sho 'nuff, whooo!"
Egon Alapatt (Now-Again Records)
Art's very important because he gave rise to a very specific type of funk music—this Southwest/West Coast thing that centered around Arlester "Dyke" Christian. Not to mention that story about his phone book—and the fact that the locals he called in to cut landmark records were later credited to more polished, more famous musicians—shows how grassroots he was about the whole thing. And those records are timeless.
Speak (MC, "The Craigslist Killer")
Art Laboe is the last memory of a Los Angeles that doesn't exist anymore. His soothing voice is the bridge that connects both blacks and Latinos and makes L.A. feel united through its diversity. There is a deep rooted sadness in the heart of Latinos here in Los Angeles. Dating back to the days of Mexicans being forcefully removed from Chavez Ravine to the current gentrification of Boyle Heights, Art’s voice is the glimmer of hope that everything will be OK. When he reads your name and message, you feel like an old friend is comforting you.
Growing up I felt a great disconnect from my two older brothers who were never around because they were active gang members in and out of the system. I felt we were only associated by name. A few months ago I happened to catch Art's show and sure enough my older brother Mateo called up from Wasco State Prison and dedicated the Hollies' "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother" to me. I couldn't believe it. It was my older brother reaching out to me through Art Laboe to know that no matter what he loved me and we would always be family.
Melissa Duenas (DJ, Low Rider Sundays, Sleepwalking)
His show also played an important part in the Chicano community not only because of the music he played, but because he helped families keep in touch with loved ones that were behind bars. Today we take for granted how easily we can keep in touch through social media. But those of us who have had family members that were incarcerated know how difficult and heart wrenching it can be to have that communication stripped. My dad was in and out of prison the majority of my childhood to adolescence. My dedication will always be to him, who is now deceased. "To Pops. Missing you always. 'It'll Never Be Over For Me'."
Sam Sparro (Artist, DJ)
I was genuinely upset when Hot 92.3 was taken off the air. I had been listening to Art Laboe most nights since I was a teenager and it seemed so wrong that he was gone. He had been a huge part of the fabric of old school radio and a part of people’s lives on an emotional level. My friend [DJ] Kim Anh and I started circulating a petition to bring the station back and there were several thousand signatures but iHeartRadio wasn't interested. Thank God KDAY have brought him back—his work isn't over yet.
Jeff Weiss (Writer, Passion of the Weiss)
I feel like in the pantheon of L.A. voices, it's really Chick Hearn, Vin Scully, and Art Laboe, and everyone else is merely a pretender to the throne.
DJ Felli Fel (DJ, Producer, Power 106)
To me, Art Laboe is the Vin Scully of L.A. Radio. You instantly recognize his voice when you hear it, and immediately you feel at home. Art continues to stand the test of time, even with all the changes culturally and in technology. Consistency and relevance are two things hard to come by, especially in an ever-changing radio world. Nothing but respect for Mr. Laboe. Here's to many more years on the L.A. Airwaves.
Brandi Garcia (DJ, KDAY)
Art Laboe is a radio staple for all Angelenos. It doesn't matter your age, culture, or location. He's always been able to connect with people by genuinely listening and giving them a voice with his dedications. It's just fitting to have a legendary on-air talent like him at a legendary station like KDAY!
Samo Sound Boy (DJ, Producer, Body High)
Years ago I had heard that every single day Art would go to the Chateau Marmont for lunch and eat a steak by himself. That always struck me as pure Hollywood lore until recently when my friend who works there confirmed it. She also said he always orders it rare and is an exceptional tipper. Seems very fitting.
Cece the Mamacita (DJ, KDAY)
I remember driving down Long Beach Blvd., in Lynwood, with my dad in his black Regal listening to Art Laboe. We would listen to the Killer Oldies show together. My father is no longer here with me, but I can tell you this much: whenever I hear Art Laboe on the radio, I smile and think of my daddy.
Anthony Valadez (DJ, KCRW)
My earliest memory of Art Laboe is from my late mother. She had me at an early age and got into the Chola culture in the early '80s. Cholas were everywhere during my childhood, and their soundtrack at that time were oldies which are in heavy rotation during Art Laboe's shows. I vividly remember him playing "Angel Baby" by Rosie and the Originals during just about every program. Being surrounded by this street culture, I remember how everyone exemplified machismo and this tough image, but the minute Art Laboe's show came on, the guards were dropped and everyone seemed to be human again.
Randy Ellis (DJ, Voltaire Records)
For the R&B and soul community in the Southland, Art really took the notion of the listener influencing the programming a step further, in opening up his show to dedications and giving a voice to those that otherwise would not be broadcast, if only for a few seconds. Hearing these dedications on air, I found these songs really belonged to other people. I could, by hearing their quick dedications, visualize and fantasize about their life stories and really ponder about who they were and why these songs meant so much to them. In that way, Art's show was really everyone's show, a keyhole into an abyss of untold stories.
Eric Garcetti (Mayor, Record Aficionado)
Art Laboe is more than a radio host—he's a cultural institution and part of the family here in L.A. His voice has narrated generations of romances, break-ups, and dedications, and I'm so pleased he'll be spinning our city's soundtrack for years to come.