Rat Beach Rags To The Rescue
by Jeff Vincent
all images by Jessie Lee Cederblom
If I could hop a time machine and walk into Offbeat Music back in 1997 to find my 15-year-old self flipping through a bin of Pink Floyd bootleg CDs, or possibly nibbling a slice of Cialuzzi’s pizza in the back room behind the two-way mirror, while prudently eyeing the owner who’s pulling a bong from the freezer as I sift through a duffel bag secret stash of tape cassette boots, and I could inform that 15-year-old me that the sanctuary in which he stood was destined to become a dental office in a future that would be likewise bereft of a Blockbuster Video, Go Boy Records, or Toys “R” Us, he would probably spontaneously combust on the spot.
I grew up in South Redondo Beach, walking the train tracks to Hermosa; along what is now the Greenbelt. As kids, we’d adventure among those remnants of the old Red Car Line on the hunt for lizards and the occasional cache of bum-porn. (If you don’t understand what that last part means, beautiful; but if you navigated the streets of a pre-internet, pre-cellphone age and do get it, then shame on you, disgusting shame.) It was a very different looking and feeling South Bay from what we know today, one that was dotted with the lingering vestige of an earlier, groovier, and simpler age.
The most organic fuzzy peaches grew from trees out of the very sidewalk of my home turf on North Elena Ave., where pomegranates and cactus fruits drooped in the driveway and hung over the fence of the little beach bungalow we called home; it would become the first on the street to be bulldozed. The Bijou Theater (or maybe it was called Bijou Cinemas) on Hermosa Ave still showed films; now it’s a Chase Bank. There was an AMC theater at the top of Pier Ave (16th St, actually) on PCH, with a video game arcade downstairs; it’s now a 24 Hour Fitness surrounded by beauty salon type joints. Since 1973, horny brave souls in search of adult accessories, toys, and entertainment had to enter the front door of The Tender Box while on full display along PCH off 8th St. You could destroy yourself with a Tomboy’s Famous Chiliburger in Hermosa before jumping next door to shop vintage at Granny Takes A Trip, and then skip down the street to Aardvark’s. Parents could dump you for a summer afternoon of mini-golf and waterslides at Malibu Castle & Monsoon Lagoon on Marine Ave in what we always thought was Manhattan Beach, but might have been Hawthorne, Lawndale, or Redondo, it’s hard to say; it’s now a Tesla Supercharger. Dad might’ve slipped you five bucks on your way out the backdoor from brunch at Tequila Willie’s in Manhattan Beach to negotiate the mall and snag a new G.I. Joe at Kay-Bee Toys. Tower Records in Torrance became my second home; but it’s now an Amazon Go, after having been a jewelry store for some time. There’s no more Recycled Records or Music Plus. No more Alta Dena Dairy, no Greeko’s headshop, no Becker Surfboards, no dreaded Tilt-A-Whirl at the Fun Factory. No more Walker’s Cafe at Point Fermin, or Goat Hill in Manhattan Beach. Le Petite Cafe, Cafe Boogaloo, The Spot, 2nd Street Cafe; all gone. No more Pacer Darts, Surprise Store, Zeppy’s Pizza, Unky Roy’s, or Leland’s Just For Fun. No more Movies ’N’ You, 20/20 or Premiere Video, Wherehouse, or Video Out-Takes. No more Galaxy, Magoo’s, or Geoffrey’s comic book shops. No more PV Bowl, Gable House, or Active West bowling alleys. And every other cool place that once was, is now probably a real estate office.
Thankfully, there are a few holdouts still hanging strong. Cherished relics like Old Town Music Hall in El Segundo, where in 2025 you can actually see a silent film on the big screen while a human being provides musical accompaniment with a Mighty Wurlitzer Theatre Pipe Organ. We’ve still got Seaside Lagoon, Mickey’s Deli, and The Green Store. Naja’s Place, Ercole’s, and Shellback Tavern. Cozy Cafe, Ocean Diner, Eat At Joe’s, and Sloopy’s. Boccato’s and Granny’s groceries. El Gaucho Meat Market and Malaga Cove Ranch Market. Quality Seafood, Old Tony’s, and El Torito at the Redondo Pier. The San Franciscan, Uncle Bill’s, Martha’s, The Bullpen, and a family-based revival of Riera’s Place. To name a few. And, we now have a shitload of local craft breweries, and Select Beer Store (our local Cheers).
But I can’t say that it hasn’t been painful to see so many of our iconic cultural outposts collapse beneath the weight of “progress.” Blown away with the wispy, wistful winds of bygone eras. Or sometimes scraped off like troublesome barnacles. Yet, what can we do about it? Who will do anything about this?
Enter Rat Beach Rags
Concerned that our ill-fated beacons of yesteryear’s cultural fabric might fade from all memory, local fellas Chris Berry and John Faso have launched a little clothing company aimed at paying homage to some of their favorite spots. It’s called Rat Beach Rags, and could perhaps be regarded as like a punky guerrilla preservation society, that you wear on your back.
“It’s a small T-shirt brand run by two South Bay punks who are doing what they can to not let the cool stuff they grew up with be forgotten,” says Faso.
Berry elaborates further. “We are giving back to the culture of the South Bay that we grew up with when there were more artistic, intellectual, musical and outcast elements here. We’re hoping to keep that memory and legacy alive. We want to remind people that this used to be a place with a counterculture instead of the Miami Beach lookalike that developers are trying to make it into. It’s cool when you’re walking around the South Bay and someone sees you in your Scooter’s [Records] or Either/Or [Bookstore] shirt and they start up a conversation with you about it. Uncle Tim (Scooter’s Records owner) and his wife Aimee text me every once in a while when they see a Scooter’s Records shirt out in the wild.”
To date, the boys have made shirts and sweatshirts for Scooter’s Records, Either/Or Bookstore, Theologian Records, Alternative Groove Records, Go Boy Records, Video Archives, Re:Style, and Pessimiser Records. They’ve also done Either/Or Bookstore hats and a second version of Theologian Records shirts.
“What meant most to us growing up here were the record stores, book stores, video rental stores, and movie theaters,” says Berry. “The places and businesses we’ve made shirts for all had a huge impact on us in our teens and twenties and stay with us to this day. Shops like Alternative Groove, Scooter’s, Either/Or, Re:Style – these places were more like cultural centers for the punks, outcasts, weirdos and intellectuals of the South Bay. I personally feel like I gained the best education of my life hanging out in these record stores, bookstores and art spaces.”
Faso says that punk rock will always be their first love, as well as the bulk of what they focus on with their operation. A couple future spots from the past that he’s been eager to get done since the whole thing began, even though he laughingly admits believing they wouldn’t sell very well, are the Cove/Bijou Theater and Frogs.
Of Frogs, he warmly recalls, “It was a shitty dive bar in Lawndale on Hawthorne Blvd. Also the place I saw my first punk show.”
But he also recognizes that they’re open for any nostalgia they deem worthy, even if it might have predated their opportunity for a firsthand taste.
“Like, I wasn’t around to see The Cove Theatre [prior to the Bijou],” he says. “But I’d love to make some gear for it. Of course because it’s a big part of our town’s history, but also because it’s cool as hell!”
As for the Bijou (1983-1996), which began as the Metropolitan Theatre in 1923, and, after a number of name changes over the years, eventually became the Cove in 1974, Berry revisits his youth.
“My first job in high school was working the snack bar at the Bijou Theater the last year and a half that it was open… It was a crazy job. I have so many bonkers stories about working there.”
He continues reclining further into reverie…
“Later I worked at Scooter’s Records. Both of these places had such interesting and cool people that came in. Working at Scooter’s really opened my eyes and perspective to so much music and ideas from the conversations I had with [the owner] Uncle Tim and the people that came in and hung out there. I have friends to this day, 25 years later, that I made working there. You wouldn’t just go into Scooter’s Records or Either/Or Bookstore as a blind consumer, you’d hang out and have conversations. We want to pay homage to these places and make sure they’re not forgotten.”
The Beginning Of Bringing It All Back Home
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When the world gives you a pandemic, make lemon meringue pie!
“During Covid I made some Scooter’s shirts, and people really loved them because they loved Uncle Tim and that record store,” says Berry. “I wanted to start making more shirts of these cultural businesses from the South Bay that are no longer around, but had a major impact on us. The reason behind the idea is just to preserve what the South Bay used to have. We didn’t realize how good we had it growing up here in the 80s and 90s. You could walk down Pier Avenue [in Hermosa Beach] and hit up Alternative Groove Records, Scooter’s Records, Either/Or Bookstore, Re:Style, The Bijou Theater, Greeko’s, The Lighthouse… All that’s left now is the Lighthouse. It bums me out that my kids won’t get that experience of walking down Pier Ave. to all these spots and getting your young mind blown away by all these cool people.
“I knew John [Faso] through the punk scene, and during Covid I kind of commissioned him to design some Circle Jerks inspired art for some shirts for my AP History students I was teaching.”
By day, Berry is a high school history teacher, and Circle Jerks are a hardcore punk band formed in Los Angeles, 1979.
He continues. “He [Faso] made a skankin’ Abraham Lincoln, skankin’ Frida Kahlo and skankin’ Monty Python Black Knight. We became friends through this. I am not an artist, but John is a really great and creative artist. I approached him with the idea of a T-shirt business focusing on South Bay punk cultural history, like the stores and businesses we’ve made shirts for, and he was immediately on board. He designed the logo pretty quickly after that.”
For Faso, who’s also Senior Designer for BeachLife Festival, the prospect struck a deep chord; soulfully, if not musically.
“Punk rock is the only thing that’s ever made sense to me,” he says. “Even when it doesn’t make any sense at all. It’s the only thing I’ve ever really understood and the only thing that’s been a constant. It’s never let me down. People within it have let me down. But not the spirit of it all.”
Berry nods to a few other local folk and institutions who also produce culturally historic shirts.
“Like AJ of Burnout who makes Marineland, Mermaid, and Poopdeck shirts. The Hermosa Beach Museum has Insomniac, Bijou and Mermaid paraphernalia too. We’ve been sticking with more of the punk, music, book, and artistic side of the old South Bay, because that’s what we loved the most.”
A Compulsion Of Punk Passion
Not everyone knows the joy and stress that comes with a labor of love. Think about it: you already work fulltime hours while juggling the usual unyielding demands of life, but then you’re like – I want more? I need more? Or is it the willing capitulation to the realization that this thing just has to be done, and it won’t get done unless you yourself do it?
Rat Beach Rags is a pure labor of love. A compulsion of passion. As previously mentioned, both these dudes already have full-time careers, families, etc.
“Well, it’s definitely not about money,” says Faso. “It’s really about our love for punk rock and how it relates to the South Bay. And not letting that culture die out.”
Unfortunately, so many of the faces and voices once representing our familiar haunts have also faded into ghostly mist along with the very bones of their brick and mortar; but their soul remains, informing a community that still exists. And in some cases, they even still walk among us. Rat Beach Rags, in the big effort of their small way, isn’t just preserving part of the legacy of our beach cities, but a legacy of a people.
“We’re both born and raised in the South Bay, and, although nothing can stay the same forever, we just want the people who were here at the time these places existed to have some good memories rekindled, and for people in general to remember these cultural institutions that used to exist here,” Berry says.
“The people that are moving here now most likely have no idea that this is a place that had a huge impact on punk rock and American culture, even back to the 60’s with The Standells, Beach Boys, The Doors, and Rick Griffin. Intellectuals and artists like Charles Bukowski, Thomas Pynchon, and Raymond Pettibon all used to hang out in Either/Or [Bookstore]. So many people know about South Bay punk bands like Black Flag, Descendents, Pennywise, and Minutemen, but there was also an infrastructure of record stores and other places that supported them at the time. Most of the physical history of the area has been largely wiped out, so we’re just trying to keep those memories alive.”
To shop Rat Beach Rags products, visit Ratbeachrags.com. Stay up to date with upcoming projects on the rat_beach_rags Instagram.