Feature by Mike Martinez
Published
January 4, 1989
UCSD
Guardian Hiatus Entertainment
BACKSTORY: In December, 1988, the Hard Rock Café opened
its first San Diego area franchise in toney downtown La Jolla. Located just a
10-minute, last chance power drive from campus, the HRC was a natural draw for
a curious UCSD community.
“It is definitely a hot spot, and what’s even hotter than the spot is the merchandising: Everywhere you go, you see people wearing Hard Rock Café T-shirts and sweatshirts.” – Lisa Protter, Director of Creative Services, MEGA Sponsorship Co.
American
Pop’s Franchise for the Hip held its San Diego premiere last month, complete
with publicity blitz and celebrity no-shows. Located on Prospect Street, the
Hard Rock Café is approximately one short FAX away from La Jolla’s financial
district.
While a rock
cachet and the selling of upscale burgers is part of the mix, fully one-third
of the total annual revenues of the nine Hard Rock Cafes are from merchandising
– shirts, jackets, hats, and other casual wear.
The Hard
Rock logo is one of America’s hottest status symbols.
Except for
special events, there is no live rock music to be heard at the HRC. In the big
business of rock ‘n’ roll, Hard Rock style, the selling of the status is the
essential transaction. That’s why you see so many HRC shirts and jackets.
At one time,
when rock ‘n’ roll first became an adjective, the title was earned by being
outrageous, or through a sense of rebellion and originality. In the ‘80s it’s a
lot simpler – you can just purchase Hard Rock apparel that sends your message
of rock ‘n’ roll individuality.
The Hard
Rock Café also provides a place to see and be seen, just like the L.A. and New
York celebs.
Cheeseburger in Paradise
The choice
of San Diego for a Hard Rock location symbolizes this town’s arrival and
national reputation as a hotbed for new trends.
The first
Hard Rock was opened in London in 1971 by Americans Isacc Tigrett and Peter
Morton. They felt there was a need for an American-style hamburger joint with a
sense of the innocence, fun, energy and excitement that postwar American
exemplified. In other words, a place with the same qualities that rock n’ roll
has.
Peter Morton
(of the restaurateur Morton family) has a savvy marketing strategy for every
aspect of the clubs, from décor to venue. Like the inventors of Trivial
Pursuit, he is a great success story of the baby boomer generation – of those
who have gotten rich marketing the popular culture they grew up with.
It wasn’t
until 1982 that Morton and his Hard Rock Cafes invaded the USA. With backing
from Willie Nelson and Steven Spielberg (a co-owner of the San Diego location),
he opened the first HRC in Los Angeles. Hollywood – it had to figure.
In
subsequent years, Morton has merged a rock sensibility with marketing smarts to
target new locales in America: San
Francisco, New York, Chicago, Houston, and New Orleans. All are cities with
unique musical traditions.
By the time
the Honolulu club (with no national musical reputation to speak of outside of
Don Ho) opened in 1987, the Hard Rock had gone big time. It was now more than a
trendy rock joint – it had become a tourist attraction in its own right.
And what
better place for a tourist franchise than San Diego?
The
rock memorabilia concept was not in the original HRC format. According to lore,
it began when Eric Clapton left a guitar at the London Hard Rock to mark his
favorite spot to sit. Upon seeing that, Pete Townshend sent one of his own over
as a stroke of “one-upsmanship.”
The Times
They Are A-Changin'
According to
Peter Morton’s corporate strategy guide, the Hard Rock environments reflect the
“fun and innocence of an American roadside diner in the late 1950s.” Even the
music played in the clubs is subject to his personal guidelines.
That rock n’
roll can now be outlined in a corporate policy sheet reflects how far into the
mainstream it has evolved. In the late
1950s, the era the HRCs so faithfully attempt to evoke, no company larger than
Joe’s Motorcycle Repair wanted anything to do with rock n’ roll.
Back then,
the music was considered dangerous. The paranoia of that time in now the stuff
of popular legend. Elvis’ pelvis banned from TV shots. The belief that “race
records” made teenagers horny and criminal, resulting in reefer smoking and sex
orgies. The terms “juvenile delinquent” and “rock n’ roll” were synonymous.
By the early
1960s, the paranoia died out and rock genuinely came to represent fun and high
spirits, with the offerings of Frankie and Fabian evoking a sweeter kind of
puppy love.
With the
paranoia days in retrospect, a rock n’ roll attitude did begin to take form. It
was an adjective that came to embody anti-establishment and rugged
individualism. Standard bearers were Marlon Brando, James Dean, early Elvis (as
opposed to the vacant fop of his later flicks), Jack Kerouac, and other sullen
rebels.
In short,
rock n’ roll was anything your parents didn’t approve of.
By the late
60s and 70s, rock n’ roll described an outlaw lifestyle of excess, epitomized
by the likes of Keith Richards, Jimi Hendrix, Keith Moon and John Belushi.
There were
far too many casualties.
In time, a
sense of responsibility and compassion, even a little temperance, became part
of what rock is. With Live Aid, the working class values of Bruce Springsteen,
and the political conscience of U2, rock n’ roll grew up. Many veteran stars
like Tina Turner and Roy Orbison enjoyed resurgence.
As for Keith
Richards, he’s now happily married with two daughters.
Rock This Town
I skipped the press pass that would have gained entry for opening night, this past Sunday, December 11th. In my book, rock ‘n’ roll is not about opening night, with mayors, ex-mayors and other rich shakers shutting out the common folk.
Rock ‘n’
roll is more like Thursday, half past midnight, with nowhere to be and nowhere
to go.
I walked in
to Hard Rock a few nights later, and was nearly impaled by a monstrous pink
Cadillac that crashed through the ceiling. I calmly snorted my Bud Light with
the pink creature lodged just inches from my head.
That’s when
I looked around and spotted some of the highly touted rock memorabilia. It’s
everywhere you turn.
Gold records
from Motley Crue. A sketch by Peter Townshend by his pal John Entwistle. They
also took Pete’s guitar and converted it into a large bar. There were more
guitars – Carl Wilson’s and Billy Idol’s among others.
If it’s drums
you like, there were ones autographed by Phil Collins and the Doors. How about
rockin’ duds? You could find Ringo’s suit, a t-shirt signed by Jagger, or the
shirt Jimi wore at the Isle of Wight.
And even
some clothing from…Sid Vicious. Phew! Hope they took it to the dry cleaners
first.
I must admit
the place had a kooky sense of atmosphere. The clientele were a mixed bag of
tourists, stockbrokers, and secretaries who strolled across the street from Drexel
Burnham Lambert. There were other scene makers trying out their act in the
trendiest new “in” spot.
I approached
a group of ladies for some social intercourse. Judging by the subtle sneers,
several of them must have thought I was just some moon-faced swinger cruising
for phone numbers – and not a serious journalist.
One finally
gushed that San Diego “needed to grow up and shed its image as a retirement
town.”
No doubt
about it, this was a woman from a bigger city, whose ideas about ours were
formed years ago from inaccurate news coverage – the type of short blurbs that
depict us as a suburb of L.A. or a busload of sailors looking for sin and a
tattoo. After a perfunctory tour of the Zoo, of course.
Well lady,
the two surf bums I spoke to later don’t think you’re what rock ‘n’ roll is
about. They’d just as soon keep out the trendy riffraff, and ‘rowdyize’ the
place a bit, making it more like the Pennant in Mission Beach. They loathe the
types for whom the most important reason for the existence of the Hard Rock
Cafe is to have a place to buy the shirts.
Let it Rock
Rock ‘n’
roll in 1989 is for everyone – stockbrokers, surf bums, working women and rich
kids in matching club windbreakers. In time, the Hard Rock Café should
represent more than a trendy tourist stop.
It has
always been Peter Morton’s intention to donate food, services and money to
charities and nonprofit organizations. Opening night in San Diego was for the
benefit of the Child Abuse Foundation, and it surely is part of the corporate
game plan for the HRC to become synonymous with community fundraising and many
other big events.
It’s only
rock ‘n’ roll – and this town’s ready.