Lyndsanity | Music for the masses: How Councilwoman Monica Rodriguez became L.A.’s alt-rock ambassador (2024)

Monica Rodriguez & Lyndsey Parker at the Elvis Costello/Daryl Hall show at the Greek Theater, June 2024
(photo: Sara Melson)

In the early ‘90s, a civic-minded San Fernando Valley high school student named Monica Rodriguez made the cover of the Los Angeles Times, protesting budget cuts to music programs in LAUSD schools as she took to the streets with a “Honk if you like music” sign.

Decades later, Rodriguez became a proud Councilwoman. And she still likes music very, very much.

“I have a beautiful district that is very diverse, and I want people to have an immense sense of pride for their own neighborhoods. And music is an incredible convener, which why I use musical events like this to help bring community together,” says Rodriguez, who has represented the Valley’s 7th district, which she has called home her entire life, since 2017. “We need to be a stronger force to combat what challenges and ails us as a city, and music is an important vehicle to bring people together. We can be as divergent in our ideologies as possible, but man, you can’t help but move when you hear that music. It brings everybody together and takes everyone’s guard down. It’s an important way of helping build a greater sense of community.”

Rodriguez has curated community cultural programming like the Pacoima Dia de los Muertos Festival, which gets bigger every year, and a 40th anniversary Purple Rain concert featuring former Prince band members. But Gen X L.A. music-lovers probably know her best for her celebrations of the alt-rock heroes she grew up listening to on KROQ. The Cure, Depeche Mode, the Specials, Madness, the English Beat, Morrissey, and even veteran KROQ DJ Richard Blade have all received official L.A. holidays, ceremoniously decreed by longtime superfan Rodriguez; Rodriguez’s shortlist of future honorees includesDuran Duran (“I just saw them at the Cruel World fest and they were amazing,” she says excitedly), her teenhood favorites Tears for Fears, and hometown heroes the Go-Go’s. Rodriguez’s music playlists could rival Barack Obama’s!

In all seriousness, while Rodriguez doesn’t currently aspire to run for president or any higher office, preferring her Doc-Martens-boots-on-the-ground approach in her own beloved community, her passion for politics absolutely matches her passion for post-punk. (Read more about her work and initiatives here.) With a hip female presidential candidate of color with cool music taste currently generating headlines (and music memes), this seems like the perfect time for a closer-to-home chat with Rodriguez about music and making a difference.

LYNDSANITY: So, you were raised in the San Fernando Valley, like I was. Tell me about your background, growing up in L.A.’s rich music scene.

MONICA RODRIGUEZ: Yes, I grew up in the San Fernando Valley in the community of Arleta. I went to Pacoima Junior High and San Fernando High School, and it was when I was in junior high that I started deviating from a lot of the music that was popular amongst many of my friends. … I really got into the alternative music scene and was listening to the Cure, Depeche Mode. I’ve always been a big Tears for Fears fan too.

As a child, music was always a part of my life. I was always encouraged to sing and all of that. My parents are both immigrants from Mexico and my grandfather was a professional mariachi, so music was just always a thing. My parents grew up during the Motown era; my dad went to Vietnam. So, when I talk about my eclectic music history, it’s pretty diverse — it goes from the Chicano oldies to Motown to you name it. I’ve always listened to everything. But then I discovered the alternative music scene. I cut my hair and had my steel-toed shoes and my Contempo Casuals skirt — I remember friends not even recognizing me when I first came back to [middle] school one year, with my haircut and black lipstick! I just went full-on mod. I just got so into it. I don’t want to say I was an outcast, but it was definitely very distinguishing from what was popular at the time in my environment.

How did your parents react to this black-lipstick mod makeover and all that?

Oh, I’m the eldest, and so I was really testing the waters! I went through some extreme haircuts, my Doc Martens and the whole bit. My dad was not a big fan, and they definitely let it know. My parents were like, “What are you doing? What is this?” And it was funny… I haven’t been without a job since I was 16 years old, but the impetus for [getting my first job] was really because I wanted to be able to buy my Docs and my clothes without permission. I was like, “It’s my money. I’ll spend my money on what I want!”

Where did you work?

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Actually, my first job was at Magic Mountain! I was there for about six months. … And then I started working at Coco’s, in the one that used to be on Roscoe, and I became a waitress. I was there a long time.

So, you’ve always been a hustler and hard worker.

Yes. When I was in college, I was working three part-time jobs. I was going to school full-time and working full-time to get through it and pay for it all.

Can I assume that KROQ had a lot to do with your passion for alternative music? In the ‘80s and ‘90s, KROQ was playing so many artists that stations across the rest of the U.S. were not. I don’t think L.A. kids even realized at the time how luckythey were to have KROQ.

Yeah, absolutely. I still have the original KROQ bumper sticker that was all geometric shapes and whatnot on my boombox! KROQ was very much a huge influence in that. … And it was basically through that music that I ended up finding friends, one of whom is now my husband! We used to go to Oingo Boingo and all kinds of shows together, forever cementing my interest in the alternative music scene.

You have honored many classic KROQ acts, and also Richard Blade. What made you want to start this tradition?

I think when people think about Los Angeles, it’s the city where [bands] are made or broken. Really, Los Angeles is the place where you come to fulfill your dreams. It’s where music and artistry are. It’s where the industry that you’re going to break into is. And I think to be recognized by the city that is home to all that is a truly big honor. What I had seen over the course of my time working for other elected officials was that they honored musicians and artists, but alternative musicians were never on that list, ever. Like, I’m a huge Lionel Richie fan. Lionel Richie was the first concert my parents ever took me to. And when we honored Lionel Richie — this was before I was elected on the City Council – and I got to meet him, I told him, “You were the gateway in many ways, in terms of my affection for going to concerts. It was born out of that very first experience.” But the alternative artists were never recognized or celebrated in the same way. I was really the first to do that, because someone of my age group who grew up listening to that music had never been on the City Council before! I just became one of the first to say, “This genre matters too.” And so, it became my thing.

I’m just a huge lover of music, and it was my opportunity to finally give acknowledgement to those bands. I always say they’re the ones that healed your life when you were facing difficult circ*mstances. I mean, how many times did you turn on the radio or play a song over and over and over again to help you get through a difficult time? That’s what music always was for me. It was healing. It was that respite. It was that therapy. So, to be able to recognize the musicians whose music was part of my adolescence and adulthood, that was huge.

I vividly remember you honoring the Specials, a multiracial group, in 2019 when Terry Hall was still alive. You said their legacy was “emblematic of the strength derived from our diversity here in Los Angeles. Their music is an example that embracing our differences and uniqueness makes us more powerful.” I love that quote. There are so many deserving acts that you could honor, so when you’re making these decisions, what is the criteria?

I think you have to look at the longevity [of a potential honoree]. When you look at the longevity of Robert Smith and the Cure, or Depeche Mode, what these artists bring for not just the entertainment value but for the local economy, they’re all doing something really remarkable. And when you amplify and multiply that by their longevity, it’s huge. When I look at the fact that the Cure or Depeche Mode can sell out the Hollywood Bowl multiple nights, these are really big milestones. And none of us are getting any younger, so we should be honoring these individuals for everything that they’ve done and also for helping to build upon the Los Angeles story of, “Man, if you make it here, you’re going to make it anywhere.” Why not celebrate that?

What are your memories of honoring Depeche Mode in 2023?

When I honored them on the City Hall steps and declared “Depeche Mode Day,” Martin [Gore] said L.A. was really what helped launch them. They had that following here [first], and then it really took off. Of course, KROQ was an important part of that. L.A. is where a lot of the fanbase was developed. There’s that saying about never meeting your heroes because they might disappoint you, but I have been really just awed by how humble and kind everyone has been and by how honored they feel. Honestly, I feel that for the first time these musicians are getting recognized in spaces that I don’t even think they ever thought possible, but where other mainstream artists have been recognized. I’m just so grateful to be in a position to be able to celebrate them for everything that they’ve given not just me in my life, but how many lives and how many people they’ve touched.

Who was the first artist you created a special day for?

When I first got elected, Morrissey was the first individual that I honored. And honestly, it was like, “Well, don’t ask, don’t get!” I knew he was in town. I’d gone to so many of his concerts over the course of my life; it’s got to be in the forties or fifties, the amount of times that I’ve seen him. And I thought, “He is really revered in Los Angeles and he’s got a huge following here. I’m going to honor him!” I remember when I asked, even the promoters were like, “It’s highly unlikely that he’s going to say yes.” And I said, “Yeah, well, ask anyway!” And I was surprised — I had only been in office a few months when he said yes. And he was actually very enthusiastic about it.

Post-punk ‘80s acts like the Cure, Depeche Mode, and the Smiths — especially Morrissey and the Smiths — have such devoted followings among the Latin community in Los Angeles. Do you have any theories as to why?

When I think about the lyrics of Morrissey. … I mean, there’s been a lot of hypothesis around that, honestly. I think the lyrics connect and land based on some of the struggles or circ*mstances, or just frankly, the truth. That kind of raw, unvarnished truth, I think, really lands accurately. You’ll hear it in mariachi music too. So, the Smiths and Morrissey’s music has garnered a huge following because it definitely does resonate with a huge swath of our community. But I’ve gone to so many [Morrissey] shows [elsewhere], and [the audience] is as diverse as it is in Los Angeles.

Have Morrissey’s political statements in recent years it bothered you? They bother me, even though I still love the music. There is that whole separating-the-artist-from-the-art debate…

I mean, I didn’t honor him for his politics. I honored him for his music. What’s really hard and what’s difficult about it for me is — and this precedes, I think, some of the more recent controversies and whatnot — is when everyone was like, “Would you do it over again? Would you have done that, knowing what you know now?” I said, “Look, I can’t judge a person based on that. But based on the music…” well, I still enjoy the music. I was a huge Michael Jackson fan too as a little girl, and I still am. But my politics and my positions are born out of the needs of people and my focus on what my responsibility is, and I will be judged on my politics.

Monica Rodriguez celebrates “Morrissey Day” in Los Angeles in 2017. (photo: Mathew Tucciarone)

How did you get into politics?

Basically, it was the L.A. riots. My dad was among the first Latino firefighters on the L.A. City Fire Department. Coming over into this country and then getting a great middle-class job, that afforded me a really wonderful childhood, the kind that allowed me to go see Lionel Richie when I was 8 or 9 years old. There was so much I was really very fortunate to have as a young girl growing up in my neighborhood, compared to some of other friends who perhaps didn’t have as much available to them. Fast-forward, and my dad was on duty the night the L.A. riots broke out. It was my senior year in high school. He was dispatched to Florence and Normandie. I had just gotten home from school, and I was glued to the television watching the riots unfold, live on television. We didn’t have cell phones or social media then, so I stayed up all night with my mom watching the television, waiting to get updates, to see what was happening, because we had zero communication with my dad. There were reports of firefighters being shot. It was complete mayhem. It was the longest night of my life, because growing up being the eldest, we were very fortunate that my mom was able to stay home, but I was raised to think, “OK, your father’s in a very volatile job, and if something happens, Monica, you’re going to have to be in charge.” My dad was always teaching me how to do things in case something happened. I grew up always very mindful of the eminent danger that he was in and the role that he had. He was the sole breadwinner for our family. I grew up with that immense sense of responsibility that I would be the person caring for my family.

So, the morning comes, and at about 4:30 or 5 o’clock in the morning we finally get a call from my dad saying he was OK. We had been getting reports from the television, but we don’t know which firefighter was shot. And it turns out he made the cover of the L.A. Times because his firetruck sustained multiple rounds from a semi-automatic. The bullet holes were literally… if it was about an inch or two higher, he would’ve been hit, because he was the driver of the hook-and-ladder. His windshield was shattered because they threw a brick or trash can or something at it. And my dad said, “I’ve been to war, I was in Vietnam, and I’ve never seen anything like this.” That left an imprint on me. The beating of Rodney King left an imprint on me. The subsequent riots left an indelible mark on me. As a child, I thought I would pursue a career to become a big star on Broadway, doing musical theater, but it was in that moment that I said, “No. I’m going to go fix what’s wrong with our city.”

I then became wholly focused. When I went to Occidental College, I was a politics major. At 20 years of age, I got my first full-time job working for a councilman so I could learn how the city works, so I could be effective, because I was like, “I’m going to be the one to fix it! It’s going to be me! I’m going to change it!” I’ve dedicated my life to learning as much as I can to being as effective and as transparent and as accountable as I am. And I’m still damn determined to make sure that I’m the one who helps fix the city.

Are you involved in any kind of initiatives to sort of preserve the arts in education in L.A.? So many schools, across the nation, have lost funding for music and arts education, sadly.

I am! Did you see The Last Repair Shop? It’s a small documentary on a repair shop that repairs all the musical instruments for all the bands in L.A. Unified. It’s one of the last remaining repair shops in the country that is all publicly funded. And so, I honored them. I honored the director and the filmmaker as well as the individuals that actually work at the repair shop, because when I was in high school, I was in choir and my then-boyfriend was in the band. I had a ton of friends that were in band, back in the ‘90s when music programs were under duress of being cut. And they were, in fact, being cut. There’s a great L.A Times photograph of me in high school wearing my letterman jacket, protesting cuts to music in schools. They used it in the film. I’m out there next to my girlfriend who’s holding a sign that says, “Honk if you like music.”

After the documentary The Last Repair Shop, they started a fund to help continue to sustain the apprenticeship associated with maintaining the musical instruments at the shop. Because again, education isn’t simply about reading, writing, and arithmetic. It is about that space for expression. It’s a very therapeutic experience. And I said this to the superintendent: For many kids, it can be the one motivating factor to actually perform academically, because they want to be in band. It’s a great incentive, and it’s also a really great educational tool that cannot afford to be cut. I’m a huge, huge advocate for music in schools. I think it’s really important for every succeeding generation to continue to protect it, because it is definitely being lost. And music is something that I think is important just for civilization.

That’s amazing. I bet you have inspired a lot of young people, particularly young women and Latina women, to pursue a life of service. You’re like the hip councilwoman. You have the hip haircut…

Oh, but my hair is smaller now! [laughs]

But it’s still a hip haircut! Basically, you’re a politician that younger people can relate to, because you champion music and still go to concerts. Surely you’ve had interactions with younger people who’ve said you’ve made them want to go into politics when they grow up.

Yes, I have. For me, it’s really important that people understand their “why.” My “why” was born out of some of the injustice that I saw, some of the experiences that my dad endured, and a direct interest in wanting to care for my community and to help improve this city. I’ve actually started an organization called Latinas Lead California so we could help support other Latinas that are running for public office, because while we can inspire as many people as we want, the ability to help garner support for individuals to be successful is a far different conversation. I ran for office originally back in 2007, and the institutional forces at the time said, “Oh, Monica, it’s not your turn. Wait your turn.” And they tried to get me to stand down. I ran anyway, and I narrowly lost to a former incumbent. So, the system wasn’t always eager to receive somebody who had greater ambition to help change something.

One of my former colleagues used to joke about this: A man wakes up, puts on a black suit with a red tie, and he’s “presidential material.” But as women, we are scrutinized far more. I have to be 10 times more prepared than my male counterparts, and I’m still scrutinized. It’s just the obstacles that are put up for women to run for office. It’s very real. It’s reflected in the lack of financial support that comes naturally to women that are running for office. Forget about ethnicity; it’s just in general. I mean, you saw with Hillary Clinton — as experienced as she was, it was ignored. It was “oh, but she’s still a woman” and “oh, she’s terrible.” So, the standards for women are still very difficult. I’ve done a lot to try and mentor and support other women that are eager to run for public office, and I don’t make it easy for them, only because I said, “The system isn’t going to be made easy for you. You just have to know that at every juncture, someone’s going to tell you no. It’s how you prepare yourself to meet that ‘no’ that is going to determine whether or not you make it or not.” I don’t ever want to sugarcoat it for anybody. I’m not known for my sugarcoating! But it’s born out of the experience that I had of how many times I was told no. And yet, I persist.

So, do you aspire to run for a higher office someday?

I’ve received that question my fair share, and honestly, right now, the role that I have been elected to lead in, as a member of the L.A. City Council, is one that the 18-year-old version of myself imagined when she said, “I’m going to be the one to change it.” I show up every day, focused on being the person to change it. I believe that if I continue to show up for my community and show up for the city to do that job, the rest will work itself out. I’m just here to do the very best job I can do with the title that I have. I’m very proud of this title. I’m very proud and privileged and honored to be in this work and in this role. And I want to prove to myself that there’s no one that does it better.