There are football clubs.
And then there are clubs that could only have happened in one city.
The Los Angeles Aztecs were one of them.
In the 1970s, football in America was still trying to work out what it wanted to be. Los Angeles had already decided.
It wanted stars.
It wanted colour.
It wanted George Best.
It wanted Johan Cruyff.
And somehow, naturally, Hollywood came with it.
Elton John became part-owner of the Aztecs, buying into the club during the George Best years. This was not a celebrity turning up for a sponsored photograph. One of the biggest musicians on earth actually owned part of a Los Angeles football club.
Then there was Rod Stewart.
A genuine football obsessive, photographed with George Best and the Aztecs and appearing alongside members of the team during that extraordinary NASL period.
And Jack Nicholson.
Long before celebrity involvement in sport became a corporate marketing strategy, Nicholson was photographed wearing an L.A. Aztecs shirt around Hollywood.
Think about that combination for a second.
Elton John.
Rod Stewart.
Jack Nicholson.
George Best.
Johan Cruyff.
Los Angeles.
You couldn’t manufacture that now.
A marketing agency would spend six months making a PowerPoint about “cultural crossover.”
The Aztecs just lived it.
That is the world behind my song ONLY IN L.A.
It isn’t simply a song about an old football team.
It is about a moment when football, music, Hollywood and Los Angeles all crashed into each other.
When the bloke sitting near you might be a rock star.
When one of the owners might be Elton John.
When George Best could walk into town and look completely at home.
When Jack Nicholson wearing the shirt didn’t feel like a brand partnership.
It just felt like Los Angeles.
The original Aztecs disappeared.
That atmosphere shouldn’t have.
Because there are some stories you could move to another city.
This isn’t one of them.
This could only happen in L.A.
And that is why the song is called:
