Close your eyes and imagine Los Angeles. You might conjure palm trees, beaches and blue skies. Traffic-clogged freeways, the downtown skyline or the taco truck on your corner.
You know the looks of this city.
But do you know its sounds?
The rhythms and noises of a location can be as unique as a signature. Each place has its own.
Can you place these signature sounds of the Los Angeles area?
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This is Los Angeles International Airport. At LAX, you hear the same messages on repeat: Mayor Karen Bass welcoming you to the city, an advertisement to sign up for TSA PreCheck, a gate change announcement. One thing you won’t hear in the terminal is the roar of airplane engines (that’s by design).There is chatter in so many languages as travelers cross paths. As you wait for your suitcases to topple down the chut
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This is BMO Stadium.
The first time I went to an Angel City game, I didn’t know the cheers. Thankfully, a kind fan shared the words. The chants are in Spanish and in English, reflecting the fan-base of L.A.’s women’s pro soccer team. When a specific drum beat rings out, Angel City supporters know exactly what to shout.
When the announcer tries to get the crowd’s attention, it’s a woman’s voice. That’s not something you hear at every stadium.
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This is Griffith Park.
If you’re looking for peace and quiet in Griffith Park, don’t start by the drum circle. When they gather on Sundays, you can feel the energy in their improvised rhythms. Nearby, children scream as they run around a playground, interrupted by the occasional bell of an ice cream cart.
Heading up the hiking trails, you’re followed by the sound of your feet hitting gravel — and the caws of crows.
At the top there’s Griffith Observatory, where a Tesla coil spits electricity and telescope demonstrator Todd Kunioka guides visitors through the cosmos.
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This is the Santa Monica Pier.
The biggest gathering places tend to attract proselytizing, whether it’s in front of the White House, Times Square or at our own Santa Monica Pier. That’s the first thing you hear when you reach the end of Route 66: that Jesus loves you.
Walk farther along and you’ll hear the sounds of the gears of the West Coaster roller coaster — then the screams of its riders. Street performers’ competing stereos fight for your attention, and their melodic voices make it all the more romantic as the sun sets on the horizon.
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This is Venice Beach.
At the skate park, you know by sound whether or not someone lands a trick . When they miss, there’s skidding and clattering. If they land it, there’s a satisfying thud and the sound of polyurethane rolling on poured concrete. Then come the cheers.
There’s a friendly game of basketball (and its accompanying trash talk) on the courts. A young street performer shows off his Michael Jackson impression. Zoltar beckons you, for a small fee, to try for a new fortune.
You know the drill.
This is Angel’s Flight.
Angels Flight is a short ride: On the funicular, it takes about one minute to go from the bottom of downtown’s Bunker Hill to the top. But people make the most of it. Tourists pose for Instagram-perfect photos.
A bell jingles a warning: Your car, named either Sinai or Olivet, is arriving. It’s a rickety ride along the 123-year-old rails of what’s said to be the world’s shortest incorporated railway. Once you reach the top, the operator hands you a souvenir ticket stub paid with your Metro Tap card — the sound of old meeting new.
This story originally appeared on LA Times