One of my first memories of a jukebox was at the El Paso institution of tacos known as Chico’s Tacos on Montana Street. The neon machine hung out next to the two arcade games on site, of which Street Fighter II was always occupied. I remember Paul Revere and the Raiders as one of the more obscure artists available. The selection was handpicked to fulfill the Tejano crazed fans that frequented the iconic eatery. My mom would sometimes allow me to ravage her purse for loose change. It was around the time that an uncle of mine allowed me to listen to “Help” on his turntable, so obvs I would put anything Beatles related.
Music curation is a daunting yet rewarding task for the music selector. In my high school years, we use to go to a bar in Juarez named Superior that specialized in Sex on the Beaches and an exquisite jukebox selection. Despite the dodgy vibe of the Juarez strip and extremely dimly lit seating area, any night could be YOUR night with a couple of quarters in hand. Superior is forever synonymous with the Outfield’s “Your Love.” The ’80s power ballad became a rallying cry for nights of debauchery and good times.
Denver’s best jukebox went the way of the old Northside of Denver. One of my favorite drinking haunts on 13th maintained a campy atmosphere with red leather couches and a music curation that must’ve been days in the making. We’re talking Pavement, Amy Winehouse, Jimmy Cliff, Talking Heads, Otis Redding and plenty more that escape me. Music curation use to make or break a bar. After ordering a third Old Fashioned, the surprise sounds of that forgotten Gram Parsons ballad instantly put me in a jovial mood.
The inception of TouchTunes has turned vibrant watering holes to sterile places of business. The intimacy is gone. People can access any song from any artist at any given time. On paper, the vast selection sounds like a sure thing, but the accessibility leaves bar flies a bit disconnected. It’s almost the equivalent of a Stepford Wife. Cheers to all of the curators out there. Happy Jukebox Day!