The Jester of the Jukebox.
It's been a staple for years. For decades. In fact, we're approaching a century during which time the jukebox has been around.
Such a fantastic concept. Gathering for a meal? Saddling up to the bar for a few drinks? Sounds great! Ya know what sounds even better? Even if it's just background noise? Music. And we're going to let you pick the flavor.
It's like prowling back and forth in front of the glass display at an ice cream shop. Take a gander. See what there is to offer. And once you've found what you like? That's when you pounce.
The jukebox placed the decision solely in the people's hands. However in doing so they unknowingly threw open the gates of Hell. For with great power comes great responsibility. Right? Didn't someone say that in a shitty Spiderman movie??
And here we are. Or rather, there YOU are. Just meeting up with a group of buddies to enjoy a game at the bar. Sound for your game would be spectacular but not mandatory. Foolish thinking. Because if they're not playing sound for the game then it can only mean that the barkeep has given control of the reigns to any and all patrons who think they've got the cure to your audio disease. Dammit. Brace yourselves for the onslaught.
Not too long ago the jukebox consisted of a collection of popular songs from which you could make a selection. Not too many choices to risk you hearing a rogue tune you've never heard of, yet enough to give you a different taste of one or more of the prevalent bands of that era.
Yet now?! Now the selections are infinite. Roughly the same amount of time that your migraine is going to last. Forever.
It happens too often. We all fall victim. Some yahoo strolls up to the jukebox of our era. The digital library of Satan. And it is there that they compile a list of songs so vile that it would make kids hate cotton candy AND Christmas.
The last thing I need to hear at the bar is 12 straight 'country' songs sung by douche bags in faded jeans and chain wallets. Or Britney Spears first album in its entirety. Because the dumpy gut skank in the back thinks it's what everyone should hear.
Oh! How'd you know?! How'd you know that the entire establishment was craving your double-wide trailer treasure trove of tunes filled with bullshit ranging from Three Doors Down to Miranda Lambert?! Listen sweetheart. Not a single soul in your general vicinity gives a hoot about your most recent breakup. Quite frankly we all wish he would have smacked you a little bit harder. Or perhaps we pick on the group of guys who have methodically gotten more and more drunk as the day wore on? Listen here. It's been at least 5 years since you graduated from college and we're hundreds of miles from your frat house. Play one more 'classic' from your heydays of Greek life and this whole place is going to erupt. No one wants to hear 'Pour Some Sugar On Me' more than once in a 24 hour span.
We've been ruined people. God damn Millennials strike again. They are convinced they've hand-picked the songs that will take us all to the promised land. Yet all we find ourselves doing is wondering how we can get away with murder and break the jukebox without having to pay for the damages.
Program that shit. Make it accessible only by credit card. That way any one person is allowed only 5 songs MAX. While we're at it, let's make the box audibly responsive. If a song receives a chorus of boos then the song stops immediately and it's on to the next. Conversely, if the crowd goes apeshit for a song and the entire place is singing along well then guess what?! That individual's selections play on!
I'm tired of having to stomach these piss poor jukebox disasters. Either we find a way to curb the epidemic or we get rid of them once and for all. Let's think about this one.
In the meantime, I'm going to head to my local watering hole and fill their jukebox with $20 worth of Chumbawamba 'hit's until people's ears bleed. Maybe that will get the message across. Who will be our Jukebox Hero??