The jukebox at Geno’s Rock Club in Portland. Photo by Aimsel Ponti
A jukebox pursuit in Portland turned into a learning experience about the evolution of the magic machines that play songs on demand.
I set out last week hoping to find a vintage Wurlitzer with bubbling lights and stocked with well-worn vinyl 45s. But I soon realized there weren’t any of those or, for that matter, even any that played CDs.
Apparently I haven’t been paying close enough attention and still have a foot in the olden days of the high school pizza joint I worked at with a vinyl-playing jukebox.
The advent of both the internet and MP3 song file format meant that once the late ’90s hit, old-school jukeboxes were no longer needed. Now, digital TouchTunes jukeboxes dominate the bar scene.
The TouchTunes website said that the company formed and made its first machines in 1998. The TouchTunes app was released in 2010.
When I realized this would be all I would come across on my jukebox crawl of Portland, initially, I was a bit crestfallen, but then I realized that digital has its perks in that thousands upon thousands of songs were at my disposal, rather than the hundred or so the vinyl ones could hold.
While the technology has changed, the satisfaction of hearing exactly what I want still exists, even without that sweet, crackling sound of a dusty needle hitting vinyl.
Instead of quarters, TouchTunes machines take dollar bills and credit cards, or you can play songs using the TouchTunes app, depending on where you are.
The David Bowie offerings at the jukebox in Rosie’s in Portland. Photo by Aimsel Ponti
While visiting Rosie’s pub in the Old Port, I slid two bucks into the machine and typed in searches for David Bowie and Sinead O’Connor. Before I was back at my seat, I was hearing “Starman” followed by O’Connor’s “Mandinka.”
During dinner, I downloaded the app and learned I could play songs without even getting up. But that’s not all. I could also play songs at other places with TouchTunes machines. I could have sent a Dolly Parton tune over to Dock Fore a few doors down, had I been so inclined.
Over at Geno’s Rock Club in the Arts District, owner Kathyrn Taylor said that there have been times when she’s sure that specific songs have been played remotely by bitter people who know their ex is on the premises. Ouch. But also amusing.
But think of the more positive uses. Imagine being about to propose and queuing up the perfect love song during the big moment. Or maybe you’ve got a surprise vacation to spring on someone. As long as the song isn’t “Kokomo,” nobody will get hurt.
Taylor also said that she bought an Emerald jukebox that plays CDs, and she plans to replace the TouchTunes one with it at some point. She plans to fill it with punk and metal to keep in line with the aesthetic of Geno’s.
Diagonally across the street at The Downtown Lounge, manager Carl Currie explained that he and his staff reserve the right to skip tunes they feel don’t fit the vibe of the place. Although this resulted in a bad review on Yelp because of a canceled Taylor Swift track, Currie doesn’t mind if that customer doesn’t come back.
The jukebox at Howie’s Pub in Portland. Photo by Aimsel Ponti
My jukebox journey also brought me to Howie’s Pub in East Deering. Owner Joe Hardy said the clientele is big on Grateful Dead, The Beatles and ’70s rock. Regular Steven Munson of Gorham has been going to Howie’s for five or six years and is a frequent flyer with the jukebox. His taste ranges from Sturgill Simpson to Van Halen, The Misfits, My Morning Jacket and Incubus.
Other spots I hit were Samuel’s Bar & Grill, Ruski’s Tavern, Forest Gardens and Commercial Street Pub. They all had TouchTunes machines hanging on their walls.
Music fans could dive and conquer with a strategically planned jukebox crawl. This could be a fun way to celebrate, for example, the 50th anniversary of Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon.” One track at a time at each spot.
The TouchTunes app has a feature that tells you, based on your current location, where other machines are. Maybe I’ll send a tune to Pizzaiolo or Old Port Billiards. Just because I can.
I imagine that somewhere in Maine, a few working vintage machines, the full-size type or table-top model, must be out there. The quest will continue, but for now, armed with the TouchTunes app, I’m a mobile DJ in Portland, and that suits me fine.
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