In an era of iPods, Internet radio, DJs and high-tech sound systems, the venerable jukebox is still an object of fascination.

It's hard not to grin when Elvis Presley's "Jailhouse Rock" crackles from the speakers of a 1957 Seeburg jukebox at the Luna Park Cafe, a West Seattle diner caught in a midcentury time warp:

"Let's rock, everybody, let's rock/ Everybody in the whole cell block/ Was dancin' to the jailhouse rock."

Collectors cherish jukeboxes from an era of flamboyant industrial design -- the 1930s, '40s, '50s and '60s. The vintage Seeburg at Luna Park features a glass top, lots of chrome and speakers that resemble the stern of a 1950s Cadillac.

But today's commercial jukebox is more likely to play CDs or download music directly from the Internet -- and take credit cards instead of coins or dollar bills. There may even be a "touch screen" for navigation.

Still, choosing your own music and sharing it with a roomful of people at a bar, cafe or restaurant hasn't lost its allure.

"I just think jukeboxes are cool," says Linda Derschang, managing owner of Linda's Tavern on Capitol Hill.

"I've always been a fan of the dive bar, and a good dive bar has a great jukebox."

Evidence of the jukebox's staying power can be seen all over Seattle, where taverns often have jukeboxes stocked with CDs by such local bands as The Gits, Melvins, Mudhoney and Murder City Devils, as well as national groups Green Day, Radiohead, and the Flaming Lips. And there's always a little Dean Martin, Ray Charles or Johnny Cash.

Singer Chan Marshall, aka Cat Power, just released "Jukebox," an album that pays tribute to a bygone era with songs originally recorded by Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra, Hank Williams and Janis Joplin.

Last year, Amy Winehouse, the bad-girl British singer-songwriter known for her retro coolness, routinely cranked up the jukebox at one of her favorite London bars, playing the soul classics that inspired her. At Linda's Tavern, Winehouse's hit single, "Rehab," was played so frequently on the jukebox that it was driving employees crazy.

"We had to take it off," Derschang said with a smile.

Some history

The modern jukebox is a descendant of coin-operated phonographs that were mass-produced in the 1890s.

By the 1930s, these phonographs became known as "jukeboxes" in the South, where isolated rural shacks (or "jook houses") were used by field workers for drinking and dancing. The term was considered derogatory, and at least one manufacturer, Wurlitzer, resisted its use for decades.

The top brands in the heyday of the jukebox -- the 1930s, '40s, '50s and '60s -- were Rock-Ola (named for founder David C. Rockola), Wurlitzer, Seeburg and AMI.

The most iconic jukebox of the 20th century was the Wurlitzer "bubbler," a glitzy, round-topped machine introduced immediately after World War II. The eye-catching design, which is being reproduced today, featured glowing light panels and bubbling tubes.

In 1950, Seeburg introduced a machine that played vinyl 45s, the latest innovation in sound recording.

Tableside or "wall box" remote selectors became popular in restaurants in the 1950s, '60s and '70s. Today, the devices still can be seen on "Happy Days" reruns and at such retro restaurant chains as Johnny Rockets, where modern technology helps them run smoothly.

In the 1950s, restaurant owners kept jukeboxes humming by asking waitresses to mark quarters with a daub of their nail polish before depositing them. The coins were later returned to the waitresses so they could be reused.

Jukebox scenes were once common in the movies, from "The Wild One," starring Marlon Brando (1953), to "The Accused," with Kelly McGillis and Jodie Foster (1988). My personal favorite is a scene from "Giant," the 1956 epic starring Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor and James Dean, in which cattle rancher Bick Benedict (Hudson) dukes it out with the racist owner of a roadside diner while "The Yellow Rose of Texas" booms from the jukebox.

The old style jukeboxes like the one in "Giant" aren't practical today. Luna Park Cafe is one of the few establishments operating an antique jukebox. The cafe was formerly a tavern with a temperamental vintage jukebox.

"Places like that don't survive in Seattle," said John Bennett, a jukebox collector and owner of Luna Park.

"It's like the old Dog House restaurant. They had a great jukebox, with wall boxes at every table. People today want high-tech, computerized music programming."

Derschang, managing owner of Linda's Tavern, also laments the demise of places like the Dog House.

"We've lost so many of our great dives in Seattle," she said.

Posted:  29th. January 2008