A lad I know was a regular in one of the pubs I used to frequent, which had a jukey that had the CD covers mapped in a 2x2 grid of a catalogue that rotated to show off what was in the box - generally 99 CD’s worth, likely a limitation of the input display than any software constraint.
Rather than scroll through the jukey CD’s, you could literally ask him a song and he’d give you the two digit CD number, and two digit track number from memory. It was impressive.
Or, you could put two quid in for 12 tracks or whatever, put on two bangers, and the other ten stupidly long November Rain style songs, or Christmas songs in July, by which point you’d have finished your drink and fucked off because the “skip song” control behind the bar had been gubbed for years - leaving your remaining ten songs to go on for hours, or to bring festive cheer to drinkers at half past three on a Monday afternoon in the summer.
Fun times - and very specific to a twenty or thirty year window in time, too.
A lad I know was a regular in one of the pubs I used to frequent, which had a jukey that had the CD covers mapped in a 2x2 grid of a catalogue that rotated to show off what was in the box - generally 99 CD’s worth, likely a limitation of the input display than any software constraint.
Rather than scroll through the jukey CD’s, you could literally ask him a song and he’d give you the two digit CD number, and two digit track number from memory. It was impressive.
Or, you could put two quid in for 12 tracks or whatever, put on two bangers, and the other ten stupidly long November Rain style songs, or Christmas songs in July, by which point you’d have finished your drink and fucked off because the “skip song” control behind the bar had been gubbed for years - leaving your remaining ten songs to go on for hours, or to bring festive cheer to drinkers at half past three on a Monday afternoon in the summer.
Fun times - and very specific to a twenty or thirty year window in time, too.