No hanging Chad & Jeremys here: These jukeboxes are clear winners

Tim Piai
Special to The Plain Dealer

Dear Citizens,

Months of campaign double talk and tap-dancing debates have left us ready to beat on those who are beating around the bush (not on the Bush, necessarily). In other words, we're desperate for some straightforward, no-nonsense dialogue on any subject. So on behalf of the Stratocaster Party, here's our message to the rock 'n' roll capital:

Cleveland's jukeboxes stink.

Yes, my fellow citizens, they stink. They stink like Cincinnati on a hot, muggy day - and the only people who can't smell them are the ones who love hearing the same "greatest hits" music over and over to the point that the bartender is one "Love Shack" selection away from going postal.

Somewhere along the line, area jukeboxes must have contracted the same monotonous microbe that infected commercial radio - leaving thousands of disenfranchised people in bar after bar to fend for themselves against the likes of Jimmy Buffett's greatest hits. Or Van Morrison's greatest hits. Or Bob Marley's greatest hits.

So what in the "Hotel California" is going on?

It's simple. Broad, mainstream appeal. Aim for the Bud Dads and Miller Lite Moms. But what of the poets? Loading your jukebox used to be a statement, an art form. Now individual boxes are loaded with all the panache of a pancake flip. Subsequently, many a great bar-stool conversation must endure "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" barking in the background.

Furthermore, the Stratocaster Party's think-tank is troubled by the newer line of digital jukeboxes that further compromises our party's ability to...party.

While the new box at our local "headquarters" allows for a landslide of albums, its touch-screen format only allows us to choose the "hits" from an album. So if you like the Rolling Stones, you better like "Start Me Up" or "Satisfaction," and not "Dead Flowers."

So I ask you, good citizens, what kind of a world is it when you can only hear "Walk Like an Egyptian," "Sledgehammer," and "Piano Man"? Isn't there life beyond George Thorogood?

Here's our plan: Visit each one of the following jukebox heroes that Doug Trattner, John Petkovic and I have elected. With your support, I'm happy to say that, soon, we may all be spending our days secure in the notion that our city is safe from such threats as "Casey Jones," "Witchy Woman," and "Brown-Eyed Girl."

Thank you, and may Sony bless the following locations.

Juke joint: Grovewood Tavern & Wine Bar.
Address: 17105 Grovewood Ave., Cleveland.
Phone:216-531-4900.
The box: Digital Thunder (Think giant, cheesy boom box.)
Range: Billie Holiday to King Crimson to Air. (That's Air, mom, not Air Supply.) Highlights: Billie Holiday, "Greatest Hits"; King Crimson, "Sleepless"; Lemon Jelly, "Lost Horizons"; Buena Vista Social Club, "Buena Vista Social Club."
Guilty pleasure: Beatles, "Help."
3 Songs/$1: "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash, "Late in the Evening" by Paul Simon, and "Easy Living" by Billie Holiday.
Comments: When this jukebox had a four-pick flip-page that offered Nina Simone, Buena Vista Social Club, Miles Davis and "Exile on Main Street" last year, the first thing I wanted to do was to inquire about renting the apartment above the bar. After clearing my head I simply vowed to visit this restaurant/bar (which is heaven for low-key - and mostly unpretentious - music snobs) as much as possible. With names like Getz, Coltrane, Morcheeba, Bowie, the Clash and the Specials, cool music rains down on patrons - and the result is an atmosphere that's as satisfying as this little blink-of-a-bar's food and wine-by-the-glass selections. By the way, the finicky Thunder doesn't accept the new $5 bills. However, the old ones not only work, they usually end up giving you three extra selections to boot. (Piai)