The mob had interests in jukeboxes and entertainment unions and promotion companies, which not only allowed them to launder money and hide assets but gave them and their associates a cash cow to rip off performers, producers and songwriters through manipulation of sales, royalties, contracts and concerts/appearances. And if that failed there was the good old "Do what I say or I will hurt you" fallback.
Exactly, Lilo. Those guys miss vending, that's for sure. They're still in it to a degree, but nothing like before. Hell, you have to get bonded today to do just about anything involving that industry.
Anyway, the jukeboxes were really where they had you by the balls. If you didn't "play ball," as Lilo said, your records (the old 45s) didn't get into the jukeboxes. And it goes without saying that it wasn't exclusive to Doo-Wops. If you want to read a great book about how a guy got fucked for not playing along, I strongly suggest "Making the Wiseguys Weep: The Jimmy Roselli Story," by David Evanier.
Jimmy Roselli was an Italian American singer from Hoboken. He grew up on the same block as Sinatra and should have been much bigger than he was. He was big enough in the Northeast, and huge in some Italian American circles (like in my house), but he never really went national because of his thick head. When he refused Joe Colombo's request to play at a civil rights rally, his records wre pulled from all the jukeboxes in New York.
He was able to make a comeback later in life (he was big in Atlantic City from the late '80s thru the late '90s), but he lost out on his prime and he should have really been more successful than he was because the guy sang like an angel.
