Well. This is Disappointing.

The booth in which the final scene of The Sopranos took place doesn't have Don't Stop Believing in the jukebox.

Yes, which is a reminder of the insane shit they ate on the show:

...can these people eat ANYthing that’s not fucking uber-Italian? Wtf? Every fucking piece of food, its pasta, it’s bruschetta, blahblahscotti. I understand pasta et al is your culture’s go-to meal, I’m cool with that – big celebratory meal, break out the spaghetti bolognese. But Tony comes waddling down the stairs in his robe, peeks his head in the fridge, and asks for what – piece of pie? Leftover meat loaf? No, of course he’s screaming “what happened to all the fucking Gnocchi di semolino??!!!” And Carmen never shoots back with “Sit down and shut up, I’ll make you a tuna fish sandwich”, she’s always like “I’ll make some pansotti alla genovese, go get dressed!” to wit he grunts. Or whit. Wichever.

Enough; every fucking scene they gotta prove how Italian these fuckers are. Here’s Pauly slicing proscutto in the shower, here’s Chrissy eating pizza with 2 spoons. We get it. You’re Italian: you like pasta, you live at home til you’re 40 and you’re the loudest braying ass in whichever room you’re in. You’re more Italian than me, congratulations, you win. Just once, just once can we get one of these mfs burning his hand pulling the frozen tater tots outta the oven with a Little Debbie Fudge Round stuck in his mouth?