In the late '80s, when the arrival of home consoles such as the Mega Drive and SNES hinted at the arrival of coin-op perfect graphics, arcade companies quickly upped the ante with more dynamic visuals, powered by expensive graphics technology and sensory devices such as hydraulics and force feedback. But this came at a cost - and it was directly passed on to you, the punter. At a quid a pop, somehow that 'one last go' now seemed less appealing.

Most of all, though, coin-op companies knew that their state-of-the-art creations needed to be seen if they were to be played by more people. In a bid to take arcade gaming out of the hands of the geeks and into the mainstream they spent millions creating an acceptable facade for their entertainment. The result was the Family Entertainment Center (FEC) - the plush, corporate-owned leisure complex that tried to do for gaming what multiplex cinemas and huge malls ('where it never rains') did for movies and shopping.

In this transition, the clunky, wooden, stand-up cabinets housing cheap, replaceable games were superseded by technical showcases of a higher calibre - Strider was out and a deluxe, sit-down Virtua Racing was in. The pasty youth lurking by the Double Dragon machine was duly shown the door. The arcade grew up.

But while the likes of Sega World and Dave and Busters entertainment chain have pulled in a more diverse crowd (and there are less crushed fags on the plush carpets), the coin-op industry today is finding it tougher than ever to compete.

And it doesn't take a genius to see why. When the PlayStation and Saturn arrived in Japan in late 1994 they effectively pulled the carpet from under the arcade companies' feet. With accurate renditions of Ridge Racer and Virtua Fighter running on small grey boxes under the telly, the shiny allure of the coin-op has begun to fade. Since then the guys behind them have found it harder to create experiences that are, at least comparable, and at best, better than those in the home.