The Nabisco ad in the issue included the illustration shown above of a of a Record Party. “Let the gang bring the records they like best … you supply the Ritz. Favorite bands and favorite cracker–what more could the ‘gaters’ want for a good time!” I’m not sure what a “gater” is, but the gaters shown here seem to be having fun. According to the ad, Ritz crackers were also suitable for a backyard picnic, or just a quiet evening at home.
Today, the ability to listen to music is something we take for granted, and it has been for a little over a century. But for most of human history, you could listen to music only when there was someone around who was able to play it. In other words, most of the time, if you wanted music, you had to make it yourself.
A century ago, the phonograph was already well established. But as this ad shows, most people still remembered what it was like before. The ad appeared in the July 1919 issue of Popular Science.
Sixty years ago this month, the June 1959 issue of British magazine Radio Constructor showed how to put together this one valve radiogram. For readers on this side of the pond, that means a one-tube radio-phono combination. A single ECL80 dual tube served as audio amplifier for both the radio and phonograph. A simple crystal set using a germanium diode pulled in the local stations on either long wave or medium wave.
In addition to showing how to put together the simple circuit, the magazine promised that the cabinet work would be lucidly explained so that no difficulty would be experienced, even by a beginner. A power transformer assured safe operation, and a single DP3T switch was used to select longwave, mediumwave, or gramophone.
Sixty years ago this month, the May 1959 issue of Popular Mechanics shows an idea that surprisingly never caught on: underwater music. You’re swimming at the pool and listening to music. But when you dive under the water, you can no longer hear the music. The problem is easily solved by installing a speaker inside the pool. Because sound travels five times as fast in water, “music from the submerged speaker is more true-toned than one mounted in the air.”
And the project is quite simple. All you need to do is purchase a “submergence-proof speaker.” The magazine recommended the University MM-2F (UW), a 25 watt speaker which sold for about $40.
Eighty years ago this month, the May 1939 issue of Radio Retailing carried this feature explaining how salesmen from Austin, Minnesota, based Hormel Foods did their jobs. To tell the story of “a new canned meat,” the salesmen brought along on their calls to grocers a portable phonograph and played a record of the canned meat’s story. They “stood speechless while the record did the selling, softened up the prospect with suitable musical interludes.”
This salesman was employing an Emerson radio-phono.
While the meat is not identified in the caption, it is plainly visible in the photo, which reveals that the phonographic sales pitch was for Spam, the venerable luncheon meat which had been introduced by the company in 1937.
With manufacture of civilian radios being suspended for the duration of the war in 1942, radio dealers had to seek other avenues to augment their income. Of course, servicing sets became especially important, but dealers also diversified, and that often meant selling records. Shown here, on the cover of the Radio Retailing for May 1944 is the colorful record display at Paramus Tire Exchange, 150 E. Ridgewood Ave., Ridgewood, N.J. The unusual name for a radio store (much less a kids’ record store) is explained by the fact that owner Cy Jacoby had diversified into the radio business in the 1920’s. The article noted that he was one of the many automotive men who took on radio way back when lots of music merchants were not interested.”
The address proved to be a good one from a merchandising point of view. With the inability to sell radios (or tires) during the war, Jacoby put together this display. In fact, since the shop was wired with intercoms, he even put a speaker behind the display and would speak to kids as the looked at the display of books and records.
The magazine warned of another kind of diversification that was illegal. Some dealers were buying broken radios and using the parts to rebuild new sets. In some cases, the rebuilding consisted of putting a refurbished chassis into a new cabinet. But the magazine reported that the War Production Board had taken the position that this was illegal.
There had apparently been no prosecutions, although the magazine did note that there had been several cases of action taken against dealers who had converted automobile sets to home use. Presumably, making the conversion at home (as described at this post and this post) were OK, but a dealer could not do the conversion and sell the set.
Today, we take a nostalgic look back a hundred years to the May 1919 issue of Talking Machine World, which was itself taking a nostalgic look back 23 years to 1896.
The magazine reproduced this poster advertising a “concert” at the Methodist Church in Chagrin Falls, Ohio. The benefit event (with admission of either 10 or 20 cents) featured Edison’s Most Wonderful Invention, namely the phonograph. The poster pointed out that the device would reproduce “the human voice, bands, whistling, etc., etc.” And this was not some puny device that could be heard only through an ear tube. The phonograph was one which could be heard by hundreds at the same time. The concert included a recording of the chimes “by the Bells in St. John’s Cathedral,” although it’s not clear which church of that name is being referenced.
The concert was to take place at 7:30 on February 14, 1896. The current United Methodist Church of Chagrin Falls traces its roots back to the 1830s, and reports that it built on its current site in 1884. So it appears that the concert took place at that church’s current location of 20 S. Franklin St.
At the beginning of the 20th century, phonographs rapidly became common. Even before most people owned one, they had an opportunity to listen. But in 1896, the instrument was still quite a novelty, and it’s likely that most Americans had never heard one. So it was probably well worth a dime or two to go listen to a concert featuring the greatest invention of the century.
Seventy five years ago this month, the April 1944 issue of Popular Mechanics showed how to make this portable phonograph, to easily bring recorded music to a friend’s house. Since the friend presumably already owned a radio, then it was a simple matter of plugging this set into the phono input of the friend’s radio.
And if there was no phono input, then you would screw in two 60 watt light bulbs (which served as the dropping resistor for the filaments) which would bring to life the two-tube oscillator contained in the phono. The music would be heard near the top of the radio dial.
This handsome home entertainment installation appeared on the cover of Radio Television News 70 years ago this month, January 1949. While it appears to be a single console, it’s actually a custom installation of discrete components, a television, radio, and record player.
The issue provided guidance for dealers looking to move into this field, and suggested that thoughtful design and installation of such custom designs could be a lucrative proposition.
A hundred years ago this month, the October 1918 issue of Talking Machine World showed this amusing yet patriotic accessory suitable for use on the phonograph when patriotic records were being played.
The figures of Uncle Same and the Kaiser were mounted on the tone arm, and when the music started, Uncle Sam would commence kicking the Kaiser, who was busy playing with his U-boat.
The magazine included the following quote, taken from the New York Sun:
UNCLE SAM KICKS KAISER TO MUSIC
Canned Chastisement Amusing to Sidewalk Crowds.
Uncle Sam, in front of a large and enthusiastic audience, spent most of yesterday kicking Kaiser Bill where such kicks belong. The kicking kept time with martial airs played on a phonograph. The little “Kaiser kicking toy” is for attaching to phonographs so that when songs which have as their theme the “canning” of the Kaiser are play.
Alas, the Armistice came the next month, so it’s difficult to know how many were ultimately sold for $1.50. But they were available from the National Company, “mechanical specialty manufacturers,” of 281 Congress Street, Boston.
