The Tech in My Life #10: Portable music

As a kid growing up in the 1960s, portable music meant a transistor radio, tuned into one of the pirate radio stations broadcasting from unseaworthy vessels and abandoned structures in international waters off the UK coast. Hence my lifelong love of psychedelic music, as the pirate DJs had playlists beyond the commercial top 40 that was featured on the “Fab” Radio Luxembourg.

Later, the fledging BBC Radio 1 (and later still, the first UK commercial radio stations of the early 1970s) added to the wider choice of popular music, and the introduction of genre-specific programmes, sometimes with a regional focus or predominantly playing album tracks rather than singles.

Aside from the hippies on board Radio Caroline, my night-time listening in the 1970s comprised John Peel’s BBC Radio 1 programme, which kindled my interest in punk and beyond. (Peel once played a track by Greenfield Leisure on which I played guitar.)

Alongside transistor radios, portable cassette decks made it possible to compile your own mixtapes (and copy your mate’s records), but it wasn’t until the Sony Stowaway (later the Walkman) that cassettes became truly portable. Such was the interest in this new playback format that the British Electronic Foundation recorded a cassette-only album in its honour (“Music for Stowaways”), and Bow Wow Wow released a cassette-only album called “Your Cassette Pet”.  Having gone through several different portable cassette players, I ended up with the Sony WM-GX674 released in 1999, to mark the Walkman’s 20th anniversary.

The Sony Walkman unwittingly made it much easier for fans (and bootleggers) to record live concerts, and I still have a bunch of cassettes from London’s Camden Market of live shows I attended only days before. The growth in cassettes led the music industry to launch its ill-conceived “Home Taping is Killing Music” anti-piracy campaign – little did they know what lay ahead….

The next shift in music portability was the Compact Disc equivalent of the Walkman, the imaginatively named Sony Discman. While not 100% skip-proof, the Discman and its competitors did allow commuters, pedestrians and even joggers to enjoy music on the move (using personal earphones in public spaces, of course…).

A number of other recording formats appeared during the early 1990s, such as the Digital Compact Cassette, Digital Audio Tape and the MiniDisc, but despite their superior audio quality and portability, they failed to catch on with the general public, and have mostly disappeared.

Unlike CDs, which are enjoying something of a revival – especially as consumers like the permanence of owning a physical artefact, as opposed to paying rent to a streaming platform. Plus, streaming platforms can remove content at will, making it unavailable to customers. I recently bought a new CD player, the CP2 from KM5. Although not as compact as my old Discman, it is still highly portable, and includes a loud speaker (unlike the Discman), and can both receive and send audio via bluetooth; and unlike the old Discman, it doesn’t require batteries, being chargeable via USB-C.

The internet age brought with it a new audio format, the mp3 file. If the music industry was worried about cassette piracy, it was nothing compared to file-sharing enabled by tech such as BitTorrent, and peer-to-peer platforms that deployed it. But when the first portable mp3 players emerged in the late 1990s, their storage capacity was limited to barely an album’s worth of songs. Also, the mp3 and digital music in general brought with them a new format war, as tech companies and music labels tried to control how consumers access, store and playback their music. This threatened issues of incompatibility, with digital content being locked to specific devices, or to specific record labels, using their own digital rights management protocols.

Thankfully, the first iPod from Apple played most digital file formats, alongside Apple’s own proprietary m4a format, tied to their devices and Apple’s iTunes download store. And thanks to their increased storage capacity, shuffle function and connectivity to iTunes, iPods became hugely popular, especially when a lot of new music was not always released in physical formats. I have had several generations of iPods over the years, and I still own models from 2005 and 2008, which often accompany me on overseas trips. I also have an iPod Touch from 2012, just for good measure.

Now, with my iPhone, I don’t use it to store music, apart from a small amount of content linked to my iTunes account. I don’t subscribe to Apple Music or Spotify, either. Instead, I use my Bandcamp library, and occasionally Soundcloud, as well as streaming some podcasts and radio stations (subject to geo-blocking, of course…). I choose not to use music streaming services because: 1) I prefer to buy my music as direct from the artists as possible, or in formats where artists are earning a better share of royalties compared to streaming; 2) some streaming content is geo-blocked so I can’t access it in Australia 3) I like to be in control of what I am listening to, rather than being a passive consumer of whatever streaming platforms (and marketing budgets) think I should be listening to 4) I don’t trust the streaming algorithms.

One of the reasons I bought an iPhone was to use iOS apps to make my own music, thanks to the plethora of synthesisers and other production tools that were launched off the back of this new and portable operating system. But that’s another story…

Next week #11: Productivity Tools

The Tech in My Life #9: Borrowing Library Books

These days, borrowing books from a library is simply a matter of scanning your plastic reader’s card, and then scanning each item, and making sure the titles you borrow correspond to those listed on the terminal screen before you walk out.

Once upon a time, it was all done with cardboard tickets and date stamps: each borrower had a card pocket to hold tickets equivalent to the number of books you were allowed to borrow at any one time; and each book had a pocket to hold a unique title card, alongside a pasted-in sheet showing the date by when the book was to be returned.

To borrow a book, you took it to the counter where a librarian would take the card from the book and place it along with your borrower’s ticket into a filing system organised by return dates, and each book would be stamped with the corresponding date. The whole process was run in reverse when you took the book back.

In the early 1970s, when I used to borrow books from the Adelaide City library, there was an interim technology, that at the time seemed very futuristic. It still used paper borrower’s tickets, but from memory, instead of each book having a title card, the system used an encoded magnetic strip or microchip. The book was scanned, alongside an image of the borrower’s ticket, and out came a photostat strip of paper with the borrower’s number and the list of books being taken out. I don’t recall seeing this library technology in use any where else, and I may have got some of the details wrong – but in essence, it was an early form of the scanning system in use today.

Next week #10: Portable music

The Tech in My Life #8: Overhead Projectors

As with Roneo and Banda machines, school also introduced me to overhead projectors – the presentation tool that pre-dated PowerPoint and digital projectors.

Some teachers would diligently prepare the transparent sheets in advance, and hope that the ink wouldn’t rub off or smudge ahead of time. I seem to recall that some lessons involved pre-printed crib sheets, that teachers would annotate by hand in real time. Others simply made it up as they went along – hopefully, they remembered not to write directly on the projection bed with a permanent marker, but used the special pens whose ink could be easily wiped off afterwards.

This rudimentary technology survived into my time at university, and even into my early corporate life – before laptops became ubiquitous. Nowadays, even a Microsoft PowerPoint, Apple Keynote or Google Slide presentation can seem quaint, as audiences increasingly demand/expect more immersive content. But maybe a return to simpler formats would prove the adage that “less is more”?

Next week #9: Borrowing Library Books

The Tech in My Life #7: Stencil and Spirit Duplicators

Before Microsoft Word, Adobe Photoshop and print-on-demand services, “desktop publishing” meant stencil machines and spirit duplicators. Mostly known by their brand names such as Roneo (mimeograph or stencil duplicator) and Banda (ditto machine or spirit duplicator), these printing presses were small enough to be operated on an actual desktop. They were perfect for self-publishing small print runs of home-made magazines and newsletters.

At school, teachers used them to make handouts and quizzes. In years 11 and 12, my friends and I produced several issues of an alternative school magazine using a Gestetner stencil duplicator. Fiddly work, but highly satisfying when everything went right.

Most people will probably remember them for the heady smell of the chemicals they used. Thanks to health and safety concerns (as well as cheaper photocopying and better flatbed scanners), these machines are no longer anywhere to be seen.

The core technology lives on in the form of Risographs, a 1980’s invention that has seen renewed interest in recent years among zines and comics – mainly because the economics can work out better than photocopying, inkjet printing, laser printing or traditional offset printing, and because the process uses more organic soy-based inks.

Next week #8: Overhead Projectors