digitalphono.com - The Digitalphono Phile

The Digitalphono Phyle

by Roger Deitz

Sound Advances

I have always been a fan of the 1939 World's Fair. This is a purely historical interest - since my New York World's Fair attending days laid ahead, circa 1964, probably just about the point in time when the rosy future predicted by the 1939 gala had come to pass. The great New York City exposition in Flushing Meadows, presented under the auspices of his honor the mayor Fiorello La Guardia, was one of those landmark junctures when looking back and looking forward were joyfully amusing and confusing. Once at the fairgrounds, the general public (promoters, ad nauseam dubbed them "average Americans") got a charge out of peering at sleekly designed goodies yet to be mass marketed. Folks were eager for technology and invention to continue to change their daily lives. They wanted a peek at the way our ever-changing world might look in the distant future - which for the purposes of World's Fair prognostication meant 1960. This was understandable. Millions of visitors from cities and farms alike already had experienced a revolution in the improvement of their common stead...well, except for that pesky Great Depression thing and the advent of World War II that was about to cut into America's collective leisure time.

In the first year of the Fair, tens of millions of tourists waited for hours on endless lines in the shadow of the Fair's symbol, the sleekly futuristic Trylon and Perisphere. For those who need a short refresher course on The 1939 New York World's Fair - 101, the Trylon was a 700 foot tall spire and the Perisphere an orb the width of a city block that sat beside each other in stark whiteness. Together they guarded the entrance to tomorrow, looking like Laurel and Hardy meets the 21st Century, an envisioned collaboration between Pablo Picasso and Sigmund Freud. Of course, when the fair ended in 1940, the wrecking ball took care of any and all futuristic symbolism, metaphorically and literally.

The General Motors Futurama was the most popular exhibit, a sixteen-minute journey that "flew" attendees over the 1960's "World of Tomorrow." Riders gazed at 20 lane highways where 100 mile-per-hour automobiles sped commuters to homes chock-a-block with automatic appliances and time-saving innovations. People were hungry for innovations because most had experienced, in a short period of time, an incredible proliferation of newfangled gadgets that had made a measurable difference in their lives. Many of the voyeurs were born in gas lit homes visited by the iceman; had picked up their first sweetheart in a horse drawn carriage or Model T Ford, or been so wooed; and had listened to the earliest phonographs and crystal radio sets. Then came a wealth of electrical and mechanical gadgets - not just for the rich, but affordable by the average American. We would never be the same.

What would the world of tomorrow be like? I am particularly enamored of the Soda Fountain of the Future, and my runner-up favorite; the Electronic Kitchen that automatically cooked and served dinner, washed and stored dishes afterwards, changed the baby's diaper and entertained guests by mixing martinis and passing out lit cigars. Then there was much the World's Fair got right. NBC televised the opening ceremonies on April 30, 1939, an event viewed by about 1,000 people on a couple of hundred experimental video receivers set up around and about the New York Metropolitan area. That's not quite the sizable audience on hand for the final televised episode of M.A.S.H, but then, the demonstration broadcast did predate the actual Korean Conflict by a decade. FM receivers were unveiled at the '39 World's Fair. Once on sale, these sets improved on the static prone technology of 45 Million AM sets owned by nearly 27.5 million Americans. Add to the mix the millions of phonographs sold since before the turn of the century. It was clear that there was music in the air - everywhere.

That meant that most Fair patrons were established music consumers. The music industry that once consisted of ragtag traveling troubadours and minstrel shows had grown into a booming business long before the 1800s ended with the advent of sheet music. At a few pennies a page, one could bring the latest tune into one's house to be tapped out on the family piano. Then, thanks to Mr. Edison, anyone could purchase an amberol cylinder that played four minutes of music on the "incredible talking machine" that became an essential parlor entertainment in American homes. 78s, 45s, LPs, tapes, and CDs followed and people rushed to purchase recorded music of ever improving quality to enjoy in their homes, whenever they desired. But you knew that, you've lived that!

The problem was that only a few giant music labels controlled the distribution of sound recordings. And class, (this will be on next week's blue book exam), the music business always has been and always will be about distribution. Get the product to the public so they have an opportunity to purchase it. There long existed an exclusion and tyranny in the fact that only a few labels had the clout to command shelf space in the record stores and air play on major radio stations. Enter the digital phonograph, one innovation of the future not predicted by the 1939 World's Fair.

Imagine a more democratic record store with unlimited shelf space where an independent artist or small label may compete on a level playing field with a large business conglomerate. Create a place where consumers may sample music and read about an artist or be directed to a tour schedule. Make it a site where listeners may purchase state-of-the-art, high quality digital music, music not necessarily attached to a CD, so as to make for lower production costs, more profitability for the artist, and lower costs for the purchaser. Call this place the digital phonograph. Well time travelers, the future is now! Enjoy your visit to the digital phonograph. In weeks to come you'll be reading about the artists and music you are into, and treated to commentary about heaven knows what. Think of the digital phonograph as a glimpse into the future, a future not so far away from your computer and Internet connection. It's like a World's Fair of Music. All that's missing is the Trylon and Perisphere, not to mention long lines to the restrooms and the aggravation of trying to find a parking space at Flushing Meadows for your mother-in-law's new Packard.