Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 1, No. 4 (1927-01)

The Phonograph Monthly Review 159 One of the strangest things in the wave of phonograph enthusiasm which this magazine has helped to bring to the surface and make plainly visible (and incidently, articulate) is the sup- pressed resentment which has evidently been smouldering for a long time in the hearts of many record buyers. In the past they have been isolated, scattered, never realizing that there might be many more persons of similar tastes in their own community. The Phonograph Societies and the publication have shown them a little indication of their own strength and now they are not slow to give voice to the feelings which they have been keeping to themselves for many years. Mr. Schwartz undoubtedly speaks the minds of many enthusiasts as well as his own. Open Forum, Phonograph Monthly Review: I observe with considerable sardonic amuse- ment V. F. and Edward C. Harrolds daring to lift up a feeble protest against the tyranny which the stupidity of Phonograph Dealers have laid on Americans interested in recorded music. I say stupidity of the dealers, because I cannot give them credit for directing their actions con- sciously. They simply know no better. That they have been able to “get away” with it so long is not a particularly high tribute to the independ- ence and self-respect of record buyers. Even looking at the matter from a purely commercial standpoint, is there any other commodity sold by dealers who know as little about what they are selling as the phonograph dealers know about records? The man that runs a hot-dog stand knows something about the frankfurters he sells, but a record salesman knows nothing about his records! Mr. Harrolds’ unpleasant experiences with the dealers were mine for many years. Now I have sense enough to keep away from them altogether, and buy by mail on the strength of the manu- facturer’s announcements and my own knowledge of the artists and compositions. Buying records unheard in this way, I often make mistakes, but at least I have the satisfaction of preventing the local dealers from getting any commission. Now, with the help of reviews, etc., I am able to do fairly well. I absolutely refuse to have anything to do with dealers who cannot serve me intelli- gently. The members of that gentry have called me “crank” often enough in the past for me to under- stand that they can never realize any other point of view outside their own musical ignorance. Of course, I am fussy, because I know what I want and what I don’t want and I am persistently given the latter for the former. I am no more excessive in my demands from record salespeople than I am from those in bookstores, music publishers, or art shops. I know dozens of each of the three latter where I can not only get what I want, and not get what I don’t want, but actually learn about something new which I will like or need. I make no pretensions of knowing all about records, books, pictures, etc. and I expect to learn something when I visit the places where they are sold. But I firmly refuse to “learn” from a salesperson who knows nothing about subjects in which I am at least reasonably grounded. Phonograph salesrooms are the only place that this is attempted and consequently I no longer patronize them. On the last occasion I did so, the head record girl, who had been in the business for at least ten years, told me with asperity, “You seem to expect me to know everything about records and orches- tras and foreign companies and goodness knows what else!” “Most certainly,” I told her, “I do expect you to know almost everything about records and artists and companies. It is your business! I devote a very small part of my time to the phono- graph and you devote a very large part of your time; why shouldn’t I expect you to know far more than I do. Yet you are the person who asked me if it wasn’t Paul Whiteman’s orchestra that played Sibelius’ Valse Triste, and when I asked what Mengelberg’s Coriolanus Overture was like, replied, ‘Oh, it’s just the same thing as that other overture Mengelberg did a little While ago.’ The other overture, ‘just the same,’ was Weber’s Oberon! You deal in recorded music; it is apparently your life work. And yet when I demand that you know about records and music, —in other words, know your business,—you con- sider me unreasonable!” Until the time when all these people who do not know their own business and take a positive pride in not knowing it are set to work digging ditches and scrubbing floors, recorded music can never make any great advance in this country. The two classes of people to whom the greatest efforts should be made to sell good records are musicians, either professional or amateur, and the untrained, music-hungry persons who are eager to learn. Both classes are repelled by the present dealers. These dealers are thus the greatest drawback to the progress of the phono- graph instead of the pacemakers and trail breakers. One reason radio made such great strides for a time was that everybody interested in it, in- cluding the dealers, was truly enthusiastic and well grounded. Every moment was spent making parts, devising new wiring, etc. But I have never seen a record dealer devoting an instant to studying his instruments or his good records. The advice on how to sell the new machines is learned by memory and repeated in parrot-like fashion. No attempt is made to prove the state- ments made. In spite of the not unconsiderable amount of spare time, the dealer never gives an instant to the study of music, of foreign cata- logues or even of his own, or of the serious music which he carries or should carry in stock. How can he do business? A friend of mine in Milwaukee recently wrote me that he had seen a record salesgirl at a symphony concert. I replied that either he was