Phonograph Monthly Review, Vol. 1, No. 9 (1927-06)

The Phonograph Monthly Review 377 =ISV But about those “possibilities”; there is some- thing for discussion.) First of all, let us be realists, since this is a realistic age, and call things by their names. And radio is such a decep- tive word. (Let me pause to say that I occasion- ally use and rather enjoy a radio, and have no prejudice whatever against it) A radio set is a wireless telephone receiver; simply that, and noth- ing more. Once its fatal limitations are recog- nized—but how many radio enthusiasts admit or even recognize them?—it becomes an interesting scientific achievement, with considerable possi- bilities of entertainment and amusement. (It is, of course, also useful in the dissemination of news and in other matters of communal interest.) By its fatal limitations, I mean: (1) The fact that every radio listener must take “pot luck,” i. e., he never can hear anything but what hap- pens to be “on the air” at the time he “tunes in”; (2) The music that comes over the radio has no permanence, and if any given music happens to please the hearer, there is no way of making it permanently available or even of securing its repetition; (3) The amount of music broadcasted which is of interest to people of any musical in- telligence is very limited. It is true that a con- siderable number of eminent artists have been “on the air,” but the numbers chosen for their radio performances have of necessity had to be selections which appeal to the vast majority of radio listeners, and hence have little interest for persons of musical experience. This condition will continue to obtain. Just the opposite is the case with the phonograph, for which a large and vastly-to-be-increased library of the world's best music is available, and he who listens may always choose his music. The radio is not a musical instrument. No one calls the everyday telephone a musical instrument —why call the wireless telephone one ? It is true that music has been and will be transmitted by the wireless telephone, but that does not make the radio a musical instrument; it merely proves it a reasonably satisfactory telephone. The phonograph, on the other hand, in conjunction with its records, is capable of re-creating music at the will of its owner; its purpose and its re- sults are those of a musical instrument. Indeed, it is “the most versatile and accomplished of mus- ical instruments.” (Concluded in the next issue) In addition to the conclusion of Mr. Brainerd's article, two other noteworthy contributions have had to be postponed to the July Issue: The Growth of the Talking Machine Idea By K. E. Britzius By Geoffrey Nicholson WATCH FOR THEM NEXT MONTH/ British Chatter By H. T. BARNETT, M. I. E. E. London, May 1, 1927. Paper Horns T HERE is no doubt in my mind that a gramo- phone horn or amplifier ought to be both free and flexible. There can be served no good purpose whatever in having it mounted with a fine front edge if it be not flexible, if the ma- terial of the horn is not to be thrown into un- dulations it is quite obvious that it cannot matter in the least by how much of its surface the horn is secured to the machine casing. The particu- larly good scale balance obtained with my “Peri- dulce,” notwithstanding that it has a nice open acoustic system only three feet long, is due in part to the fact that the internal horn is made of only seven layers of brown paper subsequently thoroughly soaked in shellac varnish and dried. Such a horn is very flexible and when develop- ing deep bass tone the vibrations can be felt with the fingers and their character appreciated by anyone. When I was guard on the magazine at Didcot a brother officer from the O.D. brought in a stone deaf friend from the country one day be- cause he thought this stone deaf man would be able to enjoy the music of my gramophone, the only way this man could detect any sound being by its action in producing vibrations that he could feel with his fingers. Directly he saw the machine he felt the pliability of the horn and nodded to his friend to signify “good.” While he was still holding the edge of the horn I put on record after record and each of them won an ap- proving nod signifying “good.” At last I came to the cornet and grand piano record Mattinata, (Zono) ; he gave several approving nods while it was being played and when the playing was over he jumped up and turning to his friend wrote on a slip of paper “Particularly beautiful tone.” This was in fact true and even today this record remains the most beautiful example of cornet and piano recording yet produced, while it would not have surprised me greatly to find that the super- sensitive sense of touch of a stone deaf man were able to get some idea of a tune from the vibra- tion of a gramophone horn, yet I was enormously taken aback to find that he could know just as much about the music as myself, even to refine- ments represented by depth and beauty of tone and the incident impressed on me most vividly the importance of making gramophone horns of material that could not in any way by its own false vibrations impress any unpleasant quality upon the music rendered. Just as true as that, it is no use mounting a horn freely unless it be made of material free to vibrate, is the fact that when we have got a flex- ible horn freely mounted in a cabinet then we must have free egress for the tone liberated from the outside surface of the horn material to get