Streaming Music in the 1930s and the 1890s

 

paris sewer phoneJust in time for the weekend, or your weekend frame of mind, return with me now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. Through the magic of radio, teleport back to the 1940s, slip through a warp back to the 1930s, and then jump back to the 1890s. At each stop you will find yourself with a piece of the present: streaming music services. I slipped into this current carried by an old-time radio podcast into sleep, only to wake and play the detective series episode again, listening to confirm my subconscious impression.

The detective was Jeff Regan, “the Lyon’s Eye,” Jack Webb’s third detective series on his way to Dragnet. Jack Webb was in San Francisco, already making his way on air in local radio, with his sights on the big time. He tried out Pat Novak for Hire in 1946, then made the national scene in 1947 with Johnny Madero, Pier 23. Johnny Madero rented boats and did private investigations to make ends meet. In 1948, Jack Webb premiered Jeff Regan, Investigator, playing a detective who works for a detective agency boss, getting paid $10 per day and expenses.

In this context, I heard an episode in which Jeff Regan solves the crime by observing that people were talking into a microphone in a bar to order up songs. The microphones, to help the story, were often open past the short commercial interaction, and these conversations were occasionally captured on records, cut in the central office, where all the discs were being spun and piped, steamed on demand if you will to the jukebox were the nickel or dime had been dropped, an early music micro-payment system.

Was this for real? A brief search turned up the first level of truth confirmation, with a mini art deco telephone jukebox, circa 1935.

It starts off like most jukeboxes, with a coin, which the patrons inserted into the multiphone– but here’s where the phone in “multiphone” comes in. These little machines actually connected diners straight to a telephone operator whom they could speak with through the microphone and request a track. Between 1939 and 1959, these dedicated telephone operators were doubling as disk jockeys, ready and waiting at their turntables in the Central Music Studio in Seattle.

[ . . . ]

Multiphones had a record range of 170 whereas jukeboxes of the time only had a record range of 20-48. [ . . . ] However, telephonic music technology was not an entirely new concept…

Hop over the Atlantic to Paris forty years earlier and you would have encountered the coin-operated “Theatrophone”, set up in hotels, cafés, clubs and theatres across the city. Invented in 1881, the earliest telephonic distribution system could broadcast and transmit sounds to 48 listeners at a time through various telephone lines running through the sewer systems.

Could this be so? Yes, according to a Scientific American Supplement article, “The Theatrophone,” July 2, 1892.

 Our object at present is to present to our readers one of the most recent innovations founded upon the use of the telephone, viz., the theatrophone, the installation of which in Paris, scarcely two years old, has, in this short interval of time, taken a development which is very remarkable. Every one knows these little apparatus (Fig. 4) which are now to be found in the large hotels, cafes, restaurants, theater vestibules, etc., which proceed both from the telephone and the automatic distributer, and which, through the introduction of a 50 centime piece into a slot, permit of listening for five minutes to a morceau that is being played upon the stage of a theater and the title of which is given in a wicket in front of the apparatus. During the listening, if an intermission occurs, the name of the first theater is replaced by another, and the auditor is immediately put in communication with another stage. If an intermission occurs at a given moment in all the theaters, the apparatus will allow a piano or a song to be heard, so that in no case will the auditor run the risk of giving his money for nothing.

This result is obtained as follows: The central station of the Theatrophone Company (Fig. 1) is connected with secondary stations placed in the theaters. Each of these secondary stations is provided with batteries, bobbins, call apparatus, commutators, etc., and communicates with a series of microphones placed upon the stage on each side of the prompter’s box. The cables that connect these stations with the central station end at a distributing board to which are likewise fixed the cables that run to the theatrophone and a certain number that run to the central telephone office of the Opera Avenue. The role of these latter will shortly be explained.

The cables of the theatrophone are formed of three conductors; two of these twisted together serve for the transmission of the music, and the third actuates the alarm.

[ . . . ]

But, aside from the theatrophone service, the company has also a certain number of subscribers, that is to say private individuals, who, through the payment of a fixed amount, have the right to a certain number of listenings at home. It is to this service that is devoted the third group of cables that end at the distributing board already mentioned. These persons are necessarily subscribers also of the telephone. It follows that, in order to allow them to use the theatrophone, the operator of the Opera office will merely have to connect the subscriber’s line with the one coming from the central station of the theatrophone whose number is indicated by the operator of this latter station.

[ . . . ]

In 1895, Britain introduced the coin-operated “Electrophone” to its salons, hotels and restaurants across several cities. It was these early European telephone line systems combined with the popularity of the nickel-in-the-slot phonographs introduced in 1890, that paved the way for Shyver’s Multiphone…

So, we have an on-demand steaming service with multiple live venues, news, and apparently recorded or dedicated live music to fill the space between live events. The streaming company invested in running data cables through the large, well-developed sewer/stormwater system under Paris, and wired venues for stereo sound. The stereo effect, if I get this right, comes from plugging one earphone into each ear, linked to the left or right stage wire, linked to the set of stage left or right microphones. The fad was fanned by an Art Nouveau poster by Jules Cheret, with a smiling woman in a bright yellow dress listening on a theatrophone receiver set. A gentleman in top hat and tails with waxed mustache reinforces the high society status of this new technology.

Obviously, this was a luxury item for private homes, however, most of the public could afford to pay for a listen in a public theatrophone venue. Indeed, the demand by wealthy people at a distance would drive the development of a European network.

Inventor Clement Ader, today perhaps best known for his aviation work, had previously been responsible for establishing the first telephone system in Paris—making him the perfect person to launch livestreaming.

Parisians immediately took to the invention. The Belle Epoque pop artist Jules Cheret immortalized the theatrophone in a lithograph featuring a woman in a yellow dress, grinning as she presumably listened to an opera feed.

[ . . . ]

The theatrophone, and similar services, were adopted by high society across Europe. In 1884, the Portuguese King Dom Luis, a diehard opera fan, was unable to attend the performance of Laureana at the Teatro Nacional de Sao Carlos in Lisbon. But no fear: Dom Luis got his opera fill via theatrophone at his palace. He was such a fan that he backed having subscriptions for opera fans like himself (90 performances for 180,000 Portuguese reis). Pubs cashed in on the craze, charging people to listen to plays to kick off boozy afternoons, much the way bars show televised sporting matches today, and hotel lobbies and cafes in Paris also installed the service at coin-operating listening stations. Pretty soon, Britons caught on, with groups of high society ladies and gentlemen gathering in parlors to listen to the most sought-after performances. Queen Victoria had a subscription, as did about 600 other people during the turn of the last century.

Radio, and then television, eventually killed off the equipment-intensive streaming services. Now they have reemerged with consumers receiving their content over wire or wireless data systems, with the content either live or captured for on-demand streaming play and replay, or even download for offline listening and viewing. Whether you paid close attention or not, the wired data backbone is likely running through dedicated pipes, although there is talk again of mutual benefit between cable providers and sewer system operators. Back to the future, or past as present.

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  1. Dotorimuk Coolidge
    Dotorimuk
    @Dotorimuk

    Great, interesting post.

    • #1
  2. Jimmy Carter Member
    Jimmy Carter
    @JimmyCarter

    My memory of coin operated music is Wurlitzer jukeboxes.

    I had no idea it was done over the phone. 
    Come to think of it, They were paying for “hold” music.

    Great post.

    • #2
  3. Gary McVey Contributor
    Gary McVey
    @GaryMcVey

    A terrific piece of history, CAB! Damn, I’m jealous. What great writing!

    • #3
  4. EJHill Podcaster
    EJHill
    @EJHill

    The very thought of the range of frequency loss is enough to make me physically ill. Acoustically recorded songs played back over the narrow range of a telephone wire? 

    • #4
  5. Gary McVey Contributor
    Gary McVey
    @GaryMcVey

    And no amplification other than a Victrola-style horn. 

    • #5
  6. Dotorimuk Coolidge
    Dotorimuk
    @Dotorimuk

    EJHill (View Comment):

    The very thought of the range of frequency loss is enough to make me physically ill. Acoustically recorded songs played back over the narrow range of a telephone wire?

    I can’t believe people listen to music through their smartphone speakers either.

    • #6
  7. James Lileks Contributor
    James Lileks
    @jameslileks

    If memory serves, France also had a telephonic news-delivery system that preceded radio. Just as they had Mintel before the internet. 

    BTW, Johnny Madero was essentially Pat Novak, for a different network. Both established Webb as the hardest of the hard-boiled, with a steady line of repartee. Novak went over the top and embraced parody of the detective form; Regan took it down a few notches, lost the recurring secondary character who provided crucial information in the third act (a drunk named Jocko in Novak, and I think a priest in Madero) and shifted the character’s raw antagonism towards the police to his boss, Anthony J. Lyon. It made for some odd scenes: Regan was always mad at his boss for giving him jobs, and came off like a total jerk.

    Webb left Regan after a while, and it staggered on with a replacement. What’s interesting is how Webb’s outside persona turned into Joe Friday: he went from the margins of society, loose and almost nihilistic, to the ultimate cop. People went along because he projected personal integrity and a unique bristling intensity, and they could move that from his marginalized PIs to a square-john cop quite easily. It’s one of the great reinventions of old radio. 

    And to think he started out as comic relief.

    • #7
  8. James Lileks Contributor
    James Lileks
    @jameslileks

    GREAT post, by the way.

    • #8
  9. Kelly B Inactive
    Kelly B
    @KellyB

    Fascinating! Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme chose. 

    • #9
  10. Percival Thatcher
    Percival
    @Percival

    James Lileks (View Comment):

    If memory serves, France also had a telephonic news-delivery system that preceded radio. Just as they had Mintel before the internet.

    BTW, Johnny Madero was essentially Pat Novak, for a different network. Both established Webb as the hardest of the hard-boiled, with a steady line of repartee. Novak went over the top and embraced parody of the detective form; Regan took it down a few notches, lost the recurring secondary character who provided crucial information in the third act (a drunk named Jocko in Novak, and I think a priest in Madero) and shifted the character’s raw antagonism towards the police to his boss, Anthony J. Lyon. It made for some odd scenes: Regan was always mad at his boss for giving him jobs, and came off like a total jerk.

    Webb left Regan after a while, and it staggered on with a replacement. What’s interesting is how Webb’s outside persona turned into Joe Friday: he went from the margins of society, loose and almost nihilistic, to the ultimate cop. People went along because he projected personal integrity and a unique bristling intensity, and they could move that from his marginalized PIs to a square-john cop quite easily. It’s one of the great reinventions of old radio.

    And to think he started out as comic relief.

    I haven’t listened to any of the Madero programs, and thought that it’s description had been misapplied. Pat Novak for Hire is one of my favorites, particularly when the part of Novak’s nemesis Inspector Hellmann was played by Raymond Burr. At least once per episode, Hellmann is anticipating charging Novak with the murder of the corpse that Novak has just discovered, and Novak opens up with the insults. “Hellmann, you couldn’t find a tractor on the back porch.”

    • #10
  11. Rodin Member
    Rodin
    @Rodin

    This post is a gem. 

    • #11
  12. Clifford A. Brown Member
    Clifford A. Brown
    @CliffordBrown

    James Lileks (View Comment):

    If memory serves, France also had a telephonic news-delivery system that preceded radio. Just as they had Mintel before the internet.

    BTW, Johnny Madero was essentially Pat Novak, for a different network. Both established Webb as the hardest of the hard-boiled, with a steady line of repartee. Novak went over the top and embraced parody of the detective form; Regan took it down a few notches, lost the recurring secondary character who provided crucial information in the third act (a drunk named Jocko in Novak, and I think a priest in Madero) and shifted the character’s raw antagonism towards the police to his boss, Anthony J. Lyon. It made for some odd scenes: Regan was always mad at his boss for giving him jobs, and came off like a total jerk.

    Webb left Regan after a while, and it staggered on with a replacement. What’s interesting is how Webb’s outside persona turned into Joe Friday: he went from the margins of society, loose and almost nihilistic, to the ultimate cop. People went along because he projected personal integrity and a unique bristling intensity, and they could move that from his marginalized PIs to a square-john cop quite easily. It’s one of the great reinventions of old radio.

    And to think he started out as comic relief.

    Yes, I’ve enjoyed the entire sweep of Jack Webb’s characters, thanks to the ultra-marathoner of OTR podcasting, Adam Graham of The Great Detectives of Old Time Radio.

    Two years after Webb successfully launched Dragnet, he created and starred in a passion project, a 1951 summer replacement series that merged his love of jazz and blues music with detective fiction. Pete Kelly’s Blues had a jazz horn player, a band leader in a 1920s St Louis juke joint, who kept getting mixed up with trouble. Every episode featured jazz song performances. The six surviving stories are very noir. Jack Webb translated Pete Kelly’s Blues into a 1955 movie starring Lee Marvin, Jack Webb, and Janet Leigh.

    I see a bit of comparison between Jack Webb and Clint Eastwood here, with Eastwood’s passion for jazz translating into a critically acclaimed 1988 biopic, Birdabout the life and music of jazz saxophonist Charlie Bird.

    • #12
  13. Clifford A. Brown Member
    Clifford A. Brown
    @CliffordBrown

    James Lileks (View Comment):

    GREAT post, by the way.

    Thanks, high compliment from a master of the craft.

    • #13
  14. Clifford A. Brown Member
    Clifford A. Brown
    @CliffordBrown

    Gary McVey (View Comment):

    And no amplification other than a Victrola-style horn.

    Yes, I wonder about the specifications of the microphones used to capture sound in Theatrophone wired venues. Another quick check points to multiple inventors of different microphone technologies in the 1870s-1880s. Yet, it appears these were not used in the early recording industry. They were used in improving telephone transmission quality, so would play into this specialized branch of wired communication.

    • #14
  15. Clifford A. Brown Member
    Clifford A. Brown
    @CliffordBrown

    Gary McVey (View Comment):
    A terrific piece of history, CAB! Damn, I’m jealous. What great writing!

    Thanks, especially stepping into your area of expertise, I believe.

    • #15
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