Latest news with #Walkman
Daily Maverick
13-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Maverick
In the Walkman revolution we lost shared listening in an ever-narrowing world
I catch up to things late, always have done. I went, by way of example, from my transistor radio and those finickity cassettes that needed cumbersome cassette recorders to the smartphone with its ability to play music. I skipped over that breakthrough era of the Walkman and evaded the time of the Discman and the portable CD player. I even missed out on MP3 players. I still shake my head: what was I thinking? Why did I never acquaint myself with the latest technology and get myself a device that would have allowed me to hear music inside my head through those spindly, non-earpod but serviceable headphones? Probably the most important thing about the Walkman was that it revolutionised how we listened to music, changing the consumption of music – and all things auditory, such as audiobooks and podcasts. How? By giving us the chance to have a private listening experience, laying down the pathway for individual listening choice. It was a heady breakaway from the 'before' listening times, and took away the constant carping and complaining about whose turn it was. My teen years were hell, an endless negotiation around the inexplicable (to a truculent pre-adult) concept of sharing. I grew up in a family of six, all with particular musical tastes, all needing airtime. My mother liked classical music with religious themes: hymns, Gregorian chants, Handel's Easter music; the Ave Marias (the Bach and Schubert versions). 'Cross yourself music,' my brothers called it, mostly because my God-fearing mother often made the sign of the cross when she heard a particularly stirring liturgical piece. My father liked Elvis Presley, Nat King Cole, Buddy Holly, Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald… played loudly (which annoyed my mother) so he could hear it while he cooked. There was only one turntable built into a cabinet with an open rack that held the long-playing records, or vinyl as they were known, and a radio with a fabric or mesh-fronted speaker and a large knob for a tuning dial. This was in a pride-of-place position in the lounge. Remember, there was no television set, so it was where we sat to listen to whatever was being played – record or radio. Antonette, my six-years-younger baby sister, listened to David Frost narrating fairy tales, The Pied Piper of Hamelin, Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella. She'd happily sing along with the complaining Hamelin rats, resentful about being unloved, bitter about their treatment from humans. Anton came home from boarding school, superior in his new knowledge of the hip music scene, bringing with him the music of Jethro Tull, Shawn Phillips, Pink Floyd, King Crimson, Deep Purple, Black Sabbath… all the colours, my mother used to say. My musical choices included Elton John, Joni Mitchell, James Taylor, Phil Collins, Billy Joel, Rod Stewart, Queen, Fleetwood Mac, the Bee Gees… And, embarrassing to the Naidoos, a deep love of country music: Patsy Cline, Dolly Parton, John Denver. My brother Shaun, learning how to play the piano in those years, listened to everything – it is necessary, he'd say, to hear it all. Necessary, it seems, for the brilliant composer he would become before his untimely death at 49. Everyone had to have a turn. We had to listen to each other's choices – we had no choice. It was communal listening. My hero, John Denver, wrote a song about his grandma's feather bed that could 'hold eight kids and four hound dogs, And a piggy we stole from the shed' on which they 'didn't get much sleep but had a lot of fun'. It was a bit like that in the Naidoo family master bedroom. After dinner, when our teeth were brushed, our faces scrubbed and pyjamas donned, we – along with Timmy, the dog – climbed into my parents' bed to listen to the radio on my dad's bedside table. As the Lost Orchid from a print of Tretchikoff's famous weeping painting looked down on us, we feasted on programmes like Squad Cars, in which the police prowled the empty streets at night, waiting in fast cars and on foot…; The Creaking Door; Test the Team; Inspector Carr Investigates; No Place to Hide with Mark Saxon and Sergei Gromulko; The Mind of Tracy Dark. Family time, a sharing time. Happy squabbling time. And then came the Walkman and everything changed. We no longer had to share. We could plug in our music and listen to whatever we chose. It was always our turn. Over the past 50 years, individual choice has replaced things communal. On a visit to my family in Los Angeles I got sick enough to spend the day in bed. To make sure we still had family time, my sister-in-law, Ann, and nephew, Joe, piled onto my bed. Only each of us had our laptops, each our Airpods, each watched a television series (me), documentary (Ann) or music video (Joe) of our own choosing. In the end, nobody shared what they'd been watching or listening to, I think because we each had such specific personal taste that nobody thought our choice would interest the others. It struck me that because it's always our turn, the algorithm can track us and give us more and more of what it thinks we like or want to see or listen to. And so our world gets narrower and narrower, as do the chances of getting to know arcane religious tracts or becoming familiar with the songs of Bing Crosby or being able to sing along with the rats of Hamelin. You are left with a repertoire of only what you like. As I said, I come late to things and seem to catch on and catch up only when the trend is deeply entrenched. Embarrassingly, I have just discovered podcasts and am listening to a host of views and opinions with which I agree, to which I nod along. A case in point is The Rest Is Politics, hosted by former journalist-turned-strategist and spokesperson for Tony Blair and New Labour Alastair Campbell and British academic, broadcaster, writer and former diplomat and politician Rory Stewart. In a determined attempt to confuse the algorithm, I have resorted to forcing myself to listen to the extremely right-wing views of Donald Trump-supporting Joe Rogan, whose ravings are liberally interspersed with racist epithets. It's a grim business and I find myself vacillating between rage and despair at some of the things people (such as Kash Patel, Trump's director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation) say. But I genuinely believe that the only way to form opinions is to have the views of all sides. DM This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper, which is available countrywide for R35.
The Star
12-07-2025
- Entertainment
- The Star
The Hangout: Spin the black circle
Today I want to chat about vinyl. It has made a massive comeback over the past few years after falling out of fashion in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Back then, we were all buying cassettes and then CDs. I still remember walking into CNA to buy Guns N' Roses on tape, and recording Barney Simon's Night Zoo on my hi-fi instead of heading to bed, even though school was calling the next morning. I even had one of those very cool tape cases that neatly housed my cassettes and Walkman, so I could take it to friends' houses after school. How cool were we? I also remember hanging out at the old Randburg Waterfront, browsing CDs at the music store. Some of my very first CDs were Violent Femmes and Pixies, bought at the now long-gone Musica. Do you remember what your first buy was? I still have a big collection of CDs, and I have even seen bands selling cassettes at gigs again. But I digress. We are here to talk about vinyl. The first vinyl pressings date back to the 1930s and 1940s, which is almost a hundred years ago. That is pretty wild, and now they are back in full swing. I chatted to one of the vinyl gurus at Mr Vinyl, based at 44 Stanley in Milpark, and here is what Bret Dugmore had to say: 'The vinyl revival is an amazing story of how the human condition and our search for meaningful and mindful experiences brought back an old music format that modern society gave up on in the pursuit of ease and convenience. The experience and ritual of buying a vinyl record, putting it on a turntable, lowering the needle and carefully listening to it, while examining the artwork and lyric sheets, is by far the best way to experience music. All generations, with our youngest customers being nine or ten years old, have fallen in love with the art of collecting, caring for and listening to vinyl records. The vinyl revival was well underway overseas by 2010, but it only really took hold in South Africa around 2012. Mr Vinyl started as a hobby for me. I would buy a crate of records from a friend at a record label and sell them online. One crate turned into two, then four, and soon a large portion of my house was filled with vinyl. That gave me the push to find a retail space. We went from clicks to bricks and opened our doors at 44 Stanley in 2017. It has been our home ever since, and we have become a hub for music lovers across Johannesburg. We stock and sell all genres, and we feature the widest selection of new vinyl in South Africa.' And that's not a lie! Bret and his team really do have an outstanding store and a phenomenal selection of vinyl to choose from. I have also discovered a few fantastic vinyl fairs. There are plenty around, but here are two I think are worth checking out. The Soweto Record Fair is happening tomorrow at Native Rebels Restaurant, 1345 Kadebe Street, Central West Jabavu, Soweto. Entry is free, and you can flip through loads of records while great DJs spin vinyl and you enjoy a relaxed brunch vibe at this lovely restaurant. Then there is the Spin Music Fair, managed by Benjy Mudie of Vinyl Junkie. It brings together some of Gauteng's top vinyl dealers on the last Sunday of every month at Pirates Bowling Club in Greenside. The fair offers thousands of new and pre-loved records, from rock and pop to jazz, soul, soundtracks, hip hop and more. Crate digging is a massive part of the vinyl experience, whether you are on the hunt for a rare find or just admiring the beauty of old-school album artwork. The fair runs from 9am to 2pm and entrance is free. If you cannot make it to a fair, visit Benjy's beautiful store at 94 Conrad Drive, Blairgowrie, Randburg. It is a music lover's paradise, and Benjy's knowledge is second to none. Every visit feels like a little musical adventure, whether you are a lifelong collector or just getting started. I also often hear from people wanting to sell their vinyl collections. Both Bret from Mr Vinyl and Benjy from Vinyl Junkie can help with valuations and sales. You will be in good hands, as their passion for music and the format is matched by their honesty and care. Your beloved records will be going to good homes. If you have a collection gathering dust in your garage or storage, I urge you to go and get it. And for those who play theirs religiously, you need no coaxing — just dive in and feel the music.
IOL News
11-07-2025
- Entertainment
- IOL News
The Hangout: Spin the black circle
Today I want to chat about vinyl. It has made a massive comeback over the past few years after falling out of fashion in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Back then, we were all buying cassettes and then CDs. I still remember walking into CNA to buy Guns N' Roses on tape, and recording Barney Simon's Night Zoo on my hi-fi instead of heading to bed, even though school was calling the next morning. I even had one of those very cool tape cases that neatly housed my cassettes and Walkman, so I could take it to friends' houses after school. How cool were we? I also remember hanging out at the old Randburg Waterfront, browsing CDs at the music store. Some of my very first CDs were Violent Femmes and Pixies, bought at the now long-gone Musica. Do you remember what your first buy was? I still have a big collection of CDs, and I have even seen bands selling cassettes at gigs again. But I digress. We are here to talk about vinyl. The first vinyl pressings date back to the 1930s and 1940s, which is almost a hundred years ago. That is pretty wild, and now they are back in full swing. I chatted to one of the vinyl gurus at Mr Vinyl, based at 44 Stanley in Milpark, and here is what Bret Dugmore had to say: 'The vinyl revival is an amazing story of how the human condition and our search for meaningful and mindful experiences brought back an old music format that modern society gave up on in the pursuit of ease and convenience. The experience and ritual of buying a vinyl record, putting it on a turntable, lowering the needle and carefully listening to it, while examining the artwork and lyric sheets, is by far the best way to experience music. All generations, with our youngest customers being nine or ten years old, have fallen in love with the art of collecting, caring for and listening to vinyl records. The vinyl revival was well underway overseas by 2010, but it only really took hold in South Africa around 2012. Mr Vinyl started as a hobby for me. I would buy a crate of records from a friend at a record label and sell them online. One crate turned into two, then four, and soon a large portion of my house was filled with vinyl. That gave me the push to find a retail space. We went from clicks to bricks and opened our doors at 44 Stanley in 2017. It has been our home ever since, and we have become a hub for music lovers across Johannesburg. We stock and sell all genres, and we feature the widest selection of new vinyl in South Africa.' And that's not a lie! Bret and his team really do have an outstanding store and a phenomenal selection of vinyl to choose from. I have also discovered a few fantastic vinyl fairs. There are plenty around, but here are two I think are worth checking out. The Soweto Record Fair is happening tomorrow at Native Rebels Restaurant, 1345 Kadebe Street, Central West Jabavu, Soweto. Entry is free, and you can flip through loads of records while great DJs spin vinyl and you enjoy a relaxed brunch vibe at this lovely restaurant. Then there is the Spin Music Fair, managed by Benjy Mudie of Vinyl Junkie. It brings together some of Gauteng's top vinyl dealers on the last Sunday of every month at Pirates Bowling Club in Greenside. The fair offers thousands of new and pre-loved records, from rock and pop to jazz, soul, soundtracks, hip hop and more. Crate digging is a massive part of the vinyl experience, whether you are on the hunt for a rare find or just admiring the beauty of old-school album artwork. The fair runs from 9am to 2pm and entrance is free. If you cannot make it to a fair, visit Benjy's beautiful store at 94 Conrad Drive, Blairgowrie, Randburg. It is a music lover's paradise, and Benjy's knowledge is second to none. Every visit feels like a little musical adventure, whether you are a lifelong collector or just getting started. I also often hear from people wanting to sell their vinyl collections. Both Bret from Mr Vinyl and Benjy from Vinyl Junkie can help with valuations and sales. You will be in good hands, as their passion for music and the format is matched by their honesty and care. Your beloved records will be going to good homes. If you have a collection gathering dust in your garage or storage, I urge you to go and get it. And for those who play theirs religiously, you need no coaxing — just dive in and feel the music.
Indian Express
06-07-2025
- Lifestyle
- Indian Express
Nothing Headphone (1) review: Vintage flair and clear sound for a premium price
I wouldn't call myself an audiophile, but I have always been passionate about personal audio. That's why, whenever I need inspiration in life, I go back to the good old days of the Walkman and iPod to listen to music. Like all classics, they endure because of their timelessness, simplicity, clean design, and unique character. Headphone (1), Nothing's first-ever pair of over-ear headphones, designed in collaboration with British audio company KEF, give me the same feeling. These headphones look classic, discreet, and polished like a Swiss-made high-end watch, without completely forgoing modern elements. When I tried the Headphone (1) at the London launch last week, my first impressions were positive. But honestly, with a personal audio product, it takes time to appreciate the finer details, or to uncover the flaws and quirks that might surface with everyday use. These headphones have so many great elements that they easily overshadow the few shortcomings I found. I spent a week with the Nothing Headphone (1), and here is my review. What: Nothing Headphone (1) |Price: Rs 21,999 I put them on every day when I start my morning at 5:30 a.m. I wear them during my morning walk and use them occasionally while sitting at my desk. When I am travelling—which I do often—you will find my headphones on for the entire flight. I also use them frequently for calls. I prefer over-ear headphones to TWS earbuds. It's no surprise I enjoy working from cafés, my headphones travel with me just like my laptop and iPhone. They are my third most used device in a day. With headphones in general, I have observed that they tend to either become overly complicated or remain overly simple, often just to grab attention. However, the Headphone (1) steers clear of that trend, and that's a good thing in my opinion. Nothing isn't necessarily trying to start another trend with the Headphone (1). Rather, the company seems to exist in a bubble of its own, a good bubble, where it creates products that resonate with a certain kind of user. One of the things that initially attracted me to the Headphone (1) is the strong sense of value found in its vintage-inspired design. It appeals to those with a particular taste, something we don't often see in today's tech products. Instead of the typical round or oval shape that many premium headphones have, Nothing opted for a square design—let's call it a squircle, since the corners are rounded off. While not an exact match, one pair of headphones that comes close to the design of the Headphone (1) is the Bowers & Wilkins P5. Trends come and go in cycles, but when it comes to vintage-inspired designs, they never really go out of style in the first place. Nothing's choice to go with this particular design feels both nostalgic and modern at the same time. These are beautifully crafted headphones, produced with meticulous attention to detail and expertise. That much is clear, you don't need to be an expert to see it. Each ear cup features a rounded rectangular aluminum frame with a transparent, oval-shaped pod mounted on the outside—reminiscent of a cassette tape. It made me nostalgic, reminding me of when my father bought me my first Sony Walkman years ago. The headband is made of grey plastic with a black cushion in the middle and includes silent telescoping arms, which connect to the plastic pod on each ear cup via a black, S-shaped metal bracket. Meanwhile, the ear cushions are oil-resistant and offer comfortable memory foam that conforms to your head and passively seals out ambient sound. The headphones felt comfortable and sturdy, and I wore them for hours, even during my morning walks. At first, they may seem heavy at 329 grams (for comparison, the Apple AirPods Max weigh 385 grams), but I didn't feel uncomfortable. I found them well-balanced, and thanks to their shape and design, they are comfortable enough for long listening sessions. Perhaps what made the biggest difference for me, as a user, was how Nothing implemented physical controls on these over-ear headphones. It might not seem like a big deal to many, but once you start using the Headphone (1), you begin to realise how flawed the control schemes on most headphones really are. Nothing has ditched touch controls entirely on the Headphone (1) in favour of physical ones and they are cleverly executed. There's an actual on/off switch, a clickable roller button for adjusting volume and toggling through noise-canceling settings, and a paddle button that lets you skip tracks forward and back. Alongside there's a circular button on the outer shell of the right aluminum frame that activates your voice assistant. It can also be programmed as a shortcut to other features like Nothing's Channel Hop feature, which allows you to toggle between recent audio apps like Spotify and Apple Music. A power switch, status LED, USB Type-C port, and 3.5mm jack are located on the bottom edge of the right aluminum frame. Each ear cup also features slits for three microphones. There's no unnecessary branding on the Headphone (1); all you will find is the text 'sound by KEF' alongside a white mark under the left pod, and 'NOTHING headphone (1)' plus a red mark under the right plastic pod to help distinguish the left and right ear cups. I wouldn't say the Headphone (1) are the best-sounding headphones I have ever heard. And that's a tricky claim to make anyway, considering audio is such a personal, and therefore subjective, experience. They are not aimed at audiophiles, either. Or rather, I should say the Headphone (1) is designed to impress regular consumers like you and me, people who just want to put on their headphones and listen to music without any intrusion. The sound is pleasing to the ears: rich, well-balanced, with clear vocals, though it falls slightly short of delivering that expensive, pure audio quality. Still, it offers a consistent listening experience with no distortion, even at higher volumes. 'Take On Me' by A-ha is a joy to listen to, while 'Masakali' by Mohit Chauhan and 'Pasoori' by Shae Gill and Ali Sethi are a pleasure to the ears. A minor tweak to the EQ settings can further enhance the sound quality, especially the bass. In terms of tech, the Headphone (1) features 40mm drivers with a nickel-plated diaphragm, rim and dome. According to Nothing, this adds rigidity, which helps improve clarity in the highs and power in the bass. I paired the Headphone (1) with the Nothing Phone 3 (review coming soon) and iPhone 16 Pro using Bluetooth. The headphones support both AAC and LDAC audio codecs, though LDAC isn't supported on the iPhone. They also support wired listening, with a 3.5mm jack for analog input and a USB-C port for digital wired connections. The noise-cancelling is top-notch, and I was pleasantly surprised by it. To test it, I roamed around the streets of London and New Delhi, experiencing the busy interactions of these cities with the Headphone (1) on. They basically mute your environment. No matter where I am, once the ANC is activated, you are fully immersed in your music. The transparency mode is equally good. In this mode, the microphone actively funnels the environment's sounds into your ear, allowing for quick conversations to order coffee and croissants or to hear announcements on trains and airplanes. And when using the Headphone (1) for calls, you can hear yourself clearly—and be heard just as clearly by the person on the other end, thanks to its six microphones, four of which are dedicated to voice calls. This has made my life a lot simpler, as I don't have to carry a pair of TWS earbuds with me all the time. Battery life is pretty decent for over-ear noise-cancelling headphones. With noise-cancelling turned on, you get up to 35 hours of listening time at moderate volume levels, and up to 80 hours with it off. A five-minute charge gives you 2.4 hours of battery life with ANC on, which is fantastic. The Headphone (1) is a premium pair of headphones, and its features are equally high-end, though many of them have now become standard across over-ear models. Features like ear-detection sensors that pause your music when you take the headphones off and resume playback when you put them back on, a spatial audio mode with head-tracking, a low-latency mode for gaming, and multipoint Bluetooth pairing are all included. These headphones use Bluetooth 5.3. I was impressed by the Nothing X app (iOS and Android). The app is very clean and easy to use—companies like Bose and Sony could learn from it. I especially liked the equaliser, which offers two modes: a simple mode with options like 'Balanced,' 'More Bass,' 'More Treble,' and 'Custom,' as well as an advanced mode with an eight-band equaliser for fine-tuning the sound as per your liking. Nothing's debut Headphone (1) over-ear headphones are feature-rich, comfortable, and distinct in their design. They also sound great. However, they aren't made for everyone – they are aimed at people like me who are a bit obsessed with design and want a unique-looking product, though not necessarily something audiophile-grade. I wouldn't say the Headphone (1) is overly expensive, but they are priced on the higher side, like most premium headphones. That said, if you are on a tighter budget or looking for the best value for money, the Headphone (1) might not be the right choice.
Indian Express
05-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
Rewind, Replay: How the Walkman changed the way we hear music
In the late 1970s, music was a communal affair. Families gathered around bulky stereos, teenagers cranked up car radios, and break-dancers spun to boom boxes in city streets. Music was loud, shared, and rooted in place. Then came the Walkman. A 14-ounce device barely larger than a cassette tape, it let people carry their soundtracks anywhere. Suddenly, music became private — a portable bubble of sound that transformed daily life. As cyberpunk author William Gibson wrote in a 2019 article for The New Yorker, 'The Sony Walkman has done more to change human perception than any virtual reality gadget.' The Walkman's story began with Masaru Ibuka, Sony's co-founder and a devoted classical music fan. Tired of long, music-less trans-Pacific flights, he approached Sony's tape recorder division in February 1979, asking, 'Can you make a playback-only version of the Pressman?' The Pressman, originally designed as a compact recorder for journalists, was reimagined. Engineers removed the recording functions, microphones, and speakers, crafting a sleek, lightweight device – first made of aluminum, then plastic. They paired it with 45-gram headphones built for mobility, a leap from the era's heavy, stationary models. The Walkman's design was simple but revolutionary. Its high-quality audio playback minimised hiss and emphasised clear tones, delivering hi-fi sound through stereo headphones. Its low power consumption allowed 3.5 hours of use, or up to 8 with a heavy-duty battery, making it practical for daily use. Ironically, the Walkman wasn't built on groundbreaking technology. As Eric Alder observed in a 1999 article in the Edmonton Journal, 'Portable transistor radios with little earpieces had been around for decades. And home stereophiles wishing to listen to their favourite tapes or albums in solitude always had their headphones.' Even Sony's engineers were initially unimpressed. Cassette players and headphones weren't new, and the Walkman couldn't record. 'Everyone knows what headphones sound like today,' Sony designer Yasuo Kuroki wrote in a 1990 memoir, 'but at the time, you couldn't even imagine it.' What made the Walkman brilliant was its ability to seamlessly combine existing technologies into something entirely new, and something individualised and portable. As author Rebecca Tuhus-Dubrow wrote in Personal Stereo in 2017, 'It gave people the power to enhance their experiences while tuning out their surroundings.' The possibility of having a personal soundscape that one could walk around with did not exist in the 1970s. With no clear market, Sony had to create one. Their marketing was a stroke of genius. In Tokyo, young demonstrators roamed streets, parks, and subways, sharing Walkman earbuds with curious onlookers. Ads showed people running, skateboarding, or studying, each immersed in their private soundtrack. The $200 device at the time wasn't sold as tech but as a lifestyle. It sold out its initial 30,000-unit run in Japan, and in New York, Bloomingdale's had a two-month waiting list. 'It was the first mass mobile device,' Tuhus-Dubrow notes, and 'it changed how people inhabited public space in a pretty profound way.' It let users play what they wanted, wherever they were, without commercials. For many, it felt like freedom. 'It was so liberating, it was like a whole new world,' 67-year-old Matt Richards, a software engineer in Los Angeles, told 'Kids today are used to the iPhone, smartwatch, iPad, but this thing came out before any of us even had a computer!' Richards remembers pleading with his parents for one. 'At first it was expensive,' he says, 'but eventually everyone had one.' With the Walkman, everyone could listen to what they wanted, he says. His favourite? 'Led Zeppelin, without a doubt.' The Walkman quickly became more than just a player — it became a symbol of style and status. Dentists used it to calm patients. American visual artist and film director Andy Warhol tuned out the din of Manhattan, commenting, 'It's nice to hear Pavarotti instead of car horns.' Paul Simon, half of the legendary duo Simon and Garfunkel, wore his Walkman at the 1981 Grammys. Strapped to jeans or clipped to a belt, the Walkman signalled wealth and tech-savviness, much like the iPhone today. It quickly became a fixture of everyday life. 'We just got back from Paris and everybody's wearing them,' Warhol enthusiastically told the Washington Post in 1981. Mike Ma, a California-based sound engineer who grew up in an Asian-American family, recalled his teenage years filled with saggy jeans and a Walkman. 'My friends and I, we'd all be showing up with our jeans down to our butts, and with the Walkman on them, they'd slip down to our ankles,' he told For many, it was also an extension of privacy. According to Ma, 'My friends were allowed to do whatever they wanted, but my parents were like nah, you have to study, you have to meet family. The only me-time I got was when I was lying on my bed listening to my Walkman.' As Michael Marsden, co-editor of The Journal of Popular Film and Television told Reason Magazine in 1999, put it, the Walkman embodied 'personal space that you've created, in a world in which we don't have a lot of personal space. It's a totally private world.' Yet, this privacy stirred debate. Michael Bull, Professor of Sound Studies at the University of Essex, in the book Sounding Out the City (2000), called personal stereos 'visual 'do not disturb' signs.' Vince Jackson, in Touch magazine, wrote, 'The experience of listening to your Walkman is intensely insular. It signals a desire to cut yourself off from the world at the touch of a button.' Researcher Shing-ling Chen's 1998 study for Qualitative Magazine dubbed the Walkman 'electronic narcissism,' suggesting that its users grew self-absorbed. Even Sony's Akio Morita, concerned about antisocial behaviour, added a second headphone jack for shared listening. Yet, a social culture flourished with people sharing earbuds and making mixtapes. 'I gave my first girlfriend a mixed cassette for Valentine's Day,' Patel says. However, the Walkman had other flaws. British music journalist Norman Lebrecht argued it dulled musical taste, favouring 'crump-crump rhythm' over melody, possibly hurting classical concert attendance. Safety issues emerged, too. States like California and New Jersey banned headphone use while driving, cycling, or crossing streets after a 1981 New York Times article reported over 70 pedestrian accidents linked to Walkmans. Yet, the Walkman reshaped the tech landscape. As Tuhus-Dubrow writes, 'The Walkman – arguably the first mass personal device – introduced possibilities that we now take for granted, but that were largely unprecedented at the time.' Steve Jobs was notably inspired by the Walkman, dissecting the one gifted to him to inspect its parts. 'Steve's point of reference was Sony at the time,' Apple engineer John Sculley recalled in Steve Jobs' Life by Design (2014). 'He didn't want to be IBM. He didn't want to be Microsoft. He wanted to be Sony.' Apple's iPod, launched in 2001 with iTunes and .mp3 support, eventually overtook Sony, which resisted .mp3s to protect its entertainment interests. In a 2006 BBC interview, Sony's CEO, Sir Howard Stringer, said, 'Steve Jobs was smarter than we are at software.' By 2009, Apple sold 210 million iPods in eight years, surpassing half of Sony's 30-year Walkman sales. None of that takes away from its cultural impact. As Andreas Pavel, who patented a similar device before Sony, said in 1998 about the Walkman, 'Life became a film. It emotionalised your life. It actually put magic into your life.' From Ibuka's desire to hear classical music in flight, the Walkman redefined how we live with sound. It paved the way for AirPods, Spotify, and the personal tech ecosystem. Once, hearing Led Zeppelin through lightweight headphones clipped to your belt felt like the future. For a time, it was.
