Once upon a time it was unheard of to hold a rummage sale if you didn’t have a record turntable for sale; I believe some families had to go down to a thrift shop and obtain one just to sell it, just to get the tag-sale credibility. For that reason, for many years I would only buy a turntable in absolute prime condition — and it was usually dirt cheap. As time went on, much like the ubiquitous Apple ][e, those sellers who had one to part with had already sold it. Supplies of old turntables dwindled to the point where in the past two years we started to buy any turntable we saw, just out of fear that eventually they’d be no more. This tactic, however, means we bought a bunch of junk over the years…which ended up being used for spare parts (which I may write more about in the near future), but we’ve gotten pretty good at only buying valid record players these days.

First, let’s look at a couple ‘eras’ of turntables:

1. Pre-1960s: This was the time of 10″ 78rpm records, and a lot of custom turntable construction. These are often very stylish by modern standards, designed to be a piece of decorative furniture rather than an audio accessory. Collectors of old electronics are happy to put the time and effort into restoring these vacuum-tube-driven machines, but a vinyl collector should stay away. Even if an old turntable has a 33-1/3 rotation speed, a 78rpm needle is going to tear up your albums; these are for the collector who knows what they’re looking for.
2. 1960s-1970s: The advent of microgroove vinyl and new cheaper mechanics brought out machines with more interchangeable parts and broader speed capabilities. The “drop-in” turntable is the most common to be found — an audio manufacturer would produce the electronics (amplifier, radio, etc.) but the actual turntable would be manufactured separately by a company like BSR and ‘dropped in’ to their stereo system. These tended to be cheaper quality than the high-end audio, but were often built with durability in mind. Don’t be surprised to see turntables with speeds from 16rpm up to 78 rpm; many had a ‘flip needle’ that accommodated both the smaller microgroove needle and the larger 78rpm needle.
3. 1980s and up: Before CDs took complete hold, cheap stereos included a record player for completeness sake…but most were of such poor quality and relied on so much plastic that they were of little use to an audiophile. On the other end, high quality turntables with variable speed control and strobe rpm indicators were available even in mid-range equipment. This period, however, dropped all speeds but 45 and 33-1/3 rpm. Modern vinyl collectors without need for 78s are going to be much more satisfied with a 1980s Pioneer turntable than a BSR drop-in from the 1970s.

As you can see, collectors of 78rpm records should stick to eras #1 and #2, while modern vinyl should stick to #2 and #3…but switch hitters are stuck with #2 to get a useful turntable. Collectors of 78s wishing to actually play back their lacquer disks should probably look for a turntable from the 1960s, though; the older turntables were often quite hard on the records played back on them due to primitive needle materials, but about the time that vinyl records began to dominate the market turntable manufacturers had improved on the earlier machines significantly. The flip needle is a must for collectors of both 78s and 33rpm albums: it was possible at the time (and quite often with modern ‘78rpm’ turntables) that the needle had to be physically replaced depending on the groove width. The flip needle ingeniously had two needles mounted opposite each other, and the cartridge was designed to allow the needle to switch sides via a little lever. Even if your turntable doesn’t have a flip-needle, the entire cartridge can be replaced for relatively low cost.

Replacing the cartridge may be a good idea no matter which turntable is purchased, even newer ones. A rummage-sale turntable needle may have been use well beyond its intended age, and could potentially damage your albums. A visual inspection can help identify severely damaged needles, but such an inspection cannot always be trusted. When picking out a rummage sale turntable, examine the tonearm head to see if the cartridge looks replacable: if the needle and cartridge is molded into the tone arm, or if there are soldered-on wires, skip the turntable; it may be harder to find a needle that fits than to get a new cartridge. Because the cartridge does all of the work of changing the vinyl’s groove into sound, being able to replace or improve it can be the difference between a junky record player and a high-quality turntable. I’ve also found that even similar-looking needles are not interchangeable — but if you buy the cartridge with a needle, not only are you certain you’ve got the right needle, but you’re certain what cartridge you’re using for ordering replacement needles in the future. While the cartridges are more resilient than the needle, at the age of most used turntables I’ve found more damaged cartridges than I ever expected to encounter. If you’re going to replace the cartridge, you can expect to spend from $10 to $30 for the low-end, but as with most audiophile equipment if you’ve got deep pockets you can always find something better.

After checking out the needle, the next important part is the turntable motor. Best bet is to ask the garage sale proprietor if you can plug it in. You don’t need a record album, you don’t need speakers — you just want to turn it on, see if it spins up smoothly and quickly, and if it switches speed when selected. Unless you know your turntables well, it may be difficult to tell if a turntable is direct-driven or belt-driven. A belt-driven turntable may just need a new belt if it doesn’t turn, but a direct-drive platter that doesn’t turn can be a more serious repair. I have bought slow-turning turntables that just needed a cleaning and greasing to bring back to speed, which might not be too bad if you’re comfortable disassembling a turntable, so it is always best to spend your money on one that requires the least amount of work. Aside from replacing a belt, the turntable mechanism is the most important aspect of buying a second-hand turntable, because replacing it basically means buying a new turntable. A good turntable platter and motor can be improved with a new cartridge and needle with little effort or cost, but no cartridge can improve a bad motor or damaged platter. If there’s any hint that the turntable motor, speed control, or other mechanical mechanisms aren’t working, the turntable should probably be left where it is.

One more consideration is the player’s accouterments. A turntable can come in two main forms: as part of a self-contained stereo system, or as a component. A component system is the simplest machine — in fact, they rarely contain any electronics at all. With these, however, you will need an appropriate amplifier that can handle a turntable’s signal. Modern amplifiers quite often lack a turntable input, so a separate preamplifier may be required. Record players that are part of a stereo system can be handy if you want simplicity, but the additional electronics can make it more trouble than it is worth if something like the volume knob has a noisy connection or there’s a short in the radio switch. The all-in-one stereo systems are more likely to end up in my parts pile than the component turntables do. If you are going to buy a console system, avoid ones without a recording output — a “tape out” connector on the back of a console stereo can still be connected to another stereo system, or to your computer for recording.

Because the basic structure of a turntable hasn’t changed much in the past fifty years, a nice, working turntable from the 1960s can rival the quality of a modern one, as long as care is taken to make sure to buy a sturdy, working, repairable turntable.

As a family, we’re always on the lookout for used record players. Over the past five years, they’ve become rarer and rarer to find at thriftshops, rummage sales, and auctions. Especially the ones we prefer: the ones that also play 16rpm and 78rpm disks, or lack auto-arm-return action. I’m also slowly amassing parts to build my own homebrew record turntable for 16″ transcription records — but that’s another story. I’ve got a bunch of stereo-component turntables, but we also don’t pass up some slick portables. You know ‘em, and for people older than 25 it was probably the first kind of record player they owned. These simple little machines unfolded from a briefcase form-factor, uncovering a turntable, small amplifier, and basic controls. Most even required AC — not enough battery power to keep that platter spinning. What follows are some of the turntables that have came into our possession in the past year.

Today we went to an auction. It had all the promise of some dirt-cheap junk: there was no advertisement in the paper, it was going at the same time as a high-end antiques auction across town, and it was a farm household auction of an elderly couple that moved into town (i.e. everything they thought was crap, too). We can’t pass up the prospect of packing our van with dollar-lot boxes, so we went — and got the added bonus of an auctioneer I’d never watched before, who had horrible jokes and was getting tired of all the low bids so he started picking on people in the audience that he knew. Well worth the $10 we spent. In that ten dollars, we spent two dollars on the next two portable record players:

This is a ‘harvest gold’ General Electric Wildcat. The Wildcat was released for several years in the late 60s and early 70s, I believe, and people still have soft spots for them today (if they’re not pimping them out instead). We did a good job with this one — it works beautifully. I plugged it in, dropped the needle, and Wifey and I two-stepped to a couple minutes of Tommy Dorsey before I moved on to the second player we bought:

A gray GE Wildcat. This one, however, did not get through life in as good of health as its younger harvest-gold relative. It seemed to have been stepped on — the auto-drop arm was bent down until it touched the platter. “I’ll just bend it back,” I figured, and using my mighty strength it went “pingt” (yes, exactly that noise), and now I held part of the record player in my left hand, no longer attached to where it would do any good. It doesn’t impede actually playing records, just the changer, but playing records isn’t any good, either. The knob controls are all very dirty and the right channel doesn’t work quite right. Oh, well — to the spare parts shelf it goes!

This next portable is a bit of a cheat — it actually returned to my possession this year, although it never left the house. Our kids have had the record-album bug for quite a while, and until my daughter upgraded to an all-in-one bookshelf turntable this summer, this was her main-use record player:

This is a vintage early-1980s Fisher-Price turntable, bought when I was a kid. The record player lived in my parents’ basement until they bought a new needle for it and gave it to my daughter a few years ago. It still works great, despite being beat upon by myself and my siblings (that red on the player is fingernail polish ‘racing stripes’ added by my sister), although the player has always had a notorious hiss. Made by Fisher-Price, it’s built like a tank, which makes it a good portable ‘tester’ for playing records in the kitchen or basement, without having to mess with the nice stereo in the living room.

This past summer, we stopped at a rummage sale — you know the one, where the actual owner is off running errands and the person left in charge has no idea what anything is priced. Sometimes, it’s a pain and nothing is negotiable for fear of making their friend angry by underselling their stuff, but sometimes good deals come because the person in charge was instructed to just sell everything. We got this lovely player and a stack of 45s for a song:

This cute bugger is an Imperial “Party-Time” portable record player. The suitcase it lives in is made of cardboard and paper — I don’t know how these ever survived more than a few weeks. This one not only survived, but still works. It proudly advertises its ’solid-state’ technology, meaning there’s no need to wait for tubes to warm up. Looking at a machine like this, it reminds just how simple it is to play a record: a motor with properly-reduced pulleys, a couple transistors, a speaker, and a needle, and it can play a hundred years of recordings. The Party-Time has no automatic needle-drop, no auto-changer, and only two speeds, but has all the same features as the Fisher-Price player that’s twenty years younger.

At another sale this summer, an estate sale this time, we met the cadillac of portable record players:

This is a late-model Wilcox-Gay Recordio Portable. If you remember, the Wifey got a console Recordio for her birthday this summer — and two months later, we were drooling over the machine above at a sale. We almost did a profoundly stupid thing..the player was marked $20, but the next day of the sale was going to be 1/2-price-day. We debated coming back the next morning, in hopes that the machine would still be there — but, luckily, we regained our senses and determined that a clean, working Recordio with blank paper records wasn’t going to fall into our laps at even $20 ever again, so we bought it right then and there. Sadly, we haven’t taken the time to play with it yet; someday, soon, we’ll be able to record outselves on little enameled pieces of paper, and play them back in all their wow-y and rumbly splendor.

Saturday once again found Derek and I prowling through rummage sales, thrift stores and more. This time we were on a mission. One of our record players decided to die and we need to replace it — it’s the one that played 78’s. I know, I know; I can hear you all wailing, “Oh no, you can’t play your 78’s?!” So we had to remedy that.

No luck at the first five sales. At number six, we got real excited because we saw two record players. Derek, normally nonchalant, broke his cool and ran to them. Only one had a setting for 78’s — but upon plugging it in, the “yeah, sure it works” record player didn’t. Hopes raised; hopes crashed. Bummer.

Don’t get me wrong, we were having fun and bought a few things, including more 78’s. This only reminded us that we needed to find that turntable.

We kept on with the search.

A few more sales later and we decided to try the thrift stores too. No luck at any of them — and I mean not a single record player (not even the Playskool close ‘n play types). Desperate, we went to the pawn shops. No luck there either.

Heading back towards home, we try one last thrift shop. (It’s never easy to just give up — even if only for the day.) There we see the two consoles we had said “no thanks” to on Friday (for I’m just telling you about one day in our quest). But we see no other record players at all.

The quest over for now, Derek and I split up to look at what else is available.

There’s a special, 50% off wall mirrors, pictures and frames, so I walk the store’s outer edge looking at what’s on the walls. Every now and then I have to skirt a table of stuff and I take my eyes off the wall for a few seconds. About half-way around the store, I notice I am skirting around a lovely looking wooden piece of furniture. A short dresser maybe?

I pull open the left ‘drawer’ and low and behold, there’s an old radio in there! I look at the top, with the ugly lamps and the Beanie Baby. Does it lift? Could this be a console? One with a turntable that plays 78’s?!

I rush off in search of Derek. It takes me quite a few minutes to locate him — he’d vanished down an isle of 10 to 12 feet of vintage vinyl (I should have known!)

I drag him over to my find.

He pulls the right ‘drawer’ and not only is it a turntable, not only does it play 78’s — but it records too!

Yup, a Wilcox-Gay Recordio (either model 7D44 or 7E44). Circa 1939-1948 (tape recording came along after 1948, rendering the disc machines obsolete) this is a beauty.

Unlike so many consoles, not only is it taller than average (35 inches) and smaller than average (34.5 inches wide), but since the radio and phonograph are inside the pull-out sections you need not keep the top clear to use it. (You know how I love my flat-topped furniture pieces.) And look at that front! That’s high-style, my friends, high-style.

Now the bad news.

The cord is literally cut in two and tied together, so we can’t plug it in to see if it works at all. “No matter,” I say. “You can fix it, get tubes or whatever it needs, right, baby?” Derek nods. (He’s got a gleam in his eye as he stares at that arm that reads “Recordio” — visions of family recordings and other audio oddities are dancing in his head.)

One problem solved.

Problem two is more difficult. With a modest price tag, we still can’t afford it. What to do?!

Thankfully, my birthday is this month and my mother in law was looking for gift ideas… Long story short, she and my father in law bought me the Recordio as an early birthday present. Hooray!

All’s well that ends well.

(And when we get to work on her — re-wiring and whatnot — we’ll be sure to fill you in on all the details.)