The files available for download from this page are Windows Media Audio (.wma) format. They should open and play on any Windows PC running Windows Media Player version 9 or later without the need to install any additional software. If you are using a Mac, you may need to download and install Windows Media Components for QuickTime on your computer before these files will play. The reason I've used Windows Media Audio is because it reduces the file size needed for the equivalent audio quality by around 40% compared to MP3, and therefore saves bandwidth on this site. Sorry in advance for any inconvenience this may cause to Mac owners. If you're trying to listen to this stuff on your Mac and it really buggers you about, please contact me, let me know which record(s) you'd like to hear, and I'll email you MP3 versions, which should play on a Mac without any faffing.

This recent acquisition from the York Oxfam shop proves that there was nothing new about the vomit-inducing outpouring of morbid sentimentality, not to mention that atrocious ditty inflicted on us by Elton John, following Princess Di's high speed argument with a concrete wall in 1997. This example was recorded and released in the immediate aftermath of the sinking of the Titanic in April 1912 as a fundraising vehicle for the victims' families. The performer, Ernest Gray, is believed to be a pseudonym for Robert Carr (1881-1948) - presumably because in 1900s England, it would have been considered bad form to attempt to further one's career by exploiting a disaster - a light opera and Music Hall singer of the Edwardian era who was also a prolific recording artist.

The record would not win any prizes for political correctness! The first side, Stand To Your Post, opens with a 50-second recitation explaining that the record is 'dedicated to the memory of the greatest shipping disaster in the history of the world'. There then follows a song, accompanied by a brass band, in which Gray/Carr praises the heroism of the crew, who sacrified their lives to save the women and children, '...for that's the way at sea!' (especially for those who happened to be travelling first class).

Side 2 ratchets up the jingoism, taking as its inspiration the alleged last order given by the Titanic's captain, Ernest Smith, to 'be British'. If true, this goes a long way to explaining how he could have been so bloody stupid as to drive the ship at full speed ahead smack into an iceberg in the first place (shades of Princess Di again!): after all, I doubt, somehow, if the thousands of passengers shivering to death in the North Atlantic spent their last moments contemplating an application for Afghanistani citizenship.

The record label's trademark is also a tad unfortunate, given the subject matter.

I have slowed this record down to 70rpm in the transfer, on the advice of a colleage who has a set of the lantern slides which were made to be shown with this record. Looking at the timing of the slide sequence, he believes my previous transfer, at 78rpm, was too fast.

Use the playback controls above to listen. If you would like to download and save the file(s) for offline listening, right-click on a record label and select 'Save link/target as' from the context-sensitive menu.

This record is subtitled 'Stories recorded by the editor of Tit Bits', and was probably made in the early 1920s. Tit Bits was a news magazine started by the published George Newnes in 1881. It was initially a weekly digest of the British press, but after the First World War gradually became what would now be called a gossip magazine. Its reputation for risque humour is reflected in the jokes on this record (e.g. the 'stalls' double entendre in the Eton boy story), as is its predominately working class readership (the drunk lady, the iron foundry). Imperial issues also make an appearance, as in the Scotsman and the Australian in a London gentlemen's club.

While there is no date on the label, I assume that this was recorded in the early 1920s, because (i) it is clearly an acoustic, as distinct from an electric recording, which would place it before 1925 approx., and (ii) the Regal label (founded in 1914) became Regal Zonophone following a merger in 1932.

I have slowed this record down to 65rpm in the transfer, in order to make it easier to understand what the speaker is saying. I suspect that the record was cut at a considerably slower speed than 78rpm, because when played at 78 the dialogue is extremely fast and the speaker sounds like someone is trying to strangle him! The producers of the record may have decided that because there is no music (and therefore changes in pitch are less obvious), they could get away with recording at a slower speed in order to maximise the running time.

Use the playback controls above to listen. If you would like to download and save the file(s) for offline listening, right-click on a record label and select 'Save link/target as' from the context-sensitive menu.

This record is a medley of film music, presumably from well-known Hollywood or British features from the late 1920s. The 'Electrically Recorded' logo on the label indicates that the record was made after 1925, when electronic amplification replaced the acoustic horn for cutting record masters; and the reference to talkies suggests that sound films were still a new phenomenon when it was released. The first talkies were shown in London in late 1927, although substantial numbers of cinemas outside the capital didn't start installing equipment until almost a year later.

Do you recognise any of the tunes on this record? If so, please contact me, so that I can add them to the marker list.

Use the playback controls above to listen. If you would like to download and save the file(s) for offline listening, right-click on a record label and select 'Save link/target as' from the context-sensitive menu.

Sandy Powell (1900-1982) was a comedian, singer and music hall performer from Rotherham, South Yorkshire. Like his better-known counterpart Will Hay, his speciality was the bungling incompetent. In this persona he starred in a number of short films around the time of the conversion to sound, when filmed Music Hall 'turns' were a popular fixture with audiences. Two survive: Sandy the Fireman (1930) and Sandy the Lost Policeman (1932).

This record, in which Powell takes on the role of a star footballer, probably dates from around that time. It proves that corruption, shady transfer deals and hatred of the referee are nothing new!

Use the playback controls above to listen. If you would like to download and save the file(s) for offline listening, right-click on a record label and select 'Save link/target as' from the context-sensitive menu.

Before magnetic tape recording was available for sale to consumers, the only way most people could make a recording of themselves was to visit a voice booth. These were usually situated in music shops and department stores, and for a small fee you could make a (usually acetate on steel) record lasting between one and three minutes. It was common for the reverse side of the record to be pre-stamped with a commercial recording, usually an advertisement.

This advert, for De Reszke cigarettes, was made in 1932. In addition to being distributed through voice booth records, it was also broadcast on Radio Luxembourg, a commercial popular music station founded in 1933. It became increasingly popular with the British public thanks to the (legal) monopoly enjoyed by the BBC over broadcasting within the UK. Under John Reith's leadership, BBC radio only broadcast a very limited range of popular music, with the result that competing stations were established on the other side of the English Channel, using high-powered transmitters to broadcast pop music - and adverts such as this one - to the British listening public.

Heard today, the innuendo and double entendre in this song is immediately apparent (e.g. 'Don't start lighting that large affair', 'Mine may be thinner, but I'll be the winner'). It would be interesting to know whether it was to contemporary audiences, too.

Use the playback controls above to listen. If you would like to download and save the file(s) for offline listening, right-click on a record label and select 'Save link/target as' from the context-sensitive menu.

Debroy Somers (1890-1952) was an Irish composer and bandleader who settled in Britain in the late '00s. After serving in the First World War, he learnt his trade working as a demonstrator for a London-based piano manufacturer, in which capacity he made a number of recordings. It was during this period that he developed his renowned skills as an arranger, which are so clearly in evidence on this record. His association with London's Savoy hotel began in the mid-1920s, and for over two decades he ranked alongside the likes of Jack Hylton and Charlie Kunz as a star of the Big Band era in British popular music.

As you may have gathered from Talkie Tunes above, the medley was a widespread musical format in the 78 era, which disappeared with the launch of the long-playing record in 1948. Within the six-minute (two sides of a 10" 78) or eight-minute (12") running time, bandleaders would cram in as many musical 'sound bites' from a popular film or musical as they could, which often called for virtuoso skills from the performers. In this record from 1935, Somers and his band provide an unusual take on some traditional carols.

Apologies for the poor audio quality on this record: my copy is in very poor condition with a lot of surface noise, almost certainly because its previous owner repeatedly played it with a microgroove (LP) stylus before I bought it from the Headlingley Oxfam shop. In such cases, the digital noise reduction available on the sofware I use for audio editing (Adobe Encore 1.5) can go so far and no further without seriously damaging HF response in the actual signal. Unless I manage to find another copy of the record in better condition, this is about as good as it's going to get.

Use the playback controls above to listen. If you would like to download and save the file(s) for offline listening, right-click on a record label and select 'Save link/target as' from the context-sensitive menu.

Recorded in London at the height of the 1941 Blitz, this propaganda broadcast was made by the celebrity American war correspondent Quentin Reynolds (1902-65) on the BBC's Sunday evening Postscript programme. Though ostensibly in the form of a 'letter' to the Nazi propaganda minister Paul Joseph Goebbels, the broadcast really had two objectives: to boost morale among the domestic audience, and to campaign for greater American support for Britain (hence the reference to stronger supply lines to Britain from the US and Canada - remember that America did not enter the war militarily until after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941).

Reynolds was the London-based war correspondent for the US newspaper Collier's Weekly, and is probably best remembered today for the commentary in Humphrey Jennings's film London Can Take It, released shortly before this broadcast was made. The film suggested that the Nazi blitzkrieg was failing to undermine the morale of the British population. In this broadcast he acknowledges the message of the film and then describes the efforts of the Royal Air Force in counterattacking against the Luftwaffe bombers.

While the exaggerated, almost melodramatic tone of his delivery can be distracting in some passages, Mass Observation surveys and other evidence from the period suggests that Reynolds's films, articles and broadcasts had a significant and lasting effect on Anglo-American relations during the initial phase of the Second World War.

Use the playback controls above to listen. If you would like to download and save the file(s) for offline listening, right-click on a record label and select 'Save link/target as' from the context-sensitive menu.