Roland TR-727 drum machine "The Rhythm Composer that keeps you in the groove..." four page colour brochure from October 1985.
Hey! Has it really been 20 days since 707 Day!?!?! Well golly-geeeee!
Happy 727 day, peeps!
No better way of celebrating than by scanning this lovely beast from the archives. (Yes, I also flinched when I used the word "beast" to describe a vintage brochure of a vintage drum machine). But there ya go. What's done is done.
The 1984-1986 period was an awkward one for drum machines. It was like watching your teenager go through puberty. You wanted to look away, but had to keep one eye on 'em to ensure no one got anyone else pregnant, make sure they washed their face, and wait it out until they grew into a fully (semi) functioning adult.
In the case of drum machines, it was watching them make that transition from analog to digital, while keeping one eye on the cost of memory as it slowly came down.
Okay, not the best analogy. Let's just say there was a lot going on and a lot of moving parts.
As 1984 ticked by and 1985 reared its ugly teen-age head out of the bedroom after a three day binge of Fortnite and McD's, it was just a matter of time before the intersection between the cost of memory and the cost of manufacturing hit that sweet spot. Someone got the bright idea that they could just swap out the digital sounds in a drum machine they had already manufactured, give the casing a new paint job, and slap it on the back, out the door, onto music store shelves.
And to that end, we had Boss come out with their Super Drums (DM-110) and Super Percussion (DM-220), Yamaha with their RX21 and RX21L, and of course Roland with their TR-707 and TR-727.
Each pair housed in VERY similarly manufactured boxes, with their sounds switched out for alternative percussion sounds.
It was an interesting and short-lived (experiment) solution to keeping the price-point of your drum machine down until memory came down to the point you could start really backing one single machine with tons of sounds. If I recall, it was Boss/Roland that managed to get their percussion-based boxes out the door before Yamaha, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.
Anyways, enough about those other two - I've got brochure scans ready to rock for a later date. Today is the day to let the 727 shine.
Quickly - we've got the classic Roland "We design the future" layout. Cover with large font up top and sexy photo on the bottom. And what a sexy photo this is - pairing the 727 with the Octapad PAD-8, looking longingly at each other in the subdued lighting. I can here the TR-727 softly whispering "come hither". Put some lace on that PAD-8 and this could be a Harlequin Romance book cover. Just saying.
Let's face it, Roland was expecting a large audience of the 727 to be trained percussionists, and as a friend of many percussionists, I can tell you that they love to hit things. The PAD-8 becomes the perfect companion for programming a TR-727. Although with the rigid timing of the 727, it possibly could have ended up to be more frustrating in the end.
With their interest peaked, the reader slowly opens the cover to reveal the inside pages. And it doesn't disappoint. The Roland TR font makes me so happy, as do the large photo and diagrams included! What's interesting is the shear amount of text packed into those pages - especially on the right page.
So much so, that they really had to compromise the negative space of the pages to fit it all in there.
Compare it to the 707 brochure and you can see what I mean. Subtitles are crowded in the 727 brochure, and even the line spacing of the paragraphs seem claustrophobic.
But now I'm just quibbling. It's still lovely. 9.5/10.
Now flip to the back page and we have that PAD-8 again. Coming back for some more of that sweet sweet 727 lovin'. And it looks like it brought it's friend along for a good time.
Bow-chicka-wow-wow.
The perfect upsells.
Have a safe and happy 727 day.
