King Records Co. History

Let's now look at the labels to understand what information we can get from them.

Above, we see three images of the SLB 2 disc, Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade conducted by Ansermet. As with the Decca Wide Band Ed1 and Ed2 pressings, the label features a deep groove. It also displays the original master tape code, ZAL 2369, alongside the code SDLB 1. The latter represents King Records' progressive production number; I chose this specific copy because it belongs to the very first production run (the B-side naturally bears the code SDLB 2). While no official documentation has been found, it is generally assumed that SDLB is an acronym for Stereo Decca Local Board. In the dead wax, we find the standard Decca matrix code ZAL 2369 2E, confirming that Stanley Goodall cut the lacquer. However, Decca's usual mother and stamper indicators are absent. This is because King Records chose to embed them within the numbers following SDLB 1 in the runout groove—in this case, "SDLB 1 5-2". This method of indicating mothers and stampers was frequently modified over the years.

Experts will likely notice that the master tape serial number, ZAL 2369, is significantly lower than usual for a 1959 release. In fact, this recording of Ansermet’s Scheherazade belongs to the very first series of stereo recordings made by Decca in France. More precisely, in September 1954, producer Victor Olof and recording engineer James Brown captured several performances at the Maison de la Mutualité in Paris with the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra under Ansermet's baton.

The mono recording, on the other hand, was entrusted to Kenneth Wilkinson, who was already widely regarded as one of Decca’s finest recording engineers, if not the best. Why wasn't Wilkinson assigned to the stereo recording? The explanation is simple: during this September 1954 session, stereo was still experimental. Wilkinson's monophonic version (Decca LXT 5082) was released in September 1955, whereas Brown's stereophonic version remained unreleased until January 1959 (with King Records' SLB 2 following closely in February 1959). Kenneth Wilkinson would not take permanent charge of stereo recordings until April 1958; until then, his focus remained almost exclusively on mono.

For historical context, Decca's very first classical stereo recordings were captured by producer James Walker and recording engineer Roy Wallace at Victoria Hall in Geneva. That session featured the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, also conducted by Ansermet, in May 1954—just four months prior to Scheherazade. For the sake of completeness, Roy Wallace is credited with inventing the famous "Decca Tree" microphone array and constructing the ST2 valve mixer to which the microphones were connected.

This is SLB22 Tchaikovsky sym no. 6 Jean Martinon: still deep groove, we have the Decca code ZAL 4039 7K (so we know the lacquer was cut by Tony Hawkins), while the King code is SDLB 163 B-2-1, a different setting from the SLB2 we analyzed previously. We conclude this section with a fascinating archival image sourced from a 1960s Japanese audio magazine detailing the King Records manufacturing pipeline. Although the print clarity is aged, the photograph clearly documents the specialized pine shipping crates sent directly from Decca's UK facilities, which were used to safely transport the precious metal parts (mothers) across the globe to Japan.

The SLC 1000 series debuted at the end of 1959 and spanned well over a decade, finally concluding around 1975–1976 with catalog numbers reaching near the SLC 2500 mark. (I refrain from pinpointing the exact final entry, as my primary research and collecting focus remain strictly confined to pressings manufactured through the end of the 1960s).

Consequently, the SLC 1000 line stands as King Records' most significant series in terms of sheer volume. More importantly, it is within this very catalog that the label reached its absolute zenith in manufacturing and sonic craftsmanship—safely excluding, of course, specialized niche runs like the " Stereo Laboratory Series" or the later premium "Super Analogue" reissues.

Let us now examine some notable titles from my personal collection.

Launched alongside the SLB series—which had been on the market for less than a year—this new series introduced absolutely no changes to graphic design, packaging layout, or musical content. The sole differentiator was the retail price: the SLC series was positioned at 2,000 yen, whereas the SLB series cost 2,300 yen.

This pricing discrepancy was simply a clever marketing strategy deployed by King Records. If the premium SLB series had maintained its strong sales momentum, the label would have continued expanding it. However, if fierce market competition began to stifle sales, King Records could seamlessly pivot and rely on the more affordable SLC series to capture the market—which is precisely what happened.

Over its fifteen-year production lifespan, the physical and aesthetic characteristics of the SLC series underwent a continuous evolution. The primary shifts can be categorized as follows:

• Vinyl Weight: The earliest pressings were remarkably heavy, weighing between 220 and 190 grams. By the mid-1960s, the weight stabilized into a standard 160 to 180-gram range, before gradually tapering down to a lighter 130 grams by the mid-1970s.

• Jacket Construction: Adhering strictly to Decca/London standards, the jackets featured a heavy, glossy laminated paper finish until roughly 1968. Furthermore, releases up until 1966 utilized the "Blue-back" design—mirroring the US London Records style—before transitioning to a standard white back.

• Labels: The "deep groove" label until November 1971.

• Obi Strips: While the earliest Obi strips featured a variety of colors, gold and yellow were the most prominent. However, from catalog number SLC 1184 (October 1962) through SLC 1659 (February 1968), a uniform blue Obi became the standard. Following this period, the design permanently shifted to a solid red Obi. Crucially, King Records operated on a small-batch production model tailored to real-time market demand and when retail stock was depleted, the label handled represses in one of two ways based on sales velocity:

  1. Modest Demand : If the demand was low, King Records simply repressed the vinyl using existing artwork. However, because these silent represses spanned multiple years, they often blended components from different eras. For instance, a first pressing of The Best of Tebaldi (SLC 1322, June 1964) features a blue-back jacket, a deep groove label, and a blue Obi. A later, seemingly identical repress of the same catalog number strips away these features, presenting a white-back jacket, a flat label (no deep groove), a red Obi, and updated matrix stampers.

  2. High Demand (Reissued Catalog Numbers): If a title proved to be a major commercial success, King Records chose to overhaul the release entirely, assigning it a completely new SLC catalog number and printing a brand-new jacket layout. Attached below are three distinct pressings of the exact same recording, perfectly capturing these chronological manufacturing variations.

SLC 1095 ( 1962 ) 2E/1E SLC 1337 ( 1964 ) 2E/2E SLC 1760 ( 1969 ) 6W/4W

It goes without saying, but it is worth explicitly reinforcing: every single King Records title pressed up until the early 1970s was derived from metal parts manufactured directly by Decca, without a single exception. The only Japanese-cut masters from this era are those created for domestic recordings produced entirely within Japan—material that naturally never belonged to the official Decca catalog. Below are three examples

Joerg Demus piano recital Jacques Lancelot clarinet recital Hiroshi Wakasugi Mozart Requiem

As established in the previous chapter on Decca, the British company never bothered to inform record buyers about the specific lathe or cutterhead utilized in their mastering chains—a marketing omission shared by virtually all major Western record manufacturers. In Japan, however, the consumer landscape was entirely different. Driven by a domestic audio industry that had already achieved global leadership, Japanese hi-fi and music magazines adopted a highly technical, specialized approach to their reporting. Consequently, the average Japanese record buyer possessed a much more sophisticated understanding of the engineering behind vinyl production than their Western counterparts. For King Records, explicitly advertising that a lacquer had been cut using Neumann's latest cutting technology was a powerful marketing tool that directly stimulated sales. Below are two distinct examples where the Obi strips explicitly boast the use of the Neumann SX-74 cutterhead. Given that "74" designates the hardware's market introduction year, these specific pressings could not have been manufactured any earlier than 1974, with a commercial release date more likely falling in 1975 or later.

To conclude this chapter dedicated to the SLC series, I would like to present some rare editions that showcase King Records' exceptional standards in packaging quality.This first example actually involves a "phantom" release: Mozart's Piano Concertos Nos. 26 and 27, performed by Clifford Curzon with the London Symphony Orchestra conducted by István Kertész. As is well known, Curzon never gave his final approval for the release, and consequently, the vinyl pressing was aborted. It was only after his passing that Curzon's heirs reached an agreement with Decca, allowing these historic recordings to finally see the light of day on CD. Piano Concerto No. 26 was recorded in December 1967 at Kingsway Hall by Gordon Parry, while Piano Concerto No. 27 was captured in October of the same year by Kenneth Wilkinson at the very same venue. Mastered under tape numbers ZAL 10041 and ZAL 10042, these two concertos were intended to form the Decca album SXL 6492 (and London CS 6700)—titles that appeared in the official catalogue but were never commercially released. The test pressing examined here, mastered in Japan with matrix numbers SKT 439 and SKT 440, was never officially distributed to the public.

SLC 1143: Tchaikovsky Swan Lake Ansermet OSR was printed in 1962. In that year almost all the titles in the SLB series were re-issued in the SLC series with similar numbering (SLB 43 became SLC 1143). It is an example of a gatefold that contains descriptions and images. Obviously for those who do not know Japanese these descriptions are of dubious use but the images are still beautiful.

SLC 1337: Dvorak symphony no 9 Kertesz VPO. This is an example of a gatefold that contains the complete score and a continuous image between the front and back.

SLC 1421: Tchaikovsky symphony no 6 Maazel VPO. This is an example of a gatefold containing the complete score.

SLC 1841: Strauss Symphonia domestica Mehta Los Angeles Philharmonic

SLC 1251: Dvorak Piano quintet Curzon VPQ. Gatefold with continuos image between the front and back

Let's now examine the SLX series: it was born in 1961 and was used exclusively to collect multi-disc box sets. The SLX2 series contains two records, the SLX3 series contains three, and so on. The only difference from the SLC series is that the records have a blue label instead of a red one. With a few exceptions, the SLX series ended in 1966/67. Let's look at some examples

For the 1964 Olympics held in Tokyo, many Western orchestras toured Japan. Among them was the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, conducted by Ernst Ansermet. To commemorate this historic tour, King Records released a luxurious seven-disc box set (SLX 7-1) compiling all three of Tchaikovsky’s ballets under Ansermet's baton. Befitting its status as a premium commemorative edition, the set was available exclusively via advance subscription, with the pre-order window closing in August 1964.

In 1967, the SLC 7000 series was launched, essentially replacing the SLX series. It consisted exclusively of multi-disc box sets; as a rule, these were new titles, but occasionally there were reissues. The labels were red, like the SLC 1000 series, and until 1971, they featured a deep groove. Here are some examples

In November 1964, the SMR 5000 series was launched, designed to reissue previously released titles but at a lower price, only 1,200 yen compared to the 2,000 yen of the SLC series. The titles were not only from the Decca catalog but also from Westminster, Vanguard, and Telefunken. The covers were cheaper and the vinyl was lighter than the original SLC releases. We already know the first SMR 5001 title: Scheherazade Ansermet, which we already saw when it was released as SLB2. Let's look at them side by side.

SLB 2 1959 2E/2E SMR 5001 1964 3E/3E

Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade – A Tale of Two Cuts To diverge slightly from our main timeline, let us examine Ernest Ansermet’s 1954 recording of Scheherazade with the Paris Conservatoire Orchestra. This symphonic suite spans four movements with a total running time of approximately 41 minutes. Side A accommodates the first two movements (roughly 20 minutes), while Side B holds the remaining two (roughly 21 minutes). For mastering engineer Stanley Goodall, cutting this particular lacquer was a straightforward task; the modest side lengths allowed him to preserve the recording's full dynamic range and robust bass frequencies without sonic compromise. In 1960, Ansermet re-recorded Scheherazade, this time in Geneva with his Orchestre de la Suisse Romande. Released as Decca SXL 2268 (and later in Japan as King Records SLC 1064), this performance ran slightly longer at 43 minutes. However, Decca executives decided to maximize the LP's commercial appeal by adding Borodin’s Polovtsian Dances—an extra 11 minutes of music. Once balance engineer Roy Wallace completed the sessions, the master tapes (ZAL 5039 and ZAL 5040) were handed over to the mastering suite. Coincidentally, Stanley Goodall was again tasked with cutting the lacquers. This time, the track layout presented a technical nightmare. Goodall was forced to squeeze the first three movements of Scheherazade onto Side A—a grueling 30-minute runtime—leaving the fourth movement and the Polovtsian Dances to share a 25-minute Side B. To accommodate these extreme lengths, severe mastering compromises were inevitable, resulting in reduced dynamics and attenuated bass. Definite proof of this compromise arrived in 1989, when King Records remastered the performance for their premium Super Analogue series (catalog number 360R 56004). Utilizing master tape copies supplied by Decca, King Records chose to completely omit the Borodin filler. By dedicating the entire LP to Scheherazade alone, they restored the ideal layout: the first two movements on Side A, and the final two on Side B, finally unlocking the recording's true sonic potential. Below are the images documenting these layout differences.

To demonstrate that such mastering compromises were far from isolated incidents, let us examine István Kertész’s recordings of Dvořák’s From the New World Symphony. In March 1961, Kertész recorded the masterpiece at the Sofiensaal with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. Released as Decca SXL 2289 (and in Japan as King Records SLC 1095), the LP layout was perfectly balanced: Side A contained the first two movements (approximately 22 minutes), while Side B housed the final two (approximately 19 minutes). These generous timeframes allowed for an optimal, uncompromised lacquer cut.In 1966, Kertész re-recorded the symphony, this time at Kingsway Hall with the London Symphony Orchestra. However, just as with Ansermet's Scheherazade, Decca chose to maximize the disc's value by appending a filler track: Dvořák’s Othello Overture, which clocks in at over 14 minutes. Consequently, the track layout for the resulting LP (Decca SXL 6291) presented another technical challenge. Side A was forced to carry the first three movements of the symphony, pushing the total running time to a grueling 32 minutes. Side B fared only slightly better, combining the final movement with the Othello Overture for a total of roughly 26 minutes.It goes without saying that when King Records later reissued this definitive LSO performance in their premium Super Analogue series (catalog number K38C 7003), they completely omitted the Othello Overture. By prioritizing sonic fidelity over playback length, they restored the symphony's ideal movement split across both sides, freeing the recording from Decca's original spatial constraints.

Below are the images documenting these layout variations

We conclude this page dedicated to the SMR series with some images

The SY series made its debut in 1964: these were box sets of operas printed in limited and numbered editions, generally no more than 500 copies. Here are some examples

King Records was not only the licensee for Decca in Japan, but also for Westminster, Vanguard, Telefunken, and others. The SH,SR and STC series released several titles starting in 1963. Let's start with some records recorded by Joseph Keilberth for the Telefunken catalog.

Hans Knapperstbusch from the Westminster catalog

Various works

The last major premium series produced by King Records was the SLA 1000, launched in 1968. Priced at 2,300 yen per disc, it matched the retail cost of the original SLB series from a decade prior. However, this static price point must be viewed through the lens of Japan's tumultuous postwar economic miracle. By 1968, staggering growth had propelled Japan to become the world's second-largest economy, trailing only the United States. This rapid expansion triggered significant inflation; between 1959 and 1968, Japan's cumulative inflation rate hovered around 45%. Consequently, the purchasing power of 2,300 yen in 1968 was substantially lower than it had been in 1959. Understanding these macroeconomic shifts is crucial, as they forced record manufacturers to rapidly adapt their market strategies to a transforming consumer base. In 1959, an SLB series collector required a highly sophisticated, financially prohibitive audio setup: typically a hand-wired, low-wattage vacuum tube amplifier paired with large, highly efficient loudspeakers. By the mid-1960s, the commercialization of solid-state transistor amplifiers revolutionized the high-fidelity sector. Transistors offered two distinct advantages: Higher Power Output: Increased wattage allowed amplifiers to drive less efficient, smaller, and far more affordable loudspeakers. Industrialized Production: Lower manufacturing costs and economies of scale dramatically drove down retail prices. This technological evolution downsized both the financial barrier and the physical footprint of home audio systems—a critical factor for consumers living in compact Japanese homes. Concurrently, economic growth distributed new wealth, welcoming an influx of first-time buyers into the vinyl market. During the SLB era, King Records manufactured a niche luxury product for an elite audience, allowing them to focus heavily on craftsmanship and detail. The transition to a mass-market model, where price dictated consumer choice, shifted corporate priorities. To satisfy a now-diverse demographic containing highly price-sensitive buyers, King Records aggressively segmented its catalog starting in the 1970s. They introduced budget reissue series (such as the SLA 6000, SLC 8000, and GT series) priced as low as 1,000 yen to repurpose 1960s catalog titles. The SLA 1000 series preserved the company's legacy of uncompromising quality, particularly during its initial run. The series maintained strict production standards:the catalog consisted strictly of new, first-time releases, never budget reissues, every release up to catalog number SLA 1049 featured a lavish gatefold jacket, vinyls up to SLA 1024 (November 1971) retained the coveted "deep groove" labels. Until the series concluded in 1980, pressings originated directly from Decca-supplied metal parts. Crucially, if a title required a repress and the original British stampers were exhausted, King Records would cut new lacquers in-house using a copy of the master tape. For these subsequent represses, the deluxe gatefold jackets were stripped back to standard single-pocket covers.

Let us examine some illustrative examples of this transition.

In the upcoming titles the Obi strips explicitly state that the lacquers were cut using the state-of-the-art Neumann SX-68 cutterhead. This inclusion represents a highly significant archival detail, as Decca itself had never previously disclosed specific data regarding the implementation of this particular hardware in their mastering chain.

Let us now examine Georg Solti’s The Richard Strauss Album, released by Decca in 1976 under catalog number SXL 6749. On the original British pressing, Side A (mastered from tape ZAL 14043) contained the complete Also sprach Zarathustra, running approximately 31 minutes. Side B (ZAL 14044) combined Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks and Don Juan for a staggering total duration of about 33 minutes. Recognizing that such excessive side lengths were fundamentally incompatible with high-fidelity playback—as they required severe compromises in groove pitch, bass response, and dynamic range—King Records took a radically different approach. Rather than cramming the music onto a single disc, the Japanese label split the content across two entirely separate LPs. Specifically, they dedicated SLA 1116 exclusively to Also sprach Zarathustra, and SLA 1120 to the combination of Till Eulenspiegel and Don Juan. By giving each work ample room to breathe on the vinyl surface, King Records avoided the spatial constraints that plagued the UK release. This dual-album configuration proved so successful that both titles were later resurrected as individual reissues in the premium Super Analogue series. Below are the images documenting the structural differences and track layouts between the single UK release and the expanded Japanese pressings.