Opinion: The days of a ‘weapons-grade’ tractor hi-fi are over

I had a bit of a shock when we finished speccing up options on what might be our new tractor.

We’re down to just one now, and while it isn’t very old, it’s a bit big for our farming plans, and we’re mulling replacement options.

We’d included the right tyres, a bouncy seat and suspension, manual spools and simple gearbox – all the vital stuff.

But, for the first time, I didn’t insist on a weapons-grade hi-fi.

See also: Opinion – a return to my ‘spiritual home’ – the tractor cab

About the author

Charlie Flindt

Charlie Flindt is a National Trust tenant in Hampshire, now farming 40ha of recently “de-arabled” land with his wife Hazel – who still runs a livestock enterprise. He also writes books and plays in a local band.

Read more articles by Charlie Flindt

Forty years ago, I admired a Unipart poster on the wall of a local dealer. “They used to laugh at the idea of radios in cars,” it said, next to a picture of a car radio.

Then it said: “They used to laugh at the idea of a radio in a lorry” – and there was a photo of a radio in a lorry cab. Finally, underneath a shot of a radio in a tractor cab, it said: “When you’ve finished laughing, read on.”

That struck a chord with me – I loved radio, but I was already struggling to enjoy listening in my new career as tractor driver.

I dare say there are some tractor drivers who do their day’s work without the radio, but not me. As soon as I was in the Ford 6600, I had my ITT Tiny Super radio resting on the sloping cab side, neatly held in place by the little toolbox.

When basic radios started being fitted in cabs, it was, literally, music to this audiophile’s ears.

Once dad agreed that afterfit speakers and radios could go down as “spare parts”, it was three-way Alpines and Blaupunkt’s best every time.

Decades of listening pleasure ensued, as radio became vital company during long tractor days.

Local radio grew and grew, banishing the medium wave crackle of Radio One – all we had back then, kids – to history. VHF (also known as FM) took over.

And once my name was on the farm chequebook, spending the thick end of four figures on in-cab hi-fi was not uncommon. No wonder my hearing’s failing now.

Mobile phones meant the chance to guess the Golden Year, or ring in with a witty comment or two.

I’m not saying I rang our local station a lot, but I was greeted by name when they answered. I ended up being Wave 105’s Eurovision correspondent in the days before Eurovision became trendy.

But, sadly, radio is dying. Even the mighty Steve Wright became an electronic shadow of his former self, reduced from the anarchy of “Damien the Social Worker” to the lameness of “tell us what your puppy likes for dinner”.

And now, our wonderful local commercial station has been “corporatised”.

Despite 26 years of entertaining 400,000 listeners, its owners have decided that what we need is a set of radio dinosaurs who, let’s be honest, were past their best-by date when they still worked at the BBC.

Many of the much-loved local DJs have gone. It was a sad few days when voices who have seen me through parenthood said their goodbyes.

I’ve tried the new version of the station, and it’s bland, with nothing to offer that I couldn’t find on a thousand other stations up and down the dial.

It’s just like the limited choice I had in the little 6600, even if it’s no longer on medium wave.

So, no, if a new tractor gets here, I’m not going to fuss about the radio. After all these years, my pop-tastic radio days are done.