When Philips launched the PMC 100 in 1986, they weren't trying to build another synthesizer for musicians — they were creating a personal music workstation for teenagers, complete with a built-in cassette deck that could save your compositions as either digital data or analog audio, a feature that was genuinely ahead of its time.
The heart of the PMC 100 is a Yamaha two-operator FM synthesis engine delivering 100 preset melody voices plus 15 additional voices designed for auto-accompaniment. The interface centers on a two-octave membrane keyboard (similar to the EDP Wasp but non-capacitive) with a safe-note feature that keeps you in key, paired with an LCD screen displaying your sequences in full musical notation. You get a four-octave step-time composer with single-step editing, 2000 events of memory, six music tracks, five rhythm tracks, and twelve accompaniment styles with four play modes. The built-in cassette recorder lets you layer your own voice over compositions or simply use it as a portable stereo. Connectivity includes a headphone/line-out socket, microphone input, and power via either six AA batteries or a 9-volt adapter.
The real strength of the PMC 100 lies in its step sequencer, which feels surprisingly intuitive for the era — notes can be added or removed with precision, and the tempo adjusts to extreme degrees. The FM voices lean toward that characteristic Yamaha PortaSound character, with useable sound effects and slowly evolving pads alongside the expected strings and brass. The accompaniment rhythms are admittedly thin and preset-locked, which limits its solo potential, but as a compositional sketchpad or lo-fi production tool, it's genuinely charming. Collectors and experimental musicians have long appreciated it as a curious artifact that deserved better timing and marketing, though its cryptic interface without a proper English manual has kept it from achieving cult status.