Panasonic RQ-WJ1 "The Way"

The World's Smallest Stereo Cassette Player

I remember the first Walkman I ever saw in person. It belonged to a friend of my sister, who came by the house to show it off. It was a silver Sony WM-4, and it blew my mind. I only got a brief moment to put on the foam-covered headphones, but the sound coming out of this handheld wonder was enough to make me want one. That year, I planned to put the Walkman at the top of my Christmas list, but as the months passed and I started looking at other portable cassette players, my opinion changed. When it came time to make my Christmas list, I was very clear about which brand and model I wanted: the Panasonic RQ-WJ1, also known as "The Way."

It first caught my attention in various newspaper ads, long before I got to see one in person. Why? Because it was described as “the World’s Smallest Stereo Cassette Player.” I was already amazed by how small and functional the Sony Walkman was, but how could Panasonic have made something even smaller? I had to know just how much smaller it was, and I needed to get to a store to find out.

In the early eighties, Sam Goody didn’t just sell records and tapes; they also had a decent selection of audio equipment to play them. A mall we frequented had a Sam Goody, and my plan was to check it out there.

I still remember going into the store that day. My sister liked going into record stores, but this was an entirely new experience for me. The sights, and especially the sounds, were a bit overwhelming, and I was initially confused. After asking an employee, I was directed to the audio equipment.

The newspaper illustrations of the RQ-WJ1 didn’t do it justice. It was so much smaller than any Walkman I had seen up to that point, but what really blew me away were the colors. It was bone white with two large buttons on the front—one red, one black. The rest of the controls were shiny silver. I couldn’t describe its design aesthetic at the time, but I was captivated.

Now, if I were to label it, I’d point to late seventies and early eighties’ futurism. The white body with colorful, clear buttons built into the front were cleanly labeled and easy to use. It might not be an accurate term, but to me, it felt like a device out of Star Trek or another optimistic, futuristic piece of entertainment. Whatever it was, I wanted one.

Before I reveal my "cunning" plan to get an RQ-WJ1, let’s talk about its capabilities. This thing was small—barely bigger than a cassette—and weighed a little more than 9 ounces (340.19 grams). That weight didn’t include the headphones, batteries, belt holster, or a cassette. For 1982, it was shockingly light. Panasonic achieved this by implementing some interesting features, starting with the fast-forward and rewind buttons.

These buttons were built into the cassette door, and when you pushed them, they engaged the sprocket directly. This feature was found in other cassette players, but I don't think it was implemented as well as it was here.

The real magic happened on the inside, which I only discovered when I opened it up to change the belts. Inside, I found a flexible printed circuit board that wrapped around itself. To access the belts, you had to carefully unfold it, like opening a book. Amazingly, after unfolding and refolding it, the player still worked. While this folding design kept the player small, it made servicing the unit very challenging.

Unlike many portable cassette players of the time, which often included AM/FM tuners, the RQ-WJ1 was solely dedicated to cassette playback. This streamlined focus allowed Panasonic to reduce weight further.

While I fell in love with the white version of the RQ-WJ1, it was also available in “bouncy bright red” (their words) and metallic gray (RQ-KJ1). The gray version might have been as small as the WJ1, but it lacked the cool color door buttons, on the RQ-KJ1, they blended in more, and the color was much more muted.

The player came with a pair of single-wire headphones, which were more convenient for this form factor since they tangled less. The headphone cord also had an in-line pause switch, which was advertised as a battery-saving feature. Like the early Sony Walkman, "The Way" had a second headphone jack so you could share your music with someone else.

Looks comfortable.

You could also buy a belt holster with an ingenious design that allowed you to remove and insert cassettes without taking it off your belt, or an optional shoulder strap. Once you had it on your belt, you might want to buy the battery adapter for extra playtime, although it added weight and bulk.

Other features included Auto Stop, which automatically stopped the cassette when it finished playing. On the side, there was a tape selector that allowed you to choose the type of tape—Normal, Metal, or Chrome—for optimal sound quality.

This thing was cutting-edge, and I wanted one. The problem was the price. In 1982, it retailed for around $150, equivalent to about $489 today. Even though it occasionally went on sale for as little as $70, that was still around $228—more than my family was willing to spend on a personal cassette player. I tried saving money, but progress was slow, so as Christmas approached, I went on a charm offensive. Like Ralphie from A Christmas Story, I dropped hints and talked about how much of a game-changer the RQ-WJ1 would be.

I didn’t think my strategy through. What I failed to consider was that my mom would interpret my appeals for a cassette player as a request for any cassette player. So when Christmas came and I opened my last present, I found my very first portable cassette player—an MCS, which I believe they bought at JC Penney. I was both excited and disappointed, but I did my best to be enthusiastic.

I used that cassette player for many years. Its audio quality was okay, but it was heavy and burned through batteries. Eventually, I did get an RQ-KJ1, and it was everything I had hoped for. Unfortunately, by the time I got it, the heyday of cassettes was already over, and it has since stopped working (though I haven’t given up on it yet).

The makings of a perfect Saturday afternoon.

Is it worth getting one nowadays? Probably not. They are hard to find and if you do find one, it usually doesn’t work. Add to that they whatever you find will be over-priced and that fixing them is extremely challenging. Unless this is your dream portable cassette player, admire it from afar, but if you got the fever like I do, nothing I say will stop you.

Looking back, my quest for the perfect cassette player was about more than just music. It was about chasing that feeling of owning something futuristic, something cool, something that felt like it came straight out of a sci-fi movie. The Panasonic RQ-WJ1 might not have been my first player, but it represented everything I wanted at the time: innovation, style, and a little bit of escape. Even though I didn’t get it right away, the memory of discovering it, the excitement it stirred, and the joy of eventually getting my hands on one is something I’ll always treasure. Sure, technology has moved on, but the magic of those early portable players and the dreams they sparked still feels as real as ever.