SECTION 04
Buying One
First, pin down the mark — I said it above and it bears repeating with money on the table: Mk II is the sweet spot for most collectors (real-time counter, zero-locate, varispeed, better component suppliers), Mk III is fine but its electronics cards don’t interchange with the earlier machines and the mic inputs are gone. Then ask what the machine did for a living: many PR99s worked hard in radio stations. That’s not disqualifying — they were built for exactly that — but ask for head photos and look for flats and wear lines, and treat the hour-meter story with healthy skepticism.
The service checklist is well-trodden Revox territory: a hardened or glazed pinch roller (rebuildable), tired electrolytic capacitors and the notorious little RIFA mains-filter caps that crack and smoke, scratchy trimpots, brake linings, and back-tension out of spec. None of it is scary, because parts support for the B77/PR99 family is arguably the best in the entire hobby — dedicated Revox specialists still stock rollers, cap kits, brake bands, even new-old-stock heads, and the service manual is thorough enough to rebuild the machine from the bench up. A playback-only example like mine needs even less: playback alignment and a clean tape path, and it earns its keep.
Power is refreshingly easy. Most PR99s have a multi-voltage mains selector (100–240 V taps), and European units are set for 220–240 V out of the box. The capstan is tacho-servo controlled, so — like the Technics — mains frequency is irrelevant to speed. Confirm the voltage tap setting before first power-on and you’re done.
Most of my collection came from Japan and lives behind step-down transformers (Philippine mains is 220 V / 60 Hz, Japanese domestic machines want 100 V — and 60 Hz-sensitive ones get set to match our grid, which they happily do). The Swiss PR99 is the exception in the rack: set to the 220 V tap, it drinks straight from the wall.