The 1937 edition of the songbook is a 54-page monument to glassey-eyed corporate inhumanity, with every page overflowing with trite praise to The Company and Its Men.

The booklet reads like a terribly parody of a hymnal – one that praises not the traditional Christian trinity but the new corporate triumvirate of IBM the father, Watson the son, and American entrepreneurship as the holy spirit.

“For thirty-seven years,” reads the opening passage in the book, “the gatherings and conventions of our IBM workers have expressed in happy songs the fine spirit of loyal cooperation and good fellowship which has promoted the signal success of our great IBM Corporation in its truly International Service for the betterment of business and benefit to mankind.”

The key takeaway to deflate a lot of the looniness is that the majority of the songs came out of the Great Depression era, and employees lucky enough to be steadfastly employed by a company like IBM often were really that grateful.

The formal integration of singing as an aspect of IBM’s culture at the time was heavily encouraged by Thomas J. Watson Sr. Watson and his employees co-opted the era’s showtunes and popular melodies for their proto-filking, ensuring that everyone would know the way the song went, if not the exact wording.

Such brilliant examples as, “If they use machines in Mars / We will sell them some of ours!” and “T. J. Watson, we all honor you / You’re so big and so square and so true / We will follow and serve with you forever / All the world must know what I. B. M. can do,” make it easy to watch one’s brain melt.

Thankfully, after Thomas Watson Senior’s death in the 1950s, his son Thomas Watson Junior tactfully let the great era of corporate songsmanship fade, disbanding the symphony orchestra.

It’s actually very reminiscent of the corporate Japanese “Salaryman” concept.

Via ars technica.