In a box in a basement in Dortmund, an original Grundig 8-in-1 still sits. Its LCD screen (on the fancier models) is faded. The "SAT" button is worn smooth. But if you put in fresh AA batteries, point it at an old Telefunken TV, and press "Power"? The static will clear, the green LED will blink, and for a moment, the 1990s flicker back to life—controlled by a single, patient, German hand.
While other universal remotes required you to flip through a 50-page booklet of 4-digit codes (hold "Setup," press "TV," enter 0451, pray), the Grundig introduced a quasi-intelligent search. It had dedicated mode buttons at the top:
What truly set the high-end models of the Grundig 8-in-1 apart was a tiny, red, light-sensitive bulb at the top. This was a . grundig 8 in 1 remote control
But the 8-in-1 remote lived on in drawers, garages, and vacation homes. Why? Because it was . The plastic was thick ABS. The circuit board was screwed down, not clipped. The rubber keypad was a single, sealed membrane that survived juice spills.
Prologue: The Curse of the Coffee Table
Today, we control our streaming sticks with voice commands. "Alexa, play Netflix." But there is a quiet nostalgia for the Grundig 8-in-1. It was the remote control that required skill . You could operate it by feel in the dark, your thumb finding the raised nub on the "Volume" rocker.
Its claim to fame was printed right on the box: This meant it could control up to eight different devices. But the magic was not in the number; it was in the logic . In a box in a basement in Dortmund,
Collectors today hunt for the specific model or RC-9 . They praise its "key travel"—a satisfying, deep click that modern whisper-flat remotes lack.
