How Sony Manufactured Those Black PlayStation CDs in 1997

PlayStation Underground captured the scene at Sony Disc Manufacturing in Springfield, Oregon, just after 7 a.m. The night shift had already run for hours, and stacks of fresh discs waited for the next steps. Everyone asked the same question back then. How did those distinctive black PlayStation CDs actually get made?

Security began at the mastering room door. To be safe, all workers donned safety gear, coveralls, and shower caps. Any of them leaving a stray hair or skin cell behind could be disastrous for the production line. However, that area had to remain sealed and locked down because the master discs within were gold, which was extremely precious.

Previously, game makers would transmit their finished products on a special gold master CD. It was nothing more than a jumbled mess of zeroes and ones, yet a laser would cut through it all, flashing on and off as it imprinted the same sequence onto a glass master disk. The disc was coated with some ultra-sensitive film, and after being exposed to that laser, as it was washed down, all of the empty film was rinsed away, leaving a microscopic spiral of tiny pits and lands so precise that you could stack a strand of hair on top of 40 of the little guys.

That glass master held the game, but it would never withstand the high-volume pressing procedure that followed. So, initially, a technician would meticulously make a metal stamper out of it, and that stamper would be responsible for all of the hard work of pressing the game onto thousands of discs. Then followed a batch of plastic pellets, which were dumped in handfuls on the floor. Machines heated them until they were the viscosity of thick syrup, then pressed them into a mold with the stamper, resulting in a flawlessly shaped disc with the stamper’s design imprinted on its surface. This time, black colorant was also thrown in, and it was this colorant that gave every PlayStation disc its signature dark appearance while also adding a small extra barrier against duplicating.

The next task on the list was to apply a thin layer of metal. Without it, the laser inside the console would have nothing to bounce against. That was what transformed the very tiny pits and lands into usable data that the console could later use to generate pictures, sound, and gameplay, and before long, the all-important quality control test arrived. A series of automated equipment inspected each disk for flaws. Any CDs that did not pass the test were immediately recycled. And no disc left the line unless it satisfied the stringent specifications required for smooth play.

Up next was the all-important artwork, and this was where screens came into play, painting on one colour at a moment across the top surface. Then came the ultraviolet lamps to set the color in place. Then it was back to the painting station to repeat the same process. This was the component that gave each game its own cover image without smearing or fading. Special trucks were guided by a computer and just rolled along a predetermined path in the facility; no one had to push or pull a single disk. As a result, 375 people were able to move more than 6 million discs per month, primarily for games, music, and software items.