Panasonic admits it struggled with how to acknowledge the SL-1200’s history and fans.

“There was a lot of debate,” Mr. Morishita said. “Would we keep the name? Would we change the design?” In the end, he said, the company decided the turntable was too iconic to change drastically. The latest version, the SL-1200G, has an upgraded motor and a few other touches, but is otherwise the same as the players that Technics made in decades past.

The main difference is in the marketing. Instead of sponsoring D.J. contests, Technics has hired a German classical pianist, Alice Sara Ott, to be its “global brand ambassador” and provided an SL-1200G to Abbey Road Studios, of Beatles fame. Serene connoisseurship, not sweaty nightclubs, is the theme.

“Listening to records is like tea ceremony, or flower arranging,” said Michiko Ogawa, director of the Technics division. She added that music recorded by live musicians showed off Technics’s hi-fi qualities best.

Panasonic is hardly the first company to try to change a product’s image, though most marketing makeovers are aimed in the other direction — turning old and fusty into young and hip. Think “not your father’s Oldsmobile” or the rebranding of Old Spice cologne for younger men. In a world where hip-hop and dance music have become worldwide phenomena, sought after by marketers of everything from energy drinks to running shoes, it is in some ways remarkable that an authentic part of the culture has turned its back.

“It’s unusual in that you’ve had relatively positive associations and decided to disown that,” said Ravi Dhar, a professor of marketing at Yale.

“When the brand already has an image that is associated with certain groups, if you try to move away from it, it’s risky,” he said. “But for them, the associations weren’t positive for the market they’re targeting.”