Past, Present and Future

The Neuron, Origin and Solaris are all beautiful creations. I sincerely appreciate the craft and love that went in to each of them. The synthesist in me would like nothing more than to see each of them to be an enormous success, because this will enable these bold pioneers to create a succession of interesting, inspiring instruments. They are already successes of vision, and implementation. Unfortunately, in terms of sales, I believe they will all be failures.

It used to be, if you wanted new sounds, you had to buy a hardware synthesizer. The synthesizer market was subsidized almost entirely by casual users. But now we live in a post-virtual instrument world. Today, casual users would rather spend $300 on a virtual instrument instead of $3000 for a hardware synthesizer. Piracy also needs to be factored into the equation. Yes, hardware synths today are competing with pirated software.

So, what does this mean? It means that it is no longer economically viable to produce a certain class of synthesizer - the class that encompasses the Neuron, Origin and Solaris.

The hardware synthesizer market still exists, but in an abbreviated form. There are stage instruments for the gigging musician, workstations for the computer-phobic, and controllers/USB keyboards galore. All of these need to be hardware. But the synthesizer-synthesizer, that is, a hardware synthesizer as a unique, dedicated platform for new sounds, does not exist anymore.

The first major platform to fail in the post-VI market was the Hartman Neuron. The Neuron was a beautiful, ambitious synthesizer, with an original sound design paradigm and forward-looking features like built-in surround sound. It hit all the 'right' areas as an instrument of desirability. It also had absolutely no reason to be hardware. The Neuron was a computer, running software, and on the outside, it looked like a keyboard. The Neuron eventually became a virtual instrument with a hardware dongle disguised as a controller, but it was too late to save it.



The Arturia Origin is another drop dead gorgeous synthesizer. You can create hybrid synthesizers based on modeled components of various vintage hardware - all from the front panel. It is festooned with dozens of delicious looking knobs. The Origin is a synthesist's elusive dream since the days of the PPG Realizer. This is a very lust-worthy piece of gear... except... why is it hardware? Like the Neuron, the Origin is simply a computer inside. The only difference from a computer is the dedicated knobs and buttons.



Dedicated knobs and buttons? That is a difference worth paying for. Except... in practice, the user interface is kind of clumsy. Even with the large display, I don't see an improved workflow versus using a computer. It actually looks like a step backwards. I imagine the Arturia folks got suggestions from users like, "Your stuff is awesome! You should make hardware, it'll sell tons!" There is a huge gulf between a great idea and how it works in practice, however.

The Solaris looks like a huge win. It sounds great, it has tons of knobs and comes from a respected name. It is the kind of dream synthesizer a synth nerd like myself would sketch up and fantasize about.



Again, I ask, why is this hardware? This is software in the shape of a keyboard. There are 800 parameters on the Solaris and 40 knobs. So, by definition, each knob will be performing several duties. Will you be gigging with this keyboard and editing sounds on the fly? Really? The Solaris tries to shoehorn a very sophisticated, flexible and layered synthesis engine into the form factor of something the size of a Jupiter 8.

Dave Smith seems to understand this.The Prophet 08 has, for the most part, a knob per function. Those that are multifunction are fairly tolerable, like using a physical switch to change which LFO or modulation routing you're editing. More importantly, the Prophet 08 offers something the Neuron, Origin, and Solaris don't have: a reason to be hardware. Real analog.



As soon as you leave the land of a dedicated knob per function, you might as well go totally software because paying thousands of dollars for the privilege of editing parameters with an alphanumeric display and LCD menus isn't progress.

It reminds me of the advent of controller surfaces for DAWs. Moving faders - awesome. Rotary encoders with LED indicators for pan - super! Using the same encoders for channel sends - I can understand that. Editing effects via rotary encoders under an alphanumeric LCD display... cool... um... wait... actually, this sucks. First, put the channel in focus. Then, use the knob to select which insert you want to edit. Commit. Use the bank buttons to scroll through the available parameters until you see 'LoMSF' which is an abbreviation for something... at this point, I've forgotten what I was doing.

A lot has been said about the deficiencies of a mouse and screen interface. You can only edit one parameter at a time, for example. However, a physical interface must be demonstrably better, especially at 10x the price. When I'm editing an EQ on a screen, I can get at it very quickly. I don't need to go though levels of menus and commitments before I access the parameter I want to edit. Most importantly, a high resolution screen provides much more useful visual feedback versus an abbreviated parameter name coupled to its value. I can display the EQ curve, waveform shapes, spectra, all kinds of useful information.

I believe any new developments in digital synthesis will occur in software. If you're going to make hardware, it should be analog, or have a user interface with a fixed knob per function. I'm excited to see such fascinating developments in synthesis, and I want nothing more than for Arturia and John Bowen/Sonic Core to prove me wrong and sell huge numbers of these products. I think what they've accomplished is truly amazing and inspirational.

Plan B Relocates, Sells Direct

It seems like just last year we were waiting for months while Noisebug and Analogue Haven relaunched their independent selves. I'm not one to quote press releases, but I haven't seen this covered elsewhere, so here it goes. Plan B is 'all grow'd up' and moving back to LA. They also seem to be selling 'direct' to US customers if I understand the press release correctly.

POMONA, CA. Coming from a successful show at this year's Winter Namm where a series of new products were cast onto our near horizon, effective March 1 Electro-Acoustic Research and Plan B will be returning to the Los Angeles metropolitan area and with that reopening the PLAN B DIRECT sales portal at www.ear-group.net. Before and after this launch our products will continue to be available at a number of dealerships both domestically and abroad and a list of those dealers will be updated on our site in the coming days.

I need to stress that this decision had everything to do with business and nothing to do with our successful and strong relationship with Noisebug, a partnership which bore immeasurable growth during it's tenure and one which I hope will continue in the future. It isn't about that. It's about Plan B this month entering it's fifth year. We're all grow'd up now...and it's time to stand on our own.

Look for a PLAN B DIRECT update early next week on the purchase tab at http://www.ear.group.net. Only products currently in our finished goods will be included. For those not listed, links will be provided giving immediate access to dealerships currently stocking products which may not be available at PLAN B DIRECT at any given time.

As always, I look forward to the future, to sharing your experiences with our products and the art created with them. On behalf of Sam Hernandez, Kateri Lirio, Dylan Sang and Brian McKinnon, I thank you for your continued support.

25 Years of Macintosh

As the various articles looking back at 25 years of Macintosh history flood the tubes, I thought I'd offer my personal experience of how the Mac shaped my life.

My first Mac was a Lisa in 1983. Using the Lisa was like touching the future. I'd never seen anything like it before. The user interface was so futuristic - as if the designers looked ahead to the next generation of computer operating systems, then looked way beyond that. Computers at the time all had green or amber phosphorus screens with 80 character displays. A graphical user interface on hi-res black and white screen was beyond extraordinary.

We had the Lisa for a short time before it was quickly replaced by the original 128k Macintosh when it was introduced. It wasn't long before I was a member of the local Macintosh User's Group. I wasn't old enough to drive, so I grabbed a ride to the meetings with a sympathetic Mac friend. The meetings were held at a local Apple retail store called Computer Emporium. In the back, a budding software company was creating interesting utilities for the Mac. This company would later be known as CE Software. Gil Beecher and Don Brown didn't seem to mind answering annoying questions from a 14-year old.



It was at these meetings that we discussed the latest developments for the Macintosh like the clever Thunderscan which turned your ImageWriter printer into a scanner and the Hyperdrive internal hard drive which clipped directly onto the Mac's CPU, bypassing the slow serial ports as SCSI ports didn't exist yet.

I quickly developed a Macintosh-seeped graphical sense, starting with MacPaint - a skill set that earned me money even before leaving high school. I also spent a lot of time online with the Mac. Before Red Ryder, the only terminal program I had access to was a Microsoft Basic application that I typed in from an early MacWorld Magazine. Everyone was jelous of my 1200 baud modem.

The thing I'll remember the most about these early days was spending hours and hours composing music with MusicWorks. Dragging notes gets tiresome, but copy and paste is easy and one could transpose and offset melodic phrases until the resulting harmony sounded interesting, or, at least, not cacophonous.

Another fun utility came out around 1986 - an 8-bit analog to digital convertor that plugged into the serial port. In addition to providing a sampling input for Studio Session, which I graduated to after MusicWorks, it provided a real time audio delay effect that used the Mac's memory - with infinite regeneration. This was tremendous fun and provided my first access to a limited form of sound on sound recording.

Somehow I managed to get accepted to Berklee College of Music in Boston. Using the recordings and printed music I generated with my Mac, I managed to secure a scholarship as well. The same Mac, upgraded to 512k and Mac Plus ROMs, followed me to Berklee. I got a job at a Macintosh typesetting place for living expenses, starting a dual graphical/music focus that continues to this day.

OK, fast forward a dozen years or so.

I've been on the Apple campus once. I was sent to do a demo for, the Final Cut group in 'the Piano Bar'. We had a Genelec surround system sent directly to our contact at Apple and I loaded this on a huge cart along with other hardware and my Warr Guitar strapped to my back. We 'booked' the room so we were sure it would be abandoned, including the allocated setup time. So, I come crashing into the room with the cart *KERBLAM* and I see a group of five people talking at a table in the back.

Our Apple contact says, "We should, uh, get out of here." I shrug and follow him out. He and the other MOTU guy leave to go do something and I'm sitting outside the piano room by myself. Moments later four, ashen Apple employees scurry out of the room followed by a scruffy unshaven fellow with torn jeans. He surveys the outside area, purposely finds and walks towards me, the person who burst in on his private meeting like a herd of buffalo.

He holds out his hand and says, "Hi. I'm Steve."

Despite my long history with the Mac, I'm not a irrational fanboy, nor do I worship Steve Jobs. But, it is clear to me the Mac had a profound influence on my life - to the degree that I don't know what I'd be doing today if it were not for Steve Jobs.

I reply, "Hey."

Smooth.

So, I'd like to take a moment and thank all the brilliant people who developed the original Macintosh, like Andy Hertzfield, Bill Atkinson, Burrell Smith, Jef Raskin, and Steve Jobs. I'd also like to thank the local enthusiastic and dedicated users from the early days who shared their expertise and knowledge with a dumb kid.

Hearing Voices

What is the 'voice' of a synthesizer? I'm not talking about 'polyphony-voices' or patch memory, I'm talking about the signature sound produced by a synthesizer that makes it desirable. The JP-8 might be known for the sound of its plucky arpeggiator, the PPG 2.3 for early wavetable grit, the minimoog for fat basses, and so on.

Does this describe the entirety of what the instrument is capable of? Of course not. The voice of a synthesizer comes from the musically useful sounds that arise most naturally from the user interface and internal architecture. These are the sounds that are both rewarding and easily-attainable.

You're not going to make a minimoog sound like a sampled piano, but within the sphere of analog subtractive, there is quite a lot of overlap. The Jupiter 8, Andromeda and Prophet-5 are all polyphonic subtractive analogs, so it stands to reason that they'll cover a lot of the same ground. So why own multiple polyphonic analog synths? How much their sound differs can be attributed to a large extent by their voice. Typically, the argument for wanting a vintage instrument is due to the sound it produces. Most vintage analogs are subtractive synths that more or less share the same topology, so we're discussing a fairly small spectrum of variation among a subset of synthesizers.

By comparison, older synths are very limited compared to synths produced today. It is quite easy to add features to software. More options equals more flexibility. It also makes the product more difficult to use. By their limited nature, simpler instruments have wider sweet spots. These are instruments that seem very difficult to get a bad sound on. More complex instruments may offer deeper programming, but this also narrows the sweet spot considerably.



In my opinion, the Jupiter 8 represents a synthesizer with a huge sweet spot. It is difficult to make an unpleasant sound, and I think this is one of the contributing factors to its enduring popularity. One instrument that springs to mind when I think about problems with the sweet spot is the Andromeda.

The Andromeda suffers from a narrow sweet spot. It is a flexible, extremely well-specified instrument, with a generous physical UI. On paper, it should own any other analog polysynth. However, there seems to be a sizable contingent who simply can't 'get' the Andromeda. Those that know and love the instrument and can counter any complaints about its sound and capabilities. However, these people know the A6's tricks. They're intimate with the peculiarities of the instrument. They've spent time probing its depths. They also understand the synthesis behind the engine and can apply it.

The instrument can ultimately DO 'xyz', but it will take some time and digging. On one hand, you could look at this as commitment - you must invest yourself if you're going to get anything of value. (I agree with this) On the other hand, this could be viewed as a workflow issue. Endless possibilities are one thing, but if accessing those possibilities is painful, they might as well not be there at all. (I agree with this, too) The DSI Evolver could easily replicate a class of modular patches, but I didn't find the interface particularly inviting, so I ended up not using it.

It used to be potential was all it took to excite me. Possibilities. As I've grown older, and my available play time shrinks, I'm valuing the shortest point from A to B more. So why use a modular? That is a subject for another blog post.

PEMF S01E01 Video

I love the 808 reverse 'boomerang' effect. I find the video inspirational as it provides a unique glimpse inside the creative process of a project in progress. Plus, tons of amazing monome techniques and ideas, in a real-world context.

Volta Blog

Volta has its very own blog. Follow the latest developments here.

Ableton NAMM News

Ableton continues to innovate. Live 8 is packed with useful features and that would be enough news for one show, but the Cycling 74 partnership blossoms and the Akai APC40 includes some monomeesque overtones. Maybe they should have saved something for messe.

Live 8


Max for Live


The Akai APC40

MOTU BPM

If you're into embedded videos, this will get you up to speed on BPM. We worked on this video far too long. Awesome voiceover work by primusluta, whom I met inside the monome community.

monome 128s go on sale Jan 9th

Need a monome 128? Don't go to ebay. Buy direct from monome where your purchase directly supports the creators of this fantastic interface. At 1pm EST go to monome.org and place an order. Promptness matters.

Pro tip: create a google checkout account ahead of time if you have not done so already. If you don't, by the time you complete your order, the series may sell out.

Good luck!

How close is close enough?

There is a lot of great analog synth gear being made today. In our post-Ebay world of sky-high prices for finnicky vintage synths, this is wonderful news. In fact, there are more manufacturers making modulars since... ever? You may not be able to afford a complete Moog modular, but you can build a Eurorack system slowly a module at a time.

This addresses the matter of workflow, but what about sound? Can you clone the sound of a particular piece of gear with new engineering? How close can you get to the sound of a specific vintage synth? Of course, this issue isn't the sole province of synth nerds. Guitarists have their own brand of fascination with vintage gear and modern recreations right down to matched NOS transistors, and I'm sure it doesn't stop there. Pick any industry. But, let's get back to synthesizers.



To summarize, there are those that say you can clone the sound of a vintage instrument, or get 'close enough' and there are those for whom only the original will suffice. The issue of recreating the sound of something is complicated by issues of workflow and goals and these are admittedly inseparable depending on the context of the argument. By workflow, I mean, "How critical is recreating the sound of something tied to the manner of evoking the sound?" By goals, I mean, "Who do you need to convince that this is the real deal and why does it matter?"

For the sake of argument, let's say you recreated the sound of a Yamaha CS-80 EXACTLY. How useful is that sound if you're not playing a controller with polyphonic aftertouch, a ribbon controller and a full surface festooned with dozens of the unique silky levered faders? What if your goal was to create some acid techno? Will your track be a failure because you used a x0xb0x instead of a TB-303? Does anyone really care?

If we've convinced ourselves that we're really talking about the sound and nothing but the sound, we have to remove the issues of workflow and goals from reality and create this artificial laboratory and create a double blind test. This is were these sort of debates tend to lead to, anyway. This is the predictable result of someone issuing some moronic absolute statement about how the a modern piece of gear completely misses/nails the sound of the XQJ-37 Pan-Sexual Roto-Plooker. Someone else responds 'prove it' and we're off.

In hobby-robotics, I've often come across how a particular creation executes its goals in an artificially-created environment. If you were to ask the same thing in a randomly-selected real-world environment, it wouldn't fare so well. In other words, the parameters of the test can be gamed to produce a desired outcome, and these artificial environments don't really mean a whole lot in real-world usefulness. I believe how you relate to an instrument is far more important than any subtle differences in sound that can only be exposed under laboratory conditions.

I wish people put the same level of time, passion and effort into their music as they do these meaningless debates.

That said, I'd totally buy a Roland System 100 filter clone if someone built one.