Jaaaa…. kann. man. so. machen.
Trying to reattach a synth keyboard contact mat after cleaning? Quick tip: Use a needle. pic.twitter.com/tpdbPKpErI
— Untergeek (@untergeekDE) 28. Februar 2015
(*) Ich mag diese Szene: Heinz Becker bedankt sich bei einem hilfsbereiten Baumarkt-Mitarbeiter für den guten Tipp, die gekauften Latten doch zersägen zu lassen, bevor er sie ins Auto packt.
Actually, this is not about kittens. It’s about renewing the display backlight of an E-MU ESI-32 sampler. Which is quite easy to do if you beware… nah. It is actually quite easy.
The ESI-32, a 16-bit, 32-voice stereo sampler, is from a cache of music machines stored away in a basement for more than 12 years and which I am helping to restore. I used to own an ESI-4000, so I already knew about its internals. This one suffered from a half-dead display backlight so I decided to replace it.
Continue reading
Let’s start with some good news: Jenny‘s here to stay with me, so I can start some serious modding. The single VCO and the filter design make it hard for her to growl credibly, so I tried to make her bark and her bite a bit tougher, using bits and gates from my basement supplies: adding a sub-oscillator, and pre-filter overdrive.
The sub-oscillator is simple and has been done by many great modders: You add a divider circuit to produce a one-octave (or two-octave) square-wave sub-oscillator and feed the signal to the unused “Off” terminal of the noise selector switch (over a 100k resistor so that the sub-osc signal is not overly loud). So now when the noise generators are switched off you can use the noise dial to add some deepness.
Have a look at this picture.
Do you like what you see? Of course you do.
Analog is cool. Prices for analog gear are consistently going up. Just when processing power, sophisticated audio algorithms and smooth user interfaces have become ubiquitous, manufacturers have started developing and selling new analog synth hardware. Yes, I know: Analog sounds different, you say. Tell you what: I don’t believe it. Reminds me of those types who swore that golden CDs sounded better than the silver ones. It’s not the sound. Like I said: Analog is cool.
Just about thirty years ago, analog became uncool. Yamaha’s digital DX7 synth proved that digital was cheaper, more reliable, and more versatile than the old technology. Analog became harder and harder to sell, even in the discount variety that came without all the expensive knobs and switches, and one by one, the former giants went out of business: ARP. EMS. Oberheim. Moog. The whole Italian synth industry. Poof.
When did analog become fashionable again? The simple JEN synthesizer I am fixing and upgrading may provide an answer to this question. To be honest, there is quite a lot not to like about this machine. Single oscillator: tends to sound thin. Simple filter design: lacking bass punch and proper key tracking. Only one LFO with only one waveform (triangle). Portamento but no legato. Not to mention the no-brainers of modern (ie 1980s ff.) technology: preset memory, MIDI and USB interface, stable tuning.
On Sonicstate.com, there is a review page for the Jen SX-1000. Users may rate their synth from 0 to 5 points, 5 being the top rating. Taking these reviews, you can see the gradual change from fairly mixed reviews to an unanimously positive opinion.
Granted, there is a systematic bias: why should anybody who didn’t like analogs to begin with acquire and rate a Jen? Still, this graph shows one thing to me: The point where analogs became cool again was somewhere around 2001 to 2002.
Now we know when. If you’ve got the patience, let me argue why.
An Italian beauty, fallen on hard times – starting her career as a budget singer, forced out of business, living in a basement for more than a dozen years – and come to my house by accident. Now I am trying to get her back in shape – and to make her voice fuller than it has ever been. Her full name is JEN SX-1000 Synthetone, but she is affectionately known as Jenny.
Nice. New. Toy. Arturia’s Beatstep controller is a steal for 99 Euros – it just feels great. Large, solid pads, smooth, reassuring encoders. Did I mention there’s a 16-step sequencer included? And a CV/gate interface? Must-have. I sold my QuNexus for this.
Just like the QuNexus, it is an ideal extension for iPad music. And just like the QuNexus, Beatstep needs to be programmed via a controller program to work. At least Arturia had the common courtesy to include a Mac version of the controller software, still it is a nuisance for iPad users like me that they have to use a computer just because one key sends the wrong note and triggers the wrong event.
So I thought about building a small controller panel for TB Midi Stuff, the same app I used for my Matrix-1000 controller. A bit of work with the controller software and a MIDI monitor gave me what is needed for that: the Sysex codes to control the Beatstep’s behaviour. May be some time until I get round to building that panel, in the mean time there you are. You’ll find the very first version of my iPad Beatstep Tool for download in the TB Midi Stuff forum. No, don’t thank me, Arturia.
Anyway, here’s the MIDI command table for the Beatstep, in case you want to do your own programming.
V1.3, last update 10 November 2016, with lots of additional info by Richard Wanderlöf.
In the late 80s, I decided to spend serious money on my first serious synthesizer. Unfortunately, I did not have any money, so I started scouting the ads and mailing lists of lot sellers. There was this one company that, obviously, had good connections to the dying Italian synth industry, and I clearly remember the magnificent Elka Synthex on top of one of those leaflets, a true monster of an analog synth, somewhere on the path between “hopelessly old-fashioned” and “awed classic”, on sale for just over 3000 Deutsche Mark, if I remember it correctly.
I ended up spending 1500 Marks on another Italian Synth: The Keytek CTS-2000 from Siel, later bought by Gibson, even later bought by Roland just to close them down. [Update, 28-May-17: Interesting additional info about what became of Siel after the Keytek is to be found in the comment by microbug.]
1987 ad for the Keytek CTS-2000 via RetroSynthAds – linked
From today’s perspective, this machine was not much of an improvement over my previous means of sound generation, the Casio CZ-101, a digital synth with its very own character. But then, the CZ seemed unbearably cheap and nonsensical to me, with its small keyboard, and its four-voice limit. The CTS-2000, on the other hand, was an eight-voice affair with a proper, velocity-sensitive keyboard. And the technology! Sampled waves! Dynamic wave manipulation! Multitimbrality! Sliders for real-time parameter control! Six-stage envelope generators! And! Analog!! Filters!!!
A great concept. There was, to quote another classic from the era, just one tiny little flaw.
There were a few questionable decisions made in the design, as you can read here. It also lacked the processing power to do what it tried to achieve; its TMS-7002 brain was too weak. But the worst thing was: The synth sounded horrible. What I had hoped for was classic analog punch with a digital, modern twist. What I got was a dull third-rate ROMpler. One of the best sounds was no analog pad but a sampled ripoff of a DX-7 slap bass sound. Despite its analog filters, the sounds were thin and harsh, and even the metallic sounds did not shine but came across flat and dull. All high frequencies seemed to be missing.
I tried to make up for the lack of overtones by buying a small enhancer, a device meant to generating additional overtones, and it sort of helped with the piano sounds. But the overall sound remained disappointing, and later, I realised what the problem was: the output circuitry dulled down the sound. A crude and uninteresting low-pass filter removed all signs of life from the signal.
Thinking about it, this is due to the limited technology. When you work with samples, you get quantization noise – the difference between the original wave and the wave generated with, say, an 8-bit resolution. [EDIT: Thanks to a comment by Mikkel Karlsen I learned that the Keytek was built around two SGS M114A chips, digital oscillators based on wavetable ROM, and I suspect that they were used with the lowest possible resolutions of 16 steps per wave cycle, so you would actually get Q-noise three octaves above the pitch frequency of the wave.] Quantisation noise is noise with the frequency of the sample playback, meaning that with lower sampling frequencies, say, around 10kHz, you will get an audible hiss in the signal. But the feeble hardware is incapable of high sampling frequencies. Think of it as a permant, built-in bitcrusher.
The designer seem to have feared that noise, so they added the low-pass filter to the outputs. I actually quite liked it, so I removed a capacitor from the circuit and killed the filter. It sounded a lot better to me after that.
Still, the Keytek remained an uninspiring machine – and I was really glad to sell it and to move on to a really decent FM synth, the Casio VZ-1. (You see, I’ve got a soft spot for underdogs.) And all the analog warmth I’d ever need soon came from my Matrix-1000 – the one that only recently has undergone brain surgery.
I had all but forgotten the Keytek, but rediscovered it while doing a lot of research on the Matrix 1000’s peers, the generation eventually killed of by the DX-7 and the D-50: 8-bit machines with an analog heart like the Polysix or the Elka EK-22 (another machine that I could have ended up with, and that would have made me much, much happier). These machines keep intriguing me, and although there is quite a good argument to be made that they were closer to what we search in creating sounds – I urge you to read Bob Weigel’s thoughts on the age of Analog and how it ended – I guess it’s just nostalgia, a longing for the time when the world was great and the technology was a marvel.
So I’m remembering the Keytek with fondness and a lot of sympathy for its engineers. I would never take it back, though – even nostalgia has its undisputable limits.
Dremeling and ripping out the brain of a 25-year old vintage machine – I was so Frankenstein yesterday. Luckily, it worked, being the first step to a much improved Oberheim Matrix-1000 running with – at least – doubled system clock, and patched firmware. This takes up the work of Gligli who was the first to hack a faster CPU into the Matrix, and tries to take it one step further.
Hacking a vintage instrument – my favourite guitar player calls this cruelty. Yet there are good reasons to do it: As I’ve mentioned before, the Matrix’ CPU is actually too slow for what it tries to achieve, but the 8-bit 6809 chip could only be clocked to 2 MHz in its fastest version, and this is it.
So Gligli, a hacker from France known for his Prophet-600 firmware rewrite/retrofit, had the idea of using a 6309 CPU, a chip from the same era that, while maintaining drop-in compatibitily, offered faster instructions and could be overclocked to 4 MHz. So he replaced the CPU and the main oscillator, patched the firmware and – it worked.
Yet there are some issues with Gligli’s solution, in my humble opinion. The Matrix’ peripheral chips are designed to work at 2 MHz; by doubling the CPU clock, they have only half the time to read or write data to the bus. Not all of the hardware is up to this; Gligli’s solution is simply writing everything twice, and that seems to work, but it’s not very trustworthy.
So I’m planning to install a CPU with a custom clock generator that is using asymmetrical cycles to give the peripherals more time to read and write. (I’ll have to build in new oscillator circuitry anyway, as I happened to buy 63C09E CPUs, which rely on external clock generation.) And there’s always the possibility to go even further and replace the CPU by a modern programmable logic chip, an FPGA, that can be loaded with a 6809-compatible core clocked even higher and has proper slowing-down logic to interface the old hardware. More on that later, suffice it to say that I simply want my Matrix’s CPU in a socket. And be it only to be able to revert to the original chip.
Not there yet, but it’s in reach: An Aftertouch, e.g. channel pressure control, retrofit for the Korg R3 synth.
I really like the Korg R3. No, there’s more: I bought it second-hand out of very rational considerations, and ‘ve come to love it deeply. There are people who don’t like it for its plastic housing, for the limitations in comparison with its more expensive sibling, the Korg Radias, others hate it simply for not being a first-generation Microkorg. In my experience, it’s an excellent virtual analog synth capable of doing massive bass as well as very unusual pads. It’s versatile, it’s compact, it’s cheap, and it sounds great. And unlike the Microkorg, it’s got a proper keyboard, albeit without aftertouch.
For some reason, the MIDI Thru jack in my R3 stopped working today, which is bothersome, but also a welcome excuse to open the R3’s housing and take a look inside. I had this idea of equipping it with an aftertouch sensor for even more variation and liveliness in playing. And now I’m confident it would work, although I won’t be able to do the mod for some time. Continue reading
Look: My little old Behringer Eurorack MX1604A mixing console has four insert jacks now, just what you need for a four-channel compressor. After a day spent with sick kids, a little soldering and drilling felt just right.
I have been shopping on eBay. Looking for a reverb to go with my rediscovered Oberheim Matrix synth, I acquired a rack containing a Lexicon MX, and a four-channel compressor. Lucky me.
This is when I noted that my mixer has no inserts.
Well, I fixed it. Took me about 3 hours. You need: 4 6.3mm stereo jacks, shielded 3-wire cables, soldering iron and being prepared to use it, a 12mm steel drill.