The Moog Mother 32 is a machine that seems able to insist on the turning of its frequency dial. “Sweep me up and down”, “mouth my frequency”. Resist, resist.
Other notable machines that cause similar traits of insiting on how they are used, are iconic machines such as the TB-303, TR-909, TR-808 the SH-101 and the list goes on.
The Moog world of synthesis is one that I have had little experience or interest in when coming to my own music making. This is arguably due to never having used a Moog, or perhaps being able to afford anything branding the Moog logo. So when Moog began presenting a more affordable range of synthesizers, it’s not unreasonable to think my interest would grow. It didn’t.
When Moog annouced their Moog Mother 32, presenting a collection of beautiful demonstrations, something changed.
I am still working out what exactly changed for me from not being interested to owning a Mother 32, but I believe it is based on those key decisions made by a company in the production and marketing of a synth. The videos linked above are one such example, but also what specifically is on offer, how much or in my case, how little are aspects that I think sway me to click buy, or my wife to click buy as in the case of the Mothers :)
The Moog Mother 32 has just enough patching and sonic capabilities to keep you wanting more, and ensures a level of statisfaction that makes it both a joy and a challenge to work with.
The sequencer, although not immediately intuiative for a lazy type like me, does begin to make sense the more you play. Although the manual is incredibly clear, it’s playing that really helps with almost every aspect of this synth.
Today’s upload was a result of lots of exporation before settling on something very basic, tweaking that frequency dial like it wants me to. Although it could have easily gone into screaming frequency sweeping… that ain’t my thing. Manic frequency dial tweaking always sounds like lead guitarist solo-syndrome to me, and that’s not good or everyone except the man in the mirror.
Today’s upload is from the Kawai K1 running through some reverb on the DP4. The K1 might be a poor mans Korg M1 to some, but an amazing synth for anyone who has dug into the editing. Those waves are extreme.
I remember owning a Kawai K1 back when I was a kid, my older brother kindly gave it to me. I must have been barely in my early teens, and generally back then editing was pretty confusing. I understood some basics but rarely could understand what I had done when getting something good, which wasn’t often.
Much like most young kids with a keyboard at their finger-tips, I would spend most of my time playing it, mostly pads and repeated notes. I think even then John Carpenter was probably in my mind from enjoying various horror films I was lucky enough to watch with my older brother.
Alas, the synth didn’t stay long in my possession, mere weeks it seemed. It was replaced with an Amiga 500, again from my brother, who attempted to convince that this was always the deal. It wasn’t, but who was I to complain.
Today’s upload is subtle shifting bass and resonant pulsation coming from two Moog Mother 32’s.
After hours of patching and exploring ways in getting them synced, I ended up pulling out all the patch cords and creating something basic that simply sounded ok.
Complex patching or programming that sounds not nearly as interesting as it looks, is one of the biggest banes of modular synthesis and similar music making approaches. It is very easy to get lost in visual and conceptual complexity, and miss what sounds good.
There is the obvious desire to understand how something works, and the want to record something, but I find this is often based more out of a sense of acheivement, than it sounding good. Overtime I find that odd parts, abstract sounds, nothing substantial is recorded, and it becomes hard to recall or appreciate what has been learned over this time, possibly through the lack of not being able to listen back to good things.
To try and combat that feeling of slow pogress, or nothign to show when learning, I have been trying to remember to split my studio time into more parts, or at the very least be sure that in some form every part gets a slot. After long periods of time exerimenting, I find it’s worth recording something that is less a representation of what was being experimented with, and more something that is a result of studio time in general.
Overtime, recordings build up, tracks have been made, progress has been documented, without that feeling of nothing good to show for it.
Today’s upload is experimenting with patterns, drum sounds and fx, as much of what I do is. This one comes with a little bit of jamming on the desk, although only a small Mackie I am borrowing while I wait for the Soundcraft PSU to be fixed. The Mackie has dials instead of sliders, which I struggle with, but it’s yeilding some interesting results having limitations such as this.
The patterns are coming from Supercollider, which is driving the Akai sampler full of 808 sounds, and the 101 is used just for that extra bass kick. Fx are, as always, the DP4.
There isn’t much going on, and nor should there be honestly, but I did find something interesting while recording this, as is often the case, so hopefully it is interesting to hear how that all comes together.
Although I am still learning the role of mono-log and my uploads, one thing is for certain, it is constantly keeping me in check. It stands as a constant reminder to get into the studio and create more, and to do that I need to be rested, to eat well, to organise my day and prioritse.
It’s been exactly a week since I last managed to share an upload, and although in many ways this is not a major failing, the fact that a week has gone by without my creating something I feel I want to share, really bugs the hell out of me.
Part of the annoyance is allowing things to get in the way, that brain illness that spreads deep into the mind that changes perspective, changes sound, changes direction, changes focus.
I don’t think I have had the pleasure to meet someone who actually gets visibly agitated if not spending time making music, although I do remember reading artists when on long tours get crazy, always performing and never creating.
I have yet to really understand this fully, if that is at all possible, but can only relate it to something like eating or sleeping. The body eventually puts its hands up and says “food, sleep, now!”. Interestingly, I find food is something I forget about when in the studio until borderline dizzy, and sleep is something that always gets priority over studio time. I need to be fully rested or I simply can’t be bothered to do anything, and I find not being able to do anything really frustrating.
Today’s upload is something I found while stumbling through some archives while in the studio today. I recall this was made during my time trying to recreate a famous acid line in an early Plastikman track, and combining it in feel to another artist I was influenced by back in the early to mid 90’s, none other than Aphex Twin, who, it has to be said, rarely gets mentioned on here.
Given his recent release, a result of digging through his own archives (lazy bastard), it seems fitting to do the same.
On a side note, if you have yet to watch his latest video filmed in Dublin, Ireland, do check it out, certainly one for fans of Shane Meadows or perhaps Mike Leigh.
Some very late night coding with Supercollider after many failed attempts to get into the studio and then my mixer power supply died. Still, it’s a reason to try something in the laptop.
All the sounds are created and sequenced in Supercollider, quite the software once you get the hang of it.
More experimenting with Supercollider using some old sample from the early 00’s. I created this after listening to Chris Coode as Recon earlier today. I have always loved his music, both as Recon and Motion.
Where are you Chris?