Sound feels like the final frontier. Invisible frequencies that vibrate at different rates determine the pitch and quality of what we’re hearing. Throughout history, we’ve made music from pulling strings tight enough to hit specific vibrations, we’ve blown into valves, and hit large objects to create the vibrations that sound just right for the situation.

Then, somewhere along the line, we discovered how to make the same frequencies using voltage, and for some reason voltage controlled sound just tickles the neuron activation region of my brain in a way that nothing else seems to. This is all a very roundabout way of saying that I really like synthesizers – the things that can make sounds ranging from the worst trumpet you’ve ever heard to the most lush, ethereal soundscape that can instantly sweep you away from your current reality.

Synthesized sound feels infinite, if an infinite range of sound actually exists. It sparks my imagination like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. At the risk of sounding extremely corny, sound feels like the closest thing to magic that we have — that and getting a USB cable into its port on the first try.
Since the pandemic started, we’ve seen a massive uptick in the amount of people we know getting into niche hobbies, exploring interests they had never considered before, and baking bread. Some people got a little too into waiting at the card aisle at Target to bombard the employee who has unfortunately been chosen to bring out the cart of freshly delivered Pokemon cards. I’m the friend that got a little too into synthesizers, and recently I made the financially devastating decision to build my own modular synthesizer.

In the music world, synthesizers are a relatively niche interest, but modular synths are a niche interest inside of a niche interest. Anyone familiar with the modular world will tell you right away that it’s obnoxiously expensive, massively inefficient, filled with elitists, and an addictive substance that will force you to take out a mortgage to fund a (beautiful) monstrosity that looks like this.

All of which would be true.

Basically, a modular synthesizer is just a synth that’s comprised of different parts that can be swapped out or rearranged. Your average synth has a few different components like oscillators, envelope generators, and effects that are built in by default. In the case of a modular system, you start by getting a box and filling it with modules that each do one of these functions; the thing is, the modules are often made by mad scientists who experiment with making these otherwise standard functions as experimental and unique as possible. The entire process is initially intimidating because there’s a chance that you’ll spend a lot of time and money and end up with an instrument that is essentially useless; to some extent — you can’t go into this thing with a bunch of random modules and hope it all works out.

For me, it all started with a Moog semi-modular synthesizer called the Subharmonicon — a little machine that was being heavily promoted by all of the content creators on SynthTube, which is the side of the internet where music influencers receive expensive music gear from brands and create demos in an attempt to convince us — the lowly consumers — to buy them. I may sound a bit facetious in the above description, but in reality there are countless talented artists eliminating their day jobs by creating videos that spread their love of electronic music. This, in and of itself, is a beautiful thing and restores a bit of my faith in humanity. However, like most things on the internet, there is a bit of a dark side (and that dark side is, of course, capitalism). This whole SynthTube thing is part of a much larger discussion that I could probably write a dissertation on, given my conflicting feelings on the subject. That being said, I have certainly been influenced to buy cool music gear a few more times than I’d like to admit.

Tangent aside, let’s continue, shall we?

Once I had explored the Subharmonicon to my heart’s content, I had to find more buddies to pair it with — I had to design my own modular synth that could connect with my Moogs (I also purchased a Mother-32 by this point). So I ordered a custom case and started my little orange box:

Initially, I set out to make a synth for ambient music. I wanted to use it to make spacey soundscapes with pretty chimes and soft sine waves. I also wanted to craft any other weird sounds that my circuit-wired brain could come up with.

The unexpected outcome of all this is that I discovered something I didn’t know existed: synthesizer therapy. Because of the dense nature of a modular synth, it is the last tool you want to use when trying to be “productive” or when trying to finish a track in a timely manner. It’s just as easy to find a sound as it is to lose it; on top of that, there’s no preset bank or any way to save sounds. With that in mind, trying to use a modular synth in a music production workflow is much more complicated than using any other instrument — it can be infuriating. That’s why the real value in this type of synth comes from patience, exploration, and to some extent, divine intervention.

I have spent countless hours turning knobs, plugging in cables, and slowly feeling the sounds and vibrations change gradually. There’s something mystical to it, something liberating — like painting without the desire of form. This form of exploration completely transports you into an abstract headspace that can also feel spiritual. This entire process has helped me realize the extent I am completely chained to the concept of productivity; the farther we get in our careers or our creative journeys, the more pressure we place upon ourselves. We eventually get to the point where we can no longer appreciate what we’re creating in its purest form.

I’m not making music, I’m just making sound. Sometimes it sounds wonderful, and often times it sounds like an orchestra of farts.

Of course, there is a way to make a modular synthesizer more “usable,” and that’s by investing a bunch of money into a powerful modules that can become the centerpiece of a studio or a live setup. I don’t think I’ll ever get to that point unless I jump up a few tax brackets.

As of right now, my first year of using a modular synthesizer has been a welcome break from my standard approach to music. Although I’ve gotten way too carried away with this hobby, it has brought enrichment to my life in a time where I desperately needed it. This is true of all “pandemic hobbies,” I think. It’s the wonderful thing about sitting at home. Even if things are grim outside, we can always discover some kind of activity to remind ourselves that we’re okay in the present moment, and things will get better soon.

All I wanted was to make some cute ambient music. In theory, I could have done that with a piece of tin foil and a rock. My credit card statement, on the other hand, does not reflect the price of a rock and some tin foil.

—7/13/2021

Modular World

RE: Happenstance

Pictures of Happenstance