Why analog synths?
If you ask most analog synth enthusiasts, their first response will likely be ‘the sound.’ Not me. Okay. Maybe a little. There are certain undeniable characteristics of the analog synth sound, particularly when you are experiencing it first hand, but by the time it is mixed, processed, used in context, etc, I doubt most analog purists could tell the difference between analog or virtual analog. While we are on the subject of personal biases, let me also state that I prefer digital recording for the way I work and I have yet to hear a convincing demonstration of the benefits of 96kHz (or more) sampling. Furthermore, anyone who really gets hung up about this stuff really needs to get out more often.

My personal journey with analog synths began innocently enough. I purchased an Access Virus virtual analog because I was doing a lot of corporate work which demanded that I be able to quickly reproduce the trendy ‘car commercial’ sound. I can make my other synths emulate this sound, but this takes time and it would be so much quicker to grab a knob and go. When creating works for hire, I just want to be finished, so I can get on with stuff I want to do. I chose the Virus because it also had external inputs so I could process signals as well as a vocoder which I knew I would find useful for processing drum loops and other sounds.

At this point, I had the knobs and, more or less, I had the sounds of an analog subtractive synth in a compact, reliable package. End of story, right? Well, not really. The Virus turned out to be perfect for the original reason I purchased it, but attempting to emulate the sound of a Prophet 5 left me cold. I've wanted a Prophet 5 for as long as I can remember the word 'synthesizer'. I wanted to be the protector of a practical, useful piece of history. I loved the way the Prophet 5 looked; especially the wood. A musical instrument really should possess some element from the earth. The advent of hard disk recording with reasonable time manipulation (stretching, compressing) made the acquisition of vintage, temperamental, analog polysynth a slightly less insane proposition.

So now I own a Prophet 5 and a Memorymoog. Slightly redundant, but I love them both dearly. I hope to pass them on to my children some day, assuming the ICs have not croaked by then. I can't say the same thing about my Kurzweil K2500 or Roland JV1080. These mass produced sound generators are being rendered obsolete by software virtual instruments. They will exist as bulky boxes with clumsy user interfaces that no one will want to have anything to do with. A digital instrument can be emulated exactly in software (for example, Native Instruments FM7). An analog instrument can only be simulated.

If you want a powerful, flexible, reliable analog polysynth, then I'd suggest a new Alesis Andromeda. In fact, you should buy an Andromeda anyway, because the Andromeda will stand as one of the most powerful analog polys ever made. When they are no longer in production, and that day will someday come, they will be regarded as collectors items and there will be a finite number of them in the world. Supply and demand.

Why a modular synth?

Modular synths are synthesizer legos. To me, the real beauty of modular synths is not the analog content, but the practice of voltage control. If you've read this far, it should be fairly clear to you that interaction or user interface is more important to me than subtle nuances of sound quality that only an analog purist would appreciate when examined under a bright light. I find the standard of voltage control to be easier to work with than assigning MIDI control surfaces or manipulating simulations of patch cords.

Before I had Moe, (the A100), I used my racks as a sort of modular signal processor. For example, I was not using my Drawmer DS201 as a gate, but as a triggered VCA via the sidechain inputs. I would create nasty, strange chains of processing with my patch bay. A modular synth is the logical extension of this practice.

I was asked recently if I used the modular to make synth sounds that I would play. In general, no. If I want to play an analog subtractive synth, I'll fire up my Prophet 5 or Memorymoog. They cover 95% of what I would want to play. Furthermore, the sound of the Memorymoog, particularly the filter, puts the A100 to shame (and I have three flavors of filters on Moe!) It would have to be very specialized for me to want to construct an instrument on the modular.
* I prefer the term ‘patchable’ for all-in-one synths that can be re-patched with patch cords such as the Korg MS series or the Arp 2600. I reserve the term ‘modular’ for systems that consist of a rack with powersupply that can be populated with patchable modules. If you cant remove or add a module, it ain't modular. My apologies for this pedantic outburst.

I'm not a purist. I don't have any desire to prove what kinds of strange sounds I can make using a modular in isolation. Often I'll encounter posts on analogue heaven such as: "Listen to this patch I made! No human interaction" Yawn. Use it in context where I'm moved emotionally and I'll be impressed.

It is more fun to use a modular than it is to listen to one. I want to have fun. I want to use my hands to create sound. I want to trace cables and reach for knobs. I know from experience that this process is rewarding and useful to me because I'm more likely to take the time to construct a patch if it is right there in front of me. I even enjoy the fleeting nature of a modular patch, and the deconstructionist impulse of wiping it out. Virtual modulars have their place, I'll use Reaktor to create specialized instruments for live use, or to create sounds that I simply can't on the A100. So, to summarize, I own a modular to manipulate audio for personal use or for sample CDs, and to have fun.

The Story of Moe
At this time of this writing, I believe we are experiencing a second golden age of modular synths. There are at least half a dozen major modular lines to choose from. Choosing which modular is a matter of heated debate by people who take this subject way too seriously and/or personally. Of course, you don't have to limit yourself to a single manufacturer, but practically, you really do choose a 'core' system.

I acquired the bulk of Moe via two separate Doepfer A100 purchases on ebay in Germany. Because it was used, it was much cheaper, and because it was in Germany, it was cheaper still because the dollar was strong and the cost was not inflated by going through an international distributor. The money spent on an equivalent system purchased new from a domestic manufacturer would buy me a reliable car.

Some people do not care for the Doepfer A100 because of the 1/8" jacks and the cramped size of the modules. Personally, I find the smaller form factor a plus because real estate in my studio is at a premium. The compressed layout does not bother me. The reliability of 1/8" jacks is not an issue because I have not had a single one fail on me and if it did, I can easily replace it.

The things I really like about the A100 are the broad choice of modules – more than any other manufacturer – and the price, which is a fraction of everything else (pre built). There is also a larger installed base of A100s versus everything else, so I feel the manufacturer will be around for a while.

There is one thing about the Doepfer I don't care for: it is ugly. This may be the deciding factor for many people, but they just won't admit it. Part of the appeal of a modular system is the visceral impact of a dark wall of knobs. I believe this sells more MOTM than any single factor, but the rhetoric manifests itself as an overzealous attack on 1/8" jacks and small knobs.

"I've been called ugly, pud-ugly, fugly, pud-fugly - but never ugly-ugly." - Moe Syslack It seemed natural that I should name my modular Moe. Moe Modular. 1) Because it is ugly. 2) Because when you take the plunge into modulardom, you want more. More everything. Beware! Modulars are addictive.

Like most modulars, mine is a work in progress and I am gradually grafting new components onto it when I spot a good deal. In the past, you purchase a synthesizer and you're done. Modulars evolve over time and their personality changes each time you add a component. I've augmented Moe with a modest assortment of Blacet modules and two Frostwave Fat Controller sequencers.

Normally, one associates 'Sequencer' with the act of sequencing note data. Analog sequencers can, of course, sequence notes, but I find the process ill suited with todays technology. If I'm going to string specific notes together on my modular, I'll use a MIDI-CV interface and Digital Performer. The Fat Controller is used to generate interesting control voltages. I can synchronize the Fat Controllers to MIDI and they can loop independently. I have two so the loop lengths of each Fat Controller can beat against each other. One can be in 4/4 and the other can chug along in 7/8, creating fascinating polyrhythms.

I've said that the personality of a modular changes when you add a module. This is an understatement when you add a sequencer. Everything changes. An entirely new creative dimension opens. A sequencer is the glue that fuses a collection of modules into a single, unique entity. Even the smallest, most humble collection of modules can benefit from a sequencer. I like the Fat Controllers because they work flawlessly, they're relatively inexpensive, and they don't take up room in the modular chassis.

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