Roland Jupiter 80

Reviews : Keyboard

Performance Synthesizer

The Jupiter 8 looms large in synthesizer history, and any synth bearing the name has a lot to live up to. Is the Jupiter 80 destined for the same legendary status? Find out in our world‑exclusive review...

Gordon Reid

I have friends who have been waiting nearly three decades for a successor to the Roland Jupiter 8. Their hearts went all a‑flutter when 1991’s JD800 was announced but, while this is now a minor classic in its own right, it wasn’t what they had envisaged. They went through the same set of emotions when the JP8000 appeared in 1997, only to be disappointed again. But now there’s a synth that says to the world, “Let there be no confusion; I am a Roland Jupiter”. Launched amid a flurry of speculation, praise and diatribes in equal measure from people who had never been within 100 miles of one, let alone heard one, it’s the Jupiter 80.

Physically, it’s somewhat larger and heavier than Roland’s most recent and now discontinued 76‑note workstation, the Fantom G7. Its colourful control panel is reminiscent of a Jupiter 8, but only in a superficial way, and it’s clear even before switching it on that most of the action is going to take place on the 800 x 480-pixel touchscreen that dominates its control panel. The touchscreen is good news; I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve poked a Fantom’s display in the expectation that something will happen.

The Jupiter 80 generates its sounds using the Supernatural technology first heard on the ARX boards introduced for the Fantom G series, married to a significantly cut‑down version of the APS (Articulative Phrase Synthesis) technology found in the V‑Synth GT. However, despite the justified clamour from Fantom owners, there are only three ARX boards (one each for drums, electric pianos and brass), and the set of polyphonic APS sounds in the Jupiter 80 does not overlap fully with the APS sources and Phrase Models in the GT, so it’s clear from the outset that the new synth is not simply a mélange of existing engines presented in a colourful new box.

What’s even more apparent is that the Jupiter 80 is not based on any conventional synth architecture, because it eschews the conventional patch and performance structures that have dominated synth architectures for the past 20 years or so. The lowest level (or so Roland claims) is the ‘Tone’, and there are two distinct Tone generators: Supernatural Acoustic (which, confusingly, also contains the APS sounds) and Supernatural Synth. The next level up is the ‘Live Set’, which can comprise up to four Tones in ‘Layers’. The top level is the ‘Registration’, which comprises four ‘Parts’: a single Tone in the Perc Part, a Live Set in the Lower Part, another Live Set in the Upper Part, and another Tone in the Solo Part. Confused? I’m not surprised; so was I. But I have to admit that, by the end of the review, I found it simple to use, if rather unusual.

Tones

Resemblance to its ancestor aside, the Jupiter 80’s large, colourful buttons and simple control panel make it especially useful for live performance.

Let’s start at the lowest level and look at the Supernatural Acoustic Tones. There are 117 of these, divided into categories such as pianos, basses, strings, guitars, and so on. A closer look shows that some sounds are presented in two versions, with the second prefixed by the letters ‘APS’. Consequently, you have (for example) 0062:Oboe and 0104:APS Oboe, both of which sound like oboes but nevertheless sound quite different from one another. There’s nothing to worry about here, although Roland seem to have got themselves into a bit of a semantic tangle when combining the Supernatural and APS technologies, because the literature also talks about something called Behavior Modeling Technology (the company’s spellings, not mine) which, like APS, also claims to emulate the behaviour of a given instrument when you play its physical model. Are APS and BMT components of Supernatural Acoustic, or is Supernatural Acoustic the initial sound generator and are APS and BMT independent performance modifiers? Or is APS a component of BMT? Who shot JFK? Damned if I know!

So let’s turn to Supernatural Synth, where things should be simpler. Except that they’re not. Indeed, I found the Synth mightily confusing until I realised that Roland’s claim that the Tone is the lowest level of sound creation is wrong. I initially approached Supernatural Synth on that basis, but I got myself into a tangle because I wasn’t differentiating between the controls that affect a Supernatural Synth Tone as a whole, and those that programme the three miniature synthesizers (‘Partials’) that comprise it.

A Partial is a powerful synthesizer in its own right. Its oscillator appears to offer eight waveforms, but the six analogue‑type waves each have three variants, and pulse width and PWM are programmable where appropriate. The depth of the Super Saw (the seventh option) is also programmable, while the eighth option allows you to select any one of 380 PCMs that include many of the underlying waveforms from earlier generations of Roland’s digital synths. There’s also a dedicated AD pitch envelope, a ring modulator between Partials 1 and 2, and a waveshaper that can act upon any of the resulting sounds, whether Virtual Analaogue or PCM digital. Similar flexibility is apparent when you turn to the multimode (low-pass, high‑pass, band-pass and peaking) filter with its 12dB/oct and 24dB/oct slopes, and to the amplifier. There are even two LFOs, one for conventional duties, and a second dedicated to the modulation joystick. This is all good stuff, and a polysynth built on three of these (ie. a single Supernatural Synth Tone) would be a very powerful instrument in its own right.

Live Sets

Largely eschewing the knobs and sliders of its forebear, the Jupiter 80’s synth engine is accessed mostly via the 800 x 480-pixel touchscreen.

Moving up a level, you can select any four Tones — whether generated by Supernatural Acoustic or Supernatural Synth — to insert into the four Layers in a Live Set. Strangely, this is also the level at which Tone editing (as opposed to Synth Partial editing) takes place, so before I can tell you about the facilities provided by the Live Set itself, I need to tell you about what it lets you do to the Tones that comprise it.

Let’s say that you want to layer a couple of Tones — one generated by Supernatural Acoustic and the other generated by Supernatural Synth — within a Live Set. To do so, you place the first in, say, Layer 1, and the second in, say, Layer 2 of the Set. (You have to do this when the Live Set is inserted within either the Upper or Lower Part of a Registration, but let’s ignore that for the moment.) Now let’s say that you want to edit the first of these Tones. Punching the appropriate Edit button reveals a handful of parameters that are relevant to the instrument in question, so, for example, the piano model offers control over string resonance, key-off resonance, hammer noise, stereo width, nuance and tone character, while the flutes offer noise level, growl sensitivity and ‘variation’, while the electric pianos offer just a single parameter: key-off noise. In contrast, the most complex of the models, the electric organ, is based on a Hammond generator with all nine drawbars, percussion, keyclick, leakage, and even subtleties such as the unusual behaviour of the 1‑foot drawbar correctly implemented. Frustratingly, there’s no user memory for edited Acoustic sounds, so you can only save the modified Tone within the Live Set in which you edited it. I can see that this saves memory but if, for example, I want to create and store a range of Honky Tonk pianos, I can’t do so except by using up Layers and Live Sets. Perhaps the reasoning was that there are so few parameters in a Supernatural Acoustic sound that any edits could be recreated elsewhere without too much hassle.

Moving across to Supernatural Synth, inserting a Tone into a Live Set provides what looks like a complete set of synthesis parameters in addition to those found at the Partial level. However, these are not absolute, they are modifiers that override some of the values in the Partials (such as switching the filter type to a new setting) or provide offsets that affect the Partials’ values. This is a weird architecture. The system is, in effect, treating the Partials as an ‘expert’ level, allowing novice users to regard Synth Tones as immutable building blocks and to tweak them into shape using the controls provided at the Live Set level. However, the advantage of this is that a Synth Tone moulded into a new shape in one Live Set is not affected when inserted into another, which is not a trivial benefit.

Once you have inserted and, if desired, edited the Tones within a Live Set, you can apply effects and other facilities to them. On the surface, the effects section within a Live Set looks good, with four assignable MFXs (multi‑effects) offering 76 effect types, plus a global reverb. Unfortunately, the routing of the MFXs is fixed. While you can determine the level of the signal sent from each Layer to each MFX, to the reverb, and to the outside world, the four MFXs are permanently arranged in parallel, so there is no way to pass signal from one to the next. This means that you cannot send sounds sequentially through them to create (for example) an organ’s effects path of chorus, reverb, overdrive and rotary speaker, or through common guitar effects paths such as compression, overdrive, EQ, chorus, and delay. I discussed this with Roland, whose engineer’s response was, “we could make the routing more flexible, but this might have ramifications in other areas, so we should consider this carefully”. In other words: don’t hold your breath. Notwithstanding this, the quality of the effects themselves is up to Roland’s usual high standards, which is hardly surprisingly since many of them are augmented versions of the Fantom G effects, enhanced by the welcome addition of a three‑band parametric EQ.

A Live Set also offers a variation on the concept of morphing from one patch to another. Called ‘Tone Blending’, this allows you to move from one state to another, with multiple parameters such as level, filter cutoff, resonance and effect send levels being affected simultaneously by a single knob or the onboard D‑Beam controller. You can define the start and end points of the transition for each of the Layers in the Live Set, which makes it possible to do things as simple as introducing a sound into an existing mix, as interesting as morphing from an Acoustic sound to a Synth sound and back again, or as experimental as turning civilised patches into over‑effected sonic mayhem. Then, if you stumble across something that you like anywhere within the blending range, you can save this as another Live Set, which is an innovative way to generate new sounds.

Registrations

The Jupiter 80’s rear panel hosts all the connections you’d expect to see, and a couple more besides. A full list can be found in the ‘Abridged Specification’ box.

We now come to the top level, the Registration. There are 32 of these (A‑1 to D‑8) in a ‘Set’, and eight Sets (called [01] to [08]), giving a total of 256 Registrations, each of which comprises the aforementioned four Parts — Perc, Lower, Upper and Solo — that can be played in isolation, layered in a variety of ways, or split into a maximum of four regions across the keyboard. If you want to change the whole setup at the touch of a button, this is the level at which it’s done, using the buttons under the keyboard.

Given that the Solo Part comprises just a single Tone, you simply insert the one that you want, determine the keyboard range over which it will play, and set up things such as its level, pitch and pan. The modifying parameters aren’t as extensive as those provided by a Live Set, and the Solo Part’s effects structure — which offers just compression, EQ and delay in series — is quite different from a Live Set’s, so a given Tone can sound quite different when inserted and played here.

If anything, the Perc Part is the weirdest of them all. With its Manual Percussion option selected, this sets aside the bottom 15 notes of the keyboard for a selection of percussion sounds. There are eight sound sets provided but, given the limited number of notes available, these are not laid out in conventional GM fashion. Alternatively, you can select the Drums/SFX option, which gives you access to 16 drum kits, either across the entire keyboard or limited to the region defined by the Lower Part. You can also insert any Supernatural Tone here, again accessible across the whole keyboard if no splits are on, or in the same range as the Lower Part. This can be very useful, although you have to remember that the Perc Part’s editing and effects have the same structure as the Solo Part’s.

With more than a nod toward live performance, the Jupiter 80 offers two additional tools at the Registration level that can be applied to the Live Sets inserted into the Upper and Lower Parts. The first is a powerful arpeggiator. This can generate traditional patterns, with the usual parameters, such as octave range, rate and shuffle, but when you start to experiment with its Styles, Variations and Motifs, you’ll find that it offers many more possibilities, encompassing everything from simple patterns to guitar licks and strums, walking bass patterns and more. You can even create up to 128 new ‘User’ styles by importing and saving Standard MIDI Files of up to 500 notes. The second tool is called Harmony Intelligence, and this adds a harmony to the topmost note that you play in the Upper Part, calculated from the notes that you play in the Lower. There are 17 types of ‘intelligence’, and these determine the nature of the harmonies that are generated. Names such as Big Band, Strings, Hymn, Country and Gospel tell you exactly what Roland’s engineers had in mind, but while these would be appropriate for a domestic instrument, they seem a touch incongruous here.

The Jupiter 80’s MIDI capabilities are as extensive as you would expect, with independent input and output channels for each of the Parts, a separate control channel to change Registrations, MIDI sync, extensive MIDI CC capabilities, and the ability to transmit parameter changes as SysEx data. There’s also an extensive menu for controlling external sounds, and this allows you to set up things such as velocity ranges and key zones for each of the 16 channels. In addition to this, the Jupiter 80 offers Roland’s proprietary V‑Link protocol and is compatible with the new MIDI Visual Control specification, both of which allow players to control still images and video clips using MIDI note numbers and CCs. I would love to have access to this technology for my band’s stage shows, but as I don’t own a MIDI‑controlled video presenter or projector, I can only assume that this works as it should.

Finally, the Jupiter 80 incorporates a USB‑based song player and recorder. Copy a suitable file (or files) to a USB drive and stick it in the USB slot on the control panel, press the Song button and you’re ready to go. In playback mode, you can fast‑forward and rewind, loop within a file, chain files, alter the sound using the dedicated four‑band EQ, and perform karaoke‑style centre cancellation. You can also alter the playback speed and pitch, and although the algorithms for these functions are not state‑of‑the‑art, they are adequate. You can even record audio back onto the memory stick as 44.1kHz, 16‑bit WAV files, mixing your own performance with any audio being presented to the USB or analogue audio inputs. I like this player; it’s simple and intuitive, and the independent speed and pitch controls will allow you to work out all those fiddly Emerson Lake & Palmer piano solos that have been bothering you for years [he’s not kidding — Ed]. Nonetheless, I’m unimpressed by the repeated exhortation that one should, “never insert or remove a USB memory stick when the power is on”. Given that the same port is used for saving and backing up the Jupiter 80’s memories, you would think that an ‘eject’ command and hot‑swapping would be taken for granted, not precluded with dire warnings of the sky falling in!

In Use

The Jupiter 80’s keyboard is very pleasant to play; a good compromise given the range of keyboard duties — from grand pianos, to organs, to orchestral imitations, to synth solos — that it will be asked to perform. I suspect that this is in part because the size and weight of the Jupiter 80 lends the keyboard a reassuring solidity, while the instrument as a whole still remains more manageable than most synths based on 88‑note piano‑weighted keybeds. This has to be a good thing for an instrument designed to spend much of its life on the road. What’s more, the fact that the Jupiter 80 boots up markedly faster than a V‑Synth or a Fantom makes it more suitable for live use in at least one other sense: there must be nothing worse than standing on stage and telling the audience you’ll start playing again in a few minutes once the keyboards have rebooted! Other things also suggest that Roland have thought carefully about on‑stage use, and the area in which this is most obvious is, perhaps, that of patch selection. The 27 large, colourful buttons running behind the keyboard allow you to punch your choices from 54 predetermined Tones and Live Sets into the Parts of the current Registration, and the Tone Remain function holds any existing sound(s) until you release those keys, so there are no glitches on changeover. What’s more, you can specify the Tones and Live Sets that are attached to each button, and you’re not constrained to sounds that conform to their names, so the system can be very flexible.

So now we come to the sound of the Jupiter 80. Starting with the Supernatural Acoustic sounds, I have strong suspicions that, rather than being a pure ‘physical modelling’ synth in the way that I would historically have used that term, Supernatural Acoustic is similar to Roland’s Structured Adaptive Synthesis (SAS), which built its piano and electric piano sounds using parametric models derived from sample analysis. Given that a similar technology was recently used for the V‑Piano, I emailed Roland to ask whether I was correct and whether the piano sounds in the Jupiter 80 were the same as those found on other Supernatural pianos such as the RD700 and FP7F. I hit a corporate brick wall. The official response was, “we are unwilling to share this information”, and when I asked for a list of the behaviours that comprise Articulative Phrase Synthesis and Behavior Modeling Technology, I obtained the same answer. Nonetheless, the Jupiter 80 is, as Roland claim, a remarkably playable and expressive synthesizer, and many of its Supernatural Acoustic sounds — such as the superb Clavinets, the accordions and the excellent acoustic bass — are impressive, and the subtle but sometimes important performance benefits of BMT and APS shouldn’t be overlooked. Let’s take an example. If you select one of the acoustic guitars — say, 0035:SteelStr Guitar — and isolate this from all the other sounds, you’ll find that you can play it conventionally and it will sound equivalent to patches from elsewhere. You could also switch on the ‘Strum Mode’, so that chords are strummed in a realistic fashion. But, again, this is nothing new. However, BMT becomes apparent when you play two notes, either one or two semitones apart, quite hard and almost simultaneously. You then hear a realistic glissando from the first note to the second. If the interval is any greater, you obtain a strum or a picked chord because BMT assumes than any interval above two semitones is fretted separately or played on a different string. Other easily audible examples of APS/BMT can be heard when you trill rapidly and slur brass sounds, but there are some Tones for which the effects are either so subtle that I’m missing them, or nothing is implemented. Unfortunately, given Roland’s reticence to discuss the matter, I can’t be any more informative.

Turning now to Supernatural Synth, I can only restate how powerful the Jupiter 80 is in this department. You can stack three Partials in a Tone and up to 10 Tones in a Registration to create some monstrous patches combining analogue waveforms, Supersaw and PCMs! Or course, it’s much more sensible to create useful Tones and then layer them in Live Sets to create some luscious sounds, but I suspect that the main question on everyone’s lips is, ‘does it sound like a Jupiter 8?’. As you might expect in a synth called the Jupiter 80, there are numerous Tones, Live Sets and Registrations called ‘Jupiter 8 something or other’, and a cynic might expect these to be nothing more than an appeal to the gullible. However, notwithstanding a touch of aliasing at the highest pitches, I found the Jupiter 80 to be capable of some remarkably good imitations of the old lady. What’s more, these comparisons weren’t against dim recollections of how a JP8 sounded when I heard one in a shop in Middlesbrough on a soggy afternoon in 1982... I placed my Jupiter 8 next to the Jupiter 80 and compared them directly. Of course there were differences, but in a blind test of some brass and string patches, I couldn’t tell which synth was generating which. This was not what I had expected! Nonetheless, there is in my view one significant shortcoming in Supernatural Synth; while you can affect the loudness and brightness of a sound using aftertouch, you can’t introduce vibrato, tremolo or growl. For a synth that prides itself on its performance capabilities, this seems a lamentable oversight.

Conclusions

You may have expected that something bearing the Jupiter name would offer fistfuls of knobs and sliders, and a signal path harkening back to the heyday of analogue synthesis. The Jupiter 80 does neither. So should we conclude that its name and colour scheme are no more than a cynical marketing exercise designed to drag cash out of the wallets of the unwary? Certainly, it bears no more relation to a Jupiter 8 than a Juno Stage bears to a Juno 60, so it’s easy to leap to this conclusion. But you must also remember that the Jupiter name only assumed its current cachet some time after the original series had been superseded by the JX8P and the Super JX10. In 1981, the Jupiter 8 was merely Roland’s interpretation of the current state of the art, designed to compete head‑to‑head with the Prophet 5 and Oberheim OBX, so in the sense that the Jupiter 80 is a performance synth based on the latest technology, its name is not inappropriate. Nonetheless, it’s going to continue to annoy a lot of people.

Such issues aside, I’m relieved that Roland let me have the pre‑release Jupiter 80 for such an extended period, because at the start of this review I couldn’t understand why they had designed such a strange synth. But, as I learned how to approach its Tones, Live Sets and Registrations, and as I began to work with what its effects structure could do rather than complain about what it could not, I started to discover what a remarkably expressive musical instrument the Jupiter 80 is. I also began to realise that, had it been manufactured elsewhere, somebody in the marketing department would have been bouncing up and down and proclaiming loudly the multiple physical models that comprise Supernatural Acoustic, whereas Roland have been commendably conservative in their lack of hyperbole.

Of course, the Jupiter 80 is not for everybody, and if you need a workstation capable of providing a dozen splits with multitimbral effects assignments, you’re looking at the wrong instrument. But if you’re after something that provides some top‑notch piano and orchestral sounds, a remarkably powerful VA synth that can imitate the best of the real thing, and the ability to build these into complex, involving sonic structures, the Jupiter 80 has a lot going for it. Sitting somewhere between a preset stage piano/organ/synth and a fully featured workstation, it’s a brave design, and — like me — potential purchasers need to take the time to overcome their preconceptions of what they think it should be, and begin to appreciate it for what it really is.   

Published in SOS August 2011

Roland V-Combo VR-09 - NAMM 2013

Clavia Nord Stage 2 HA88

Reviews : Keyboard

Performance Keyboard 

Synth, organ, piano: the Nord Stage 2 does it all, and now even lets you load and play your own samples. Is this the best Stage yet?

Gordon Reid

Perhaps one of the least expected developments in synthesizer technology over the past decade has been the re-emergence of the ‘stage’ keyboard. Back in the 1970s, we called them ‘multi-keyboards’ and they combined electronic piano presets that sounded nothing like pianos, strings presets that sounded vaguely like orchestral strings, and brass presets that occasionally sounded similar to brass. Later, the brass sections evolved into fledgling polysynths, before the species as a whole was swept away by the emergence of affordable polysynths and workstations that did everything that they could do, and much more. Nevertheless, the concept never died, and when piano and organ emulations became good enough to fool many of the people most of the time, the genus was reborn.

For Clavia, this happened in 2001 when the company announced the Nord Electro. I was not a fan, but matters later took a turn for the better with the release of the Nord Stage, and then the Nord Stage EX, which I reviewed for Performing Musician in 2009 (www.performing-musician.com/pm/apr09/articles/nordstageex88.htm). Today, the EX has evolved still further into the Stage 2. This offers a wider range of piano sounds than before (some pre-loaded, others supplied on the accompanying piano library DVD), three organ models, and a synthesizer that combines virtual analogue synthesis, basic FM synthesis, PCM-based synthesis and, for the first time, sample-based synthesis that can use your own samples as well as the libraries provided by Clavia. Three models are available: the HA88 (reviewed here) and 76-note HA76 ($3999), which share the same weighted hammer-action keyboard, and the 73-note SW73 ($3599), which has a semi-weighted, organ-profile keyboard.

The Stage 2 retains the distinctive red livery and chunky construction that has become Clavia’s trademark, and very nice it is too. With the pitch-bend and mod wheel controls behind rather than beside the keys, it’s only three inches wider than the keybed itself, and it’s surprisingly shallow from front to rear, all of which makes the HA88 pleasantly manageable. Furthermore, at less than 20kg it’s not unwieldy.

The Pianos

Brace yourselves, knob fans: the control panel is festooned knobs, buttons and LEDs. From the left we have the Organ and Piano sections, global controls, the Synth section and the Effects and Compressor.

You can use the included Sound Manager software to replace the pianos and related instruments installed at the factory but, before doing so, I decided to check out the pre-loaded instruments. As soon as I selected the first of these, something leapt out at me — the patch name. Grand Imperial? That’s a Bösendorfer, whereas the EX only featured a Steinway Model D and a Yamaha C7 in its original grand-piano sound set. The Grand Imperial is my favourite piano, so it was with some trepidation that I started to play... Was I disappointed? Not a bit! The sampling is even, the velocity transitions are smooth, the string resonance is lifelike, and the new Long Release function (which reduces the abrupt response of the damper mechanism) adds even more ‘size’ to the sound. I love it. My only complaint is that I need to buy the optional Nord Triple Pedal to access the pedal noise, half-pedalling, sostenuto and ‘soft’ functions. In other words, if I were to buy a Stage 2, I would need to add a couple of hundred dollars to my budget for the pedal, and I must admit that that would annoy me.

The piano sample memory in the Stage 2 is roughly double that of the EX, so the ‘Medium sized’ Steinway and Yamaha grand pianos (ie. those with fewer string resonance samples) have been retained alongside the ‘Large’ Bösendorfer. My view of these is unchanged from 2009: they are good enough for many uses, but slightly uneven multisampling means that I might hesitate to use them for solo work. The Yamaha CP80 is also located in the Grand section, and this also suffers from noticeable multisampling. But my biggest gripe with it in the past was that notes were curtailed too quickly when you released the keys. The Long Release facility cures this, and I would now be more than happy to use this sound. Likewise, the upright pianos have made big strides. Those in the EX were very disappointing, but the new ones are a huge improvement. I particularly like the Black Upright, which has been sampled from a piano that I haven’t previously encountered, a Petrof 132.

The electric pianos are divided into two sets — tines (Mk I, Mk II and MkV Rhodes pianos) and reeds (a single variant of the Wurlitzer EP200A) — and they can be extremely good. I particularly like the Rhodes Mk II ‘Shallow Close’ version. With tremolo and a touch of drive, played through a slow Leslie, the results are magic.

The Clavinets are also very usable, with all four pickup combinations available and the Brilliant, Treble, Medium and Soft options nicely recreated. The sampling isn’t perfect, but when they’re played through effects and a suitable amp model, the results can be almost indistinguishable from the original. Unfortunately, there are two omissions. The first is the lack of pressure sensitivity. A real Clavinet goes slightly sharp if you lean on a key after playing a note, and the Stage 2 doesn’t. The second is much more significant: the omission of the Clavinet’s damper. Muted sounds are an important part of the instrument’s repertoire, and the absence of a mechanism to imitate these greatly reduces the range of sounds and effects you can obtain.

The final set of sounds in this section is derived from two harpsichords; a French instrument with 8’ and 4’ strings plus a lute stop, and a double-strung Italian instrument. Three variations are pre-loaded, of which the third, the French harpsichord, is superb. With the 8’ and 4’ choirs plucked and a truly believable release noise, it’s pure 1960s’ haunted house. Think of the music for The Avengers or Randall & Hopkirk (Deceased) and you’re in the right territory.

The Organs

The Stage 2 HA88, despite its huge array of controls and 88-note keyboard is not as large as you might think and measures 1297 x 121 x 334mm.

The Stage 2 offers three organ models derived from the Nord C2 — a Hammond B3, a Vox Continental and a Farfisa Compact — so it’s a huge shame that its pipe organ sounds have gone AWOL.

As is now the norm for Hammond emulations, this one is excellent and, with the new ‘Vintage 2’ mode selected to provide lots of lovely generator leakage and the improved rotary speaker effect providing some growl, the results can be magic. The initial sound is now much more authentic, the key-click and percussion effects are spot-on, the chorus/vibrato effects are first class, and details such as the compression of the percussion footage and the wrap-around of the 1’ drawbar are correctly implemented. All in all, it does its job superbly.

I wanted to be a fan of the Vox Continental model on the EX and, to be fair, its underlying sound was good. However, somewhere in its development Clavia discarded the correct footages and mixtures and replaced them with a strange alternative set. Happily, order has now been restored in the ranks (ooo… sorry!) and the 16’, 8’, 4’ and 2’ footages are all present and correct, as are the II, III and IV mixtures. As expected, the sound and vibrato are a tad more civilised than my temperamental Vox Super Continental II, but it would be churlish to criticise, because they still reek of cheap (if overly well-behaved) transistors.

Comparing the ‘Farf’ model to my Compact Duo proved interesting because the Nord’s sound is not as close as I had expected, representing only a subset of the available sounds and lacking much of the aggressive teenage angst and bark of the original. Nonetheless, with some overdrive to emulate the Farfisa’s valve preamp and some high-frequency boost to give it ‘edge’, you may find yourself playing early Pink Floyd albums whether you had intended to do so or not. So if we overlook the missing sounds, my only serious criticism relates to an error in the voicing. The Nord web site claims that “the Nord models the Compact Duo” but, whereas the uppermost stop on the Compact Duo is a mixture of 2-2/3’ and 2’, the uppermost stop on the Nord is a single pitch at 2-2/3’. This lacks the ‘Brilliant’ tab and doesn’t work in the same way because the highest component in the sound is a fifth, not an octave. This should be corrected.

Before moving on, the organ section has two limitations that need mentioning. Firstly, although you can create dual-manual setups using the Slots (see below), you can’t place different organ models in each. Secondly, you can’t create a dual-manuals-plus-bass-pedals setup unless you use the Synth to provide the pedal sounds, which brings us neatly to...

The Synth

The improved synth section now boasts a dedicated LFO and an arpeggiator, both of which can be synchronised to a master clock and, with the release of OS 1.30, to MIDI clock. Yes, there are limitations — ADR/ASR envelopes instead of ADSRs, for example — but there’s lots that’s good, with a large selection of virtual analogue waveforms, including various PWM, double-saw and sync options, 38 2-op and 3-op FM algorithms, and a table of 62 PCM waveforms. You can’t sweep through the table (which means that Clavia have been a bit naughty calling it wavetable synthesis), but many of these waveforms are very useful, and when they’re filtered, shaped and modulated, all manner of high-quality patches leap out. Note, however, that you’ll need to spend some time studying its unconventional architecture if you want to get the best from it. The positive side of this is that you may stumble upon new ways of doing things and new sounds in the process.

Back in 2009, I described the Nord Sound Manager and asked, “how long will it be before the EX can utilise Mellotron samples, or even RMI Electrapianos, Hohner Pianets, Solinas and Logan string ensembles?”. Well, we now know, because the synth section in the Stage 2 incorporates 384MB of dedicated flash RAM and is compatible with the complete Nord sample library. This contains Mellotron samples, RMI Electrapianos, Solinas and Logans, together with a wide range of Chamberlin tapes, guitars and basses, harmoniums and organs, vocals, wind, brass, percussion, an interesting range of vintage Korg synths and even a couple of Hohner Pianets! All of these samples, together with Clavia’s Sample Editor software, are available on the second DVD supplied with the Stage 2, so you can even edit and map your own samples and multisamples, and then convert them into Stage 2 format for dumping into its internal memory. It’s not the most intuitive program I’ve ever seen, but it turns the Stage 2 into a powerful Sample + Synthesis instrument. This is a massive step forward, and I strongly recommend that you experiment. The results can be impressive.

In Use

To get the best from the Stage 2, you’ll need to get your head around its unconventional architecture and odd programming system. In essence, each Program contains two layers (Slot A and Slot B), and you can place any or all of the three sound-generating sections into these — either across the whole keyboard or into an active split (chosen from Lo, Up and Hi) or in adjacent combinations of these. There are numerous limitations of this structure, particularly the 10 pre-defined split points, but it still allows you to create combinations of, say, piano/strings ensembles, dual-manual organ registrations, dual-voice polysynths, or even six-part piano/organ/synth stacks six layers deep. You can also play Slot B from a dedicated external keyboard, which will appeal to organists.

The effects structure is just as limiting because (with the exception of the global effects) only one sound generator at a time can access each effects section. This means that if you want, say, chorus on your synth sound, you can’t have chorus or any other effect from the Effect 2 section on any other sound unless you use both Slots. Consequently, you have to plan carefully how you’re going to allocate the effects within Programs, and decide to which outputs you’re going to send sounds if external treatment is necessary to obtain the results you want.

Happily, you can control each of the six instruments in the two Slots using a separate MIDI channel, and the Stage 2 now offers an extensive MIDI CC list. Meanwhile, in the other direction, each Slot offers an ‘Extern’ section to control an outboard synth or module. But perhaps the most important MIDI improvement over and above the EX is its ability to synchronise the synth’s LFO, the arpeggiator and appropriate effects to MIDI clock. You can select a different clock ratio for each parameter, so, for example, the arpeggiator can be running at twice the speed of the LFO, which is itself running at twice the speed of the chorus and at 3/8ths the speed of the delay effect. Setting up Programs in this fashion can yield classy results, tying multiple sounds together into a coherent whole as well as providing all manner of rhythmic effects.

Of course, there are many things that haven’t changed. One worthy of mention is Morphing, which allows you to move smoothly from one set of parameter values to another, using any combination of the mod wheel, control pedal and aftertouch to do so. Morphing isn’t confined entirely to continuous parameters so, for example, it can switch Farfisa tabs on and off, although it can’t change the organ model itself. One of my favourite uses is to ‘pull out’ Hammond drawbars while switching the Leslie effect from slow to fast using aftertouch. You may prefer to make radical changes to synthesized sounds and effects settings but, however you use it, get to know morphing well... it’s your friend!

Finally, it’s also worth noting that the memory structure in the Stage 2 has been extended and improved. For example, the synth sounds are no longer divided into the meaningless Bass, Pad and Synth banks, and are now simply numbered 1 to 300. More importantly, the Program memory has been increased, with four banks of 100 Programs plus five ‘Live’ locations. However, the factory Programs are stored in no particular order, so I think if I bought a Stage 2 I would create some sensible libraries.

Conclusions

 

At some point during the course of this review, I used the Sound Manager software to delete the existing grand pianos and load the ‘Extra Large’ Bösendorfer and, in truth, I think that I could play this all day, not just because it sounds great, but because the HA88 keybed makes it a pleasure. Of course, a fully weighted keybed is not ideal for all keyboard instruments — Clavinets and harpsichords, in particular, have a completely different feel — but I was pleased to find that I could use the HA88 for these without problems. Likewise, I found it to be fine for polysynth duties. I could even attempt organ swipes without shredding my fingers although, if this were my prime requirement, I would certainly consider dropping down to the SW73 (semi-weighted keyboard) version.

All in all, the Stage 2 is a huge step forward from the Stage EX. It’s not cheap, but the combination of excellent acoustic pianos, superb e-pianos and Clavinets, unsurpassed organ emulations, sample replay and a surprisingly flexible polysynth should be a powerful aphrodisiac for players whose response to modern workstations is something along the lines of ‘$*%$?!?!?’. Of course, it offers far fewer facilities than, say, a Roland Fantom G8 or a Korg Kronos 88 (both of which can do everything that the Nord can) so there’s no way that one can justify it in terms of a conventional price/performance ratio. But if you cherish a simpler approach and the price hike is not a problem, the Nord Stage 2 is a very fine instrument.   

Published in SOS November 2011

KingKORG - NAMM 2013

Teenage Engineering OP1

Reviews : Keyboard

Portable Synthesizer

The toy‑like exterior of Teenage Engineering’s OP1 belies the versatile synth, sequencer, sampler and recorder hidden within. We retreat to our bedroom and put it though its paces...

Paul Nagle

Sometimes a product hits the market well in advance of the technology required to do it justice. Who can forget the first brick‑sized mobile phones, or Clive Sinclair’s ‘pedalo’ electric car? However, even the lowliest products deserve a revisit from time to time — for example, Casio’s VL‑Tone. This tiny synth, sequencer and calculator was best known for its role in Trio’s hit ‘Da Da Da’ and even though it was rather cheesy, the VL‑Tone had two points in its favour: it was small and it was cheap.

Fast forward 30 years and there’s a strange feeling of déjà vu surrounding the latest toy‑like, but definitely not Fisher Price, synth. Despite originating from Sweden rather than Japan, it’s difficult not to imagine Teenage Engineering’s OP1, with its mini keyboard and internal speaker, as today’s VL‑Tone. However, I’m sure its creators hope for a more substantial legacy, given that they’ve had three decades of technological advances to draw on. The OP1 has eight different synthesizer engines, a choice of three sequencers, drums, effects and a four‑track, tape-style recorder function. With a motion sensor, sampler, basic mastering capabilities and even an FM radio, you probably won’t miss the calculator — unless you’re a busking accountant!

Teenage Kicks

Alongside the power switch a USB 2 port and 3.5mm audio in and out sockets make up all of the OP1’s connections.

Even though I’d seen its pictures on the Teenage Engineering web site, they didn’t prepare me for the physical reality of the OP1. This miniature workstation is shipped in a recycled Paperfoam box, ideal to keep it safe as it travels around with you. Inside the box you’ll find the OP1, two elastic bands (to keep the box together), a transparent overlay and a USB cable. There’s no sign of a manual, though; for this you need to pay a visit to the Teenage Engineering web site.

For a few seconds, I wasn’t quite sure what to think, until I started to handle what proved to be a surprisingly weighty slice of cold aluminium. Any lingering suspicions that this was a toy quickly faded because, despite being just 28 by 10cm, this slender metal object is a thing of beauty. Underneath is a plastic, braille‑marked panel that helpfully points to the power switch, mini-USB 2 port and stereo I/O on mini‑jacks.

Power is supplied by a Li‑Ion battery that proudly boasts 16 hours of active life. Charged via USB, this impressive battery also claims two years of stand‑by time. The main controls are four encoders and, along with the volume knob, these boost the height to approximately 2cm, while four rubber feet do their best to keep that smooth, grey underbelly scratch‑free.

Teenage Engineering describe themselves as “young minds working with technology” and anyone doubting their credentials should immediately flick the power switch and marvel at the OLED display. This 320 x 160-pixel screen is fantastic; it’s pin‑sharp, intelligently laid out and uses colour and animation meaningfully. On each page, colour is the natural link between on‑screen objects and encoders — simple and highly effective.

Initially, you boot into four-track mode with its image of reels and scrolling tape. The transparent overlay describes how to progress from fledgling synth tweaks to a recording in eight easy steps. Following these, you quickly appreciate the layout and feel of the buttons, which are as positive as they are plentiful. You also appreciate the tiny internal speaker, which is perfectly adequate for extended periods of playing around the house, something I did increasingly as the days turned to weeks.

Sampling & Synthesis

The OP1’s ‘String’ synthesizer engine.

It was instantly clear that the OP1 is not a nerdy or techy instrument. Instead it’s slick, occasionally innovative and, above all, uncluttered. There’s a real feeling of restraint, of limiting the tweakable parameters only to the essentials so that you’re never diverted from what matters — making music.

Internally, there’s 64MB of RAM and a generous 512MB of flash storage — more than enough to hold a decent collection of audio material and synth patches. USB connectivity ensures that you can back up your work and transfer data across in either direction. In fact, pretty much all file handling is done externally, whether it’s creating and naming folders for user patches or backing up the various types of data. Sometimes, with no computer nearby, I wished I could just name and save my patches or store a ‘reel of tape’ to flash, but this isn’t currently possible. At least everything you do is instantly backed up, so whenever you feel the urge, picking up from where you left off takes only a matter of seconds.

One note shy of two octaves, the fixed‑velocity keyboard responds reliably and, though giving little scope for expression, feels durable and solid. The keyboard may be transposed by four octaves either way, the transpose keys doubling as a basic pitch bender when Shifted.

With a press of the blue Synthesizer key you’re free to explore the various ‘engines’ on offer. The OP1 isn’t multitimbral, but each engine has six notes of available polyphony and a streamlined user interface that is never daunting. Via eight sound‑selection keys you have instant access to patches of your choice based on any of the engines. Bring the Shift key into play and a list of engine types plus available presets within each type is revealed.

The engine choices are: Cluster, Digital, Dr Wave, FM, Phase, Pulse, Sampler and String, and each has its own character and supporting graphics. Considering the scope of the synthesis on offer, the factory patches aren’t too spectacular, only a few hinting at the power under the hood. This is where you come in. 

The OP1’s Tape Recorder function — a source of almost limitless audio‑mangling fun.

Checking through each engine in turn, Cluster is revealed as a “multi‑layered oscillator cluster” delivering sounds that range from punchy and almost analogue to huge and fuzzy: think ‘supersaw from hell’! The Digital engine employs waveshaping, ring modulation and a control simply named ‘Digitalness’; these all combine to deliver an assault of spiky, crystalline textures or, after some encoder tweaking, noisy, distorted organs.

Dr Wave is “Frequency Domain Synthesis” and encompasses tones reminiscent of oscillator sync and formant synthesis, as demonstrated by the patch ‘Talk Box’. The FM engine is more familiar territory, its parameters shifting around on screen as you adjust the frequency, FM amount or routing of its four operators. Then there’s a Phase engine representing Phase Distortion and Pulse, which is two pulse waves whose positions and levels can be adjusted and modulated. Then there’s an engine I couldn’t help pausing on: String. Apparently this is a “waveguide string model”, but whatever the code is doing, it caught my attention as the ideal source of cutting basses and general twanginess, plus shimmering string pads.

With four main parameters per engine and no real explanations in the manual, you’re left to dive in and experiment with no preconceptions or baggage — although in the case of the final engine, the sampler, you should at least recognise the terms used! The sampler offers up to six seconds of sample time per patch and, once again, is all about speed and accessibility. A sample may be sourced from the onboard mic, the line input or the built‑in FM radio; alternatively, you can feed it with tracks plucked from the recorder. Thanks to the keyboard’s impressive transpose range, a single sample can be taken into some very strange regions, while, for hands‑on adjustment, the encoders set the sample start and end points, plus the loop points. Although there’s no built‑in normalise function, levels can be boosted after recording, should that be necessary. A small line of LEDs at the side acts as a VU meter, and otherwise there’s remarkably little else to think about.

The sampler and synth engines sit in front of common pages for the ADSR envelope, effects and modulation. At any time, you can replace the current engine without affecting parameters on these screens.

Effects & Drums

You can record the Tape Recorder’s output to create an ‘album’ of up to six minutes on each side.

The effects are rather idiosyncratic, a delay and spring reverb being the most ‘normal’. There’s a “hacked telephone system” that is so lo‑fi it doesn’t just cheapen your audio, it trashes it and throws in strange artifacts of its own. Then there’s a rather bonkers filter whose Frequency, Punch (resonance‑ish), Power and Rounds parameters suggest sonic pugilism of an extreme kind. This gritty digital filter varies in effectiveness according to the synth engine loaded; the more harmonics it has to work with, the better.

I wouldn’t say the effects are game‑changers but they make a worthwhile contribution. Whether it’s the metallic fizz of the spring reverb or the three‑dimensional feedback of the Grid effect (think broken flanger or primitive digital delay), they get under your skin — especially when modulated by one of the more unusual LFO implementations of the synthesis world. As well as setting regular cyclic modulation, you can specify the internal three‑axis motion sensor as a mod source. Waving the OP1 in the air to generate modulation felt more ‘right’ than I expected, even if it was too easy to hit buttons and accidentally select new patches while doing it.

If wavy vibrato doesn’t appeal, how about radio‑sourced modulation? Seriously, the internal FM radio isn’t just for sampling and ambience, it’s for modulation too. I long ago gave up trying to persuade analogue modular synth makers to build a voltage‑controlled short-wave radio (surely the ideal random noise source?), but hearing the OP1 convinces me I should have persevered. Although not quite as packed with spacey wibbles as shortwave bands, FM is populated with plenty of bright, clear stations that can be used to modulate, say, the start point of a sample or the damping of the spring reverb. If that isn’t sufficiently wacky for you, further malformation can be introduced by hijacking the microphone or line input. Any of these can act as a modulation source directed at any part of the synthesis engine, making the OP1 far less basic than it first appears.

Drum mode incorporates the same effects and LFO capabilities, its kits constructed from slices of audio sampled on the OP1 itself, or imported via USB. A kit has 24 possible sounds (all of which can play simultaneously), and there’s no reason to limit them to percussion. I got great mileage from synths, vocals, even short loops packed within the maximum 12 seconds of sample time. Each drum is defined by setting start and end pointers within the sample then transposing, reversing or looping as required.

Tape Recorder

The OP1’s ‘Tombola’ sequencer is certainly idiosyncratic. More conventional sequencing is on offer elsewhere.

Although the synths and the drums are entertaining, it’s the ‘Tape Recorder’ that takes the biscuit, eats the biscuit and then returns for the whole cookie jar. With a total running time of just six minutes, four mono tracks don’t look too special on paper, by today’s standards anyway. This isn’t the place to discuss whether great music can be born from such limitations, but it is the place to remark that this particular tape-recorder simulation is eerily addictive. Everything from the graphics to the sound of tape scrubbing over tape heads adds to the feel of authenticity. There are wild liberties to be taken too, without fear that the tape might snap! For example, you can switch into reverse at any time, even during recording. Naturally, you can bounce tracks down, loop or repeat sections, and even record while manually winding, for some seriously trippy sound effects. As with real tape, if you record at a faster speed you obtain better-quality results, but my favourite trick was at the other end of the spectrum: slowing it right down, then sampling the results. Monster sampler patches are easily made by overdubbing several synth parts, then lifting them straight from tape into the sampler.

Even though each track is mono, you can overdub or cut and paste seemingly forever, capturing performances from the synth, drums or from external sources, such as the iPad I have nearby. If you turn on ‘beat matching’, bar lines scroll along with the tape, as an aid to making smoother loops. This won’t be mistaken for a DAW in a hurry, but there are some frills, such as the built‑in metronome and tap tempo — features I never had on my old TEAC four‑track!

Each track passes through a simple mixer with just level and pan controls; the summed result then hits a three‑band EQ, a master effect and a final drive section. The master effect is a stereo version of the effects encountered earlier, placed over the entire output. As each instrument passes through the currently selected tape track, this proves to be a way of adding a second effect to synth or drum patches. The mixer even includes a simple compressor, plus a graphic representation of the entire sound path.

Having laid down some tracks, you must connect a USB cable to perform a backup or do further production work on them. If you prefer to stay in the box, you can create a stereo master ‘album’ by cutting some virtual vinyl. Two album sides of up to six minutes each can be recorded and the resulting stereo files (in AIFF format) are then ready for transfer to your computer. Even as the vinyl is being ‘cut’, you can add new material alongside the Tape Recorder’s output; the album records whatever it receives.

Sequencers

The OP1’s mixer screen.

Three different sequencers provide everything from simple repetitive patterns to Tenori‑On-grade eccentricity. The most unusual is ‘Tombola’, dispensing welcome unpredictability from a rotating tombola tube. Notes are first cast into it by playing the keyboard. You then set their heaviness (loudness), bounciness, and the speed of the tombola’s rotation, before sitting back to enjoy the mayhem. Gaps can be opened in the tube wall, letting old notes spin off to freedom and make way for new ones to be added. Ideal for weird backgrounds and textures.

For more regular grooves, there are two step‑based sequencers, one of which is fairly similar to the sequencer in Roland’s SH101. First, you enter a sequence of up to 99 notes and then trigger it from the keyboard, applying swing or introducing patterns of gaps as it plays. Lastly, there’s the 16-step Pattern sequencer, a more traditional grid‑based implementation ideal for polyphonic keyboard or drum parts. Sequence length can be dynamically adjusted during playback, notes rotated, and so on. The step sequencers may be latched their directions can be changed without missing a beat, and all three can drive external instruments.

Control

With no obvious MIDI connections, you’d be forgiven for thinking the OP1 was completely self‑contained. While it’s true that there are gaps in its MIDI implementation, there are still goodies to enjoy, thanks to a USB port that isn’t exclusively for backup purposes.

In the OP1’s normal operating mode, it receives notes and pitch‑bend on a single (currently fixed) MIDI channel. Played via a master keyboard and with the line output connected to studio monitors, the various synth engines started to come alive. I found that chords and heavy velocity produced distortion that had previously gone unheard but it rarely took long to bring this under control. The OP1 doesn’t respond to sustain-pedal information, nor does it sync to (or transmit) MIDI clock, but Teenage Engineering aim to polish the MIDI spec considerably before declaring their opus ‘finished’. I also experienced some odd noises in the otherwise quiet output; these were traced to the USB charging process, and to suppress them I was given a preview of a forthcoming operating system featuring a switch that deactivates charging when necessary.

There’s one last operating role to mention: that of possibly the most ostentatious nano‑controller ever. It could be useful, though; the four encoders can be programmed for MIDI CC transmission and even offer relative or absolute operation, which is a rare choice where endless encoders are concerned.

Conclusion

The OP1 makes me think of Keira Knightley — there, I’ve said it! To explain: it is incredibly slender and attractive, yet there’s always a feeling its destiny lies beyond my lowly circles. The price reflects an unflinching approach to quality, but it’s bound to be a significant factor in any purchase decision.

Apart from a few aspects of the MIDI implementation and the reliance on a computer for file handling, I couldn’t fault the attention to detail. The OP1’s technologies fit neatly together and offer a level of focus rarely seen in today’s hardware, thanks in no small measure to the welcoming display. Clear graphics reveal each engine far better than long descriptive text, and if each is a relatively uncomplicated digital affair, who’s to say that digital can’t be beautiful too? If you prefer to work with slices of organic reality, the sampler and microphone are never far away.

It was the tape-recorder function that really grabbed me, though. I wasn’t expecting such a creative tool, with nuances such as the impression of tape moving at varying speeds across the heads. It offers an unparalleled degree of interaction for a tape recorder, becoming a performance instrument in its own right — and, happily, without all that crappy head-cleaning, tape stretching and oxide dumping that nostalgia fails to mention!

Falling somewhere between ‘musical sketchpad’ and ‘full production workstation’, I found Keira to be an elegant companion, ideal to keep nearby should the muse strike, and ready for extended action, thanks to superior battery life. Even though currently out of my league, the OP1 takes portable musical fun to a whole new level.  

Published in SOS January 2012

Korg MS20 Mini - NAMM 2013

ArturiaAnalog Experience

Reviews : Keyboard

The Laboratory 

The latest addition to Arturia’s Analog Experience series takes their hybrid software/hardware synth concept even further.

Gordon Reid

When I first read about the flagship of Arturia’s Analogue Experience (‘AE’) series, I wondered whether there would be any demand for another product based on the company’s existing analogue modelling technology. My review of the curent two products in the series — the Player and the Factory (see Sound On Sound January 2011) — suggested that they provide an interesting set of facilities in a novel fashion at an attractive price, but what of the Laboratory? Could there be room above the Factory for a bigger and better ‘Experience’, or were Arturia attempting to slice the virtual analogue soft synth market just a little too thinly? (As we were going to press, Arturia announced a 61‑note version of the Laboratory, but this review will concentrate on the 49‑note model.)

Physically Speaking

Like its siblings, the Laboratory combines three elements: a keyboard controller, a large library of editable sounds based on the company’s existing V-series soft synths, and a separate software package that allows users to configure the keyboard for use with other software.

Let’s start with the 49‑note velocity‑ and aftertouch‑sensitive keyboard. This is not just wider than the keyboards supplied with the Player and the Factory; it offers a greater range of facilities and more in the way of physical controls, with nine sliders (two ADSRs and Tempo), 13 knobs, 23 buttons (including 10 snapshot buttons that allow you to recall favourite patches from the keyboard) and four pads, as well as traditional pitch‑bend and modulation wheels. In addition to these, there are six buttons that send MMC messages (Start, Stop, Record, Backward, Forward and Loop) for transport control of hardware and software sequencers. Meanwhile, around at the back I was pleased to find five‑pin DIN sockets for MIDI In and Out, as well as the expected USB/MIDI socket, plus quarter‑inch sockets for no fewer than four forms of control: sustain, expression, ‘Aux’ and breath control. This is very sophisticated for a low‑cost system and, if you compare this with the 32‑note keyboard that comes with the Factory (which has no MIDI In, no Aux, no breath control input, no pads and fewer of the other controls), let alone that of the Player, it’s clear that it’s a big step up from its smaller siblings.

The Laboratory Sounds

The software side of the Laboratory; the bottom panel mimics the settings made on the controller keyboard.

Complementing the hardware, the Laboratory contains the latest generation of Arturia’s Analogue Experience software, with 3500 preset (but editable) sounds based on the company’s Moog, ARP, Roland, SCI and Yamaha soft synths. Once installed, the software appears as VST, AU and RTAS plug‑ins, as well as a stand‑alone application, and will run on OS X, Windows XP, Vista and 7. Getting it up and running on my MacBook Pro proved to be straightforward, although you need Internet access to register it, and a bit of prior experience with the eLicenser system used by Arturia goes a long way toward making the process as painless as possible.

The software seems very similar to that supplied with the Factory and the Player, and it’s worth reading my earlier review if you haven’t already done so, because almost everything that I wrote about the smaller systems remains relevant. But while it’s tempting to assume that the Laboratory version is much the same, with just a bit more of this and a smidgen more of that, it would be a mistake, because, in three important ways, the Laboratory is much more powerful than its siblings.

Although Analogue Experience sounds are based on Arturia’s V-series soft synths you have (until now) only had access to a limited subset of their editing and performing parameters. So, for example, the Player allows you to adjust the filter, the LFO and the amplitude envelope of a sound that has dozens of other parameters hidden away ‘under the hood’. The Factory is somewhat more flexible, adding access to the effects mixes and four assignable parameters, but it is still unable to edit a sound fully. And, at first sight, the Laboratory is only slightly more advanced, with the addition of a second ADSR contour generator. But if you have any of Arturia’s V-series synths installed on the same computer as the Laboratory, something magical happens. Click on the edit button of an appropriate sound and you can open the original soft synth within the Laboratory to edit it, and even create completely new sounds. Strangely, Arturia don’t seem to make a big deal of this within its documentation, but I think that it’s a huge step forward. It makes the Laboratory much more than just a tweaker and player of preset sounds; it’s now an über‑editor/librarian for all of your Arturia synths, integrating them into a single environment that is much more manageable than invoking each of them individually.

The Laboratory’s rear panel has MIDI In and Out ports, three control inputs on quarter‑inch jacks, a USB connection, and an input for an optional 6V power supply.

The next huge difference is the provision of Scenes. These allow you to combine two sounds; either layered or placed either side of a user‑defined split point. There’s also a Multi mode, although this is not the full multitimbral mode that the name implies — it’s a duo‑timbral mode that assigns the sounds of your choice to MIDI channels 1 and 2. You can assign sounds to the Upper and Lower parts; select and edit them from the keyboard; transpose, mix and pan them; and assign a ‘Melody’ (actually, one of 180 preset arpeggios) to one of them. While there’s no way to edit these arpeggios, they can be used in conjunction with the library of preset rhythm loops accessed using the pads on the keyboard (or their on‑screen equivalents), which makes them rather useful when using the Laboratory ‘DJ‑style’ or as a scratch pad for ideas.

Ah yes, the pads... Like much else in the Laboratory, these offer more than is immediately obvious. Far from simply allowing you to play notes or tap percussion instruments (which, of course, they do) each provides three modes — gate, trigger and loop — and can act exclusively (or not) with respect to the others. So, for example, you can place up to four complementary rhythm loops under the pads, select ‘loop’ for each, switch ‘exclusive’ off for each, mix their levels to taste, and then play simple or layered rhythms, switching each loop on or off by tapping the appropriate pad. Selecting the loops couldn’t be simpler (you drag and drop them from the list in the pads’ setup page) and you don’t even have to be precise when you play them; adding a new loop to something that’s already playing always results in a synchronised rhythm, no matter how poor your timing might be.

The MIDI Control Centre

Programming pads in the Laboratory software.

The final element in the package is the MIDI Control Centre software installed alongside the Laboratory itself. This allows you to configure the hardware so that every control, when tweaked, sends the MIDI CC# of your choice. You can then store the configuration in the keyboard itself, in effect turning it into a dedicated controller for another synth or software package. Since configurations can be saved on your host computer, you can quickly reconfigure the keyboard for whatever purpose is required, and I particularly like the idea of assigning the nine sliders to act as physical drawbars for a software Hammond organ emulation.

The keyboard boasts a 12V DC PSU input, so that you can use it as a stand‑alone MIDI controller without connecting it to a computer for USB power. It’s also worth mentioning that it’s a USB/MIDI converter too, and this allowed me to use my Mac to play and control vintage MIDI synths (which have no USB inputs) without the need for a dedicated interface. The only time that this failed to work was when I attempted to play them from the Laboratory’s GUI. I confirmed this with Arturia, who admitted that they had not expected anyone to attempt this.

In Use

Using the Laboratory could not be much simpler. Load the software with the keyboard plugged in, and everything synchronises and is ready for use. Nonetheless, its capabilities range far beyond simply playing its existing sounds.

To illustrate this, I loaded the Laboratory as a plug‑in within Digital Performer 7, created a MIDI track, routed the input from the keyboard to the plug‑in, and selected a string ensemble patch within it. I then loaded a second instance, allocated this to a different MIDI track and selected a choral patch. I could now click on either of the MIDI tracks and play the instance of the Laboratory connected to each. Moving on, I created a MIDI Group and attempted to play both instances of the Laboratory simultaneously. This worked perfectly, and I now had a luscious ‘choir and strings’ ensemble under my fingertips. Invoking Scenes on each, I also had access to two duo‑timbral synths with two, independent (but synchronised) rhythm sections. This was getting interesting. Six timbres and three rhythm sections proved to be even more so. As for eight (or 10, or 12...) timbres derived from surprisingly accurate imitations of Moogs, ARP 2600s, CS80s, Jupiter 8s and Prophets, whether split, layered or accessible as a complete multitimbral setup... well, I’m sure you get the picture. I even invoked the full V-series GUIs within these setups, and everything functioned as it should. This was good stuff.

Regarding the hardware itself, I mentioned to Arturia that a couple of the sliders and the mod‑wheel brushed very slightly against the case on the review keyboard. It wasn’t a serious problem, and I doubt that many users would even have cared, but they immediately despatched another one to me. This was much better. On both units, I found the semi‑weighted keybed just a little too light for serious playing, but this was not because the action had changed significantly from the keybed that I complemented on the Factory keyboard. It was because my fingers and eyes have different expectations of a keyboard as wide as a Nord Wave’s or a Waldorf XTk’s rather than one that is clearly intended for use as a small USB MIDI controller.

To be fair, there is still room for improvement in the Laboratory and, in particular, I would like to see the MIDI channel assignment made more flexible in Scene mode. Furthermore, the review was not entirely without glitches, but these were either harmless (such as the ‘amazing but easily resolved disappearing GUI trick’ that I could perform at will when I had multiple instances running in DP7) or could be prevented by avoiding arcane ways of doing things. (When all else failed, as it did on only one occasion, a suggestion from Arturia’s support people quickly identified and resolved the problem.) But these are minor niggles. The laboratory does what it promises, and in general does it very well indeed.

Conclusions

For players who love the sounds of classic analogue synths but have no desire to learn how to wring the best out of complex control panels, the Analogue Experience series, with its huge selection of high quality, easily accessible, and tweakable VA sounds, remains unparalleled. Moreover, within this series, the Laboratory — with its enhanced hardware, scenes and rhythms — is very clearly the pick of the bunch.

But it’s more than that. When I concluded my review of the Player and Factory I wrote, “Let’s be clear, these are no über‑synths that allow you to create outrageous, never‑heard‑before sounds.” Sure, if you don’t own any of Arturia’s V-series soft synths, this remains true but, with the synths present, the Laboratory also becomes a powerful librarian and editor that centralises access and control over all of the Arturia synths loaded onto your computer. So I now have the answer to the question that I posed at the start of this review. Is there room above the Factory for a bigger and better ‘Experience’? Yes, there is.    

Published in SOS January 2012