Analogue Synthesizer
Reviews : Keyboard
The Voyager Old School sees Moog returning to
their roots, but is there a place for an all-analogue, 1970s-style synth
in the 21st century?
At its inception, the
Minimoog was surprisingly close to being the perfect solo synthesizer.
Indeed, you could argue that there's not a serious rival for the role
even today. Yet soloists demand to express themselves — and there the
Mini had obvious shortcomings. For a start, its keyboard lacked velocity
and aftertouch, while the pitch-bender and modulation wheels never felt
like the final word in performance control. Nevertheless, without
becoming lost in the enigma that is the Minimoog, let's agree that it
must have possessed special qualities to set it apart from the crowd for
so long — even from others in the Moog stable. Would we ever see its
like again?
In 2001, rumours began to circulate
of a revised, regenerated Minimoog, followed by a competition to name
Bob Moog's latest progeny. The resulting Minimoog Voyager answered the
prayers of many. It was, after all, a monophonic analogue synthesizer
from Moog featuring Moog oscillators, Moog filters, wood, MIDI, a
responsive keyboard, patch memories and knobs and components that were
shiny and new. Throw in patch points for extra control, a dedicated LFO,
oscillator sync and waveform modulation and you'd think all the boxes
had been ticked. However, some amongst the analogue community worked
themselves into a lather, convinced that grafting menus onto a Mini was
tantamount to nailing a humbucker pickup to a Stradivarius. Some saw it
as cheating to dial up a patch from memory rather than making your own,
on the spot, every time. Not even Bob Moog, it seemed, could please
everyone.
Well, the beardy types' wailing and
gnashing of teeth can cease, because there's another new Moog in town —
one that rejects all things digital. Ladies and gentlemen, let me
present the Moog Voyager Old School!
WYSIWYG
The Minimoog Voyager OS may take an old school
approach but it is, of course, brand spanking new. It's still
essentially a Voyager, and therefore a far more complex design than the
handful of transistors that comprised the original Mini. However, this
Voyager has been stripped back to its analogue heart, losing the
upgradable operating system, LCD, menus, patch memories, MIDI and even
the (analogue) touch surface.
As the two synths
are so intimately related, I'd advise you to revisit Gordon Reid's
comprehensive review of the Voyager from June 2003's SOS. Here, like
some twisted dentist, I'll ponder the impact of the extractions — and
will doubtless wallow in nostalgia along the way. After all, merely
glancing at the Old School takes me back to my youth — to a time when
what you saw really was what you got. This Moog is that rarest of
creatures: a modern synthesizer built with ergonomics, layout and style
in mind. This is no exercise in feature cramming!
Weighing
in at a hefty 18kg, the Old School is a serious contender. If you
admired the standard Voyager, I think you'll agree its latest sibling
wins any posing contest between them — without even needing to pout. The
wood finish is superb, the feel of the knobs top-notch, and the 44-key
(F to C) keyboard is a delight — it certainly beats any vintage Model D
I've played for both speed and responsiveness.
On
first power-up, the solitary pulsing LED of the Low Frequency
Oscillator is understated in comparison to the extravagant light-shows
of other Voyager models. This reserved façade blends more naturally
amongst older synthesizers, and the lack of a backlit panel or glowing
mod wheel should banish any fears of extraneous electrical noise.
No
Minimoog would look right without its familiar tilting panel. This one
offers five operating positions, although (as Gordon observed in his
original review), the wooden case is too close to the rear jack sockets
to allow you to use them when the panel is laid flat. Looking closely,
you'll see that the panel is actually a printed laminate affair similar
to those seen on Dave Smith's recent instruments — all very clear and
logical. Scanning from left to right, we find the modulation section,
consisting of an LFO and two modulation busses. Then the three VCOs,
mixer, dual filters, envelopes and, finally, a big, friendly volume
knob. Being both right-handed and a compulsive tweaker, I'd love to
encounter a panel laid out in exactly the opposite direction, since the
filter and envelope knobs seem to be where my left hand travels most
often. Fortunately, the angled panel negates any crossed-arm
obstructions!
Adjacent to every control is a
pale-blue mark. This is your designated safe escape route, presumably
for when it all goes horribly wrong. Once upon a time we patiently
learned to program our synthesizers with patch-book examples and
cardboard overlays. Frankly, Moog are the last company I'd have expected
to print a 'default' patch on one of its synths — an indelible set of
'L' plates!
Mildly exasperated, I turned to the
rear (or upper) panel, which is largely the same as the Voyager's. This
means lots of quarter-inch voltage inputs (11 in total) for interfacing
with expression pedals, or modular gear such as Moog's own
Moogerfoogers. An effects loop insert point is provided too, ideal for
plumbing in external effects after the mixer section and before the
filters. This is one of those simple additions that prove to be
genuinely worthwhile in practice and had me digging out a wide
collection of old effects processors. Adjacent to the insert point, the
external audio input is on hand to process any source you fancy —
including the Old School's own headphone output. This version of the
Minimoog trick sounds a trifle different in this incarnation; indeed,
with the levels cranked up it threw up some of the most extreme (and
occasionally scary) noises in the Old School's repertoire.
Cape Capers
Scary noises aside, this is a synthesizer that you
will want to play — then play some more. Keyboard heroes can emerge from
the shadows at last, because the Old School spills forth wave upon wave
of rich Moogyness. If you can't cut through with this, then maybe you
should invest in a chainsaw instead.
Familiarisation
with the controls took literally seconds, after which I started to get
the kind of buzz that took me back to my earliest days discovering
synths. The first area I turned to was modulation — perhaps the most
significant upgrade from Minimoog architecture. This consists of two
identical modulation busses, each offering six modulation sources
routable to six destinations via any of a list of six controllers. I
thought this synth was a beast, but I didn't realise it was The Beast!
The sources available differ from those of a standard Voyager; they
include the three VCOs, the LFO, the noise generator and an external
modulation input. These may be routed to overall pitch, the pitch of
Oscillator 2 or 3, filter cutoff, oscillator wave or LFO rate.
Wave
modulation is something you couldn't do at all on a Minimoog, and the
only drawback here is that it affects all oscillators — or none; you
can't specify a single VCO wave to be modulated. If this isn't as
flexible as you might like, it does at least keep things simple. The
controller component of the modulation bus has the usual suspects: mod
wheel, velocity, aftertouch and both envelopes, plus an external CV or
expression pedal.
Lacking the menu options of
the standard Voyager, the Old School benefits from more modulation
controllers on its panel. But as there are only two busses and three
main performance controllers, you might not be able to do everything you
want in a single patch. For example, if you route velocity to the
filter cutoff and aftertouch to wave modulation, you can't then bring
the mod wheel into play — the two busses are already fully booked.
Here's where that optional VX351 CV Expander (see 'CV Concerns' box)
starts to look anything but.
LFOs & VCOs
I'm
sure we all agree that a dedicated LFO is a vital thing to have. This
one has a base range of approximately 0.2Hz up to 50Hz, but can be
extended considerably by means of a positive or negative voltage at its
CV input. There are just four waveforms available: triangle, square,
sample-and-hold and smoothed sample-and-hold. Oddly there's no sawtooth —
but sawtooth hunters will be pleased to know that, as per the Minimoog,
you can draft in one of the three main oscillators for additional
low-frequency duty. There's even a switch to deactivate it from the
keyboard too, just like old times.
In stark
contrast to my own (now departed) Mini, the VCOs behaved impeccably,
stabilising after just a few minutes and staying that way. Oscillator
1's pitch is set by the main fine-tune control, with the other two
oscillators detunable over a range of seven semitones, up or down. The
oscillators sound great — from their lowest 32' setting right up to 1',
an octave that comes into its own when you start to explore another
'post Model D' trick — Frequency Modulation. At the flick of a switch,
VCO3 becomes the FM source for VCO1, serving up wild excesses of
discordant metallic tones, adding bite to any solo.
Speaking
of bite, I was recently impressed by Moog's Freqbox and its rich
oscillator sync, and I'm even happier with the Old School's
implementation. Draft in a modulation bus giving aftertouch control over
Oscillator 2's frequency, and you're in sync heaven. I'm guessing Moog
improved the aftertouch response after the original review, because I
found it played very well, second only to Korg's Prophecy in my own
'pressure hit parade'.
Filters & Envelopes
The
original Minimoog's single low-pass filter was enough to make it
legendary. The Old School has two of them and a switch that determines
which configuration you want: parallel low-pass mode or serial high- and
low-pass. Choose parallel and each filter is routed to a separate audio
output; choose serial and audio is sent equally to both.
As
has been said before, Moog don't provide a way to access each filter's
cutoff frequency individually. Instead, a spacing control sets the
interval between them over a range of +/- three octaves. Switch into
High-pass/Low-pass mode and you enter thin and raspy territory; if
you're looking to break away from blatant Moog power, this could become a
favourite, with filter spacing acting as a direct thin/fat control.
The
ADSR envelopes are positioned vertically and offer a snappy response
rated between one millisecond and 10 seconds. I wasn't particularly
taken by the way the knobs are calibrated. In the case of attack, the
bulk of the knob's travel is occupied by the fastest attacks, and in the
case of release, a large portion of the knob's movement translates to
very short release times; only the last sliver of pie is available to
set a range between one second and maximum. On the review model, this
maximum was over 20 seconds, so finding accurate release times proved
rather finicky. It's likely that my solos are just too slow and 'new
agey', but this is something to be aware of when you audition an Old
School.
As with the Minimoog, the envelopes
default to single triggering. This suits my noodly style perfectly — but could be troublesome if you need fast, articulated phrasing. In such
cases, multi triggering is available, but is activated by powering on
while holding down the top two keys of the keyboard. Not something you'd
want to do live! You must also do this every time multi-triggering is
needed, as the status is not remembered. The keyboard employs last-note
priority rather than the Minimoog's low-note bias, which I think is an
improvement. Lastly, a switch will deactivate keyboard triggering of the
envelopes — handy when processing external signals via the filters.
Conclusion
If,
before the release of the first Voyager, you had asked me what I would
hope to find in a modern Minimoog, it wouldn't have been a hundred miles
from the Voyager OS. Its full title, 'Minimoog Voyager Old School', is a
bit of a mouthful, though; how nice it would have been to simply say
Minimoog Model E! This synth is just as comfortable in a lead
performance role as the Model D was all those years ago. One look at the
panel and you know exactly where you are; its controls feel just right
and they're ergonomically spaced for unimpeded access to a wealth of
Moog tones. You're not stuck in the past, though: the Old School has way
more to offer, thanks to a dedicated LFO, oscillator sync, FM and the
dual filter arrangement. Factor in the twin modulation bus and
rear-panel interfacing and the options seem to grow exponentially.
There
are 896 patches in a V3 Voyager, but I warrant a skilled Old School
performer should be able to rustle up the sound he or she wants in the
time it takes to locate a favourite amongst that lot — with the
advantage that each time it will be a little different. Don't go for an
Old School if you insist on absolute repeatability in your music;
without memories to draw from, the synthesizer player is forced not to
memorise (or write down) each favourite patch but to understand the
instrument so deeply that it becomes intuitive. At £500 less than a
Voyager Performer, the Old School could be both a money saver and an
education.
Not everything in the garden is rosy,
however. Dropping MIDI seems a cut too many when faced with the
challenge of sequencing the Old School via the CV input. A lesser gripe
is the difficulty of setting long attack and release times accurately.
Admittedly, this could be more about my preference for a particular
style of flowing solo than a serious complaint. Actually, if I had to
name just one thing that genuinely bugged me, it's those 'default' patch
markings. They really spoil an otherwise elegant panel. Yes, I'm a
grumpy old man to get fixated on such things — but have we really dumbed
down so much in the space of 30 years that this is necessary?
To
sum up, the Voyager's digital bits were never part of its signal path
anyway, but if you feel that this new-fangled MIDI lark and patch
memories are cheating, or if you simply dream of a modern, reliable,
simple-to-use Moog, the Voyager Old School is exactly what the doctor
ordered.
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