Virtual Analogue Modelling Synthesizer
Reviews : Keyboard
It's named in honour of
everyone's favourite giant ape, but will Korg's new keyboard scale the
heights or be shot down in flames? Find out in our exclusive review...
When rumours of Korg's new products leaked out a few days before the recent NAMM Convention, conspiracy theorists briefly ceased questioning whether the royal family are lizards, and leapt to their keyboards to announce that the KingKorg was a hoax. Their reasoning, for the most part, was that the name couldn't possibly be true. Someone was playing games with the poor, gullible keyboard-buying public, and we needed protecting by those with access to higher knowledge. Of course, the KingKorg (which I shall henceforth call the KK) duly appeared a few days later, and it then stimulated a very different response from those who had, um, never doubted that it was real in the first place. Now, the discussion turned to whether something that looked like a full-sized virtual analogue synth was what the world wanted from Korg in 2013. That was a much better question, and one that deserves answering.
Timbre Frames
The KingKorg's forthcoming librarian software will allow users to edit the program list and manage patches.
First things first. The KK is a digital synth, and its heart pumps binary blood called XMT, or Expanded Modelling Technology. OK, so that should be EMT, but let's not quibble... The name is clearly intended to suggest that it's the next step forward from the Multiple Modelling Technology that powers the Radias, R3 and MicroKorgs.
Its fundamental building block is the Timbre, which
comprises three oscillators, a filter and its associated ADSR contour
generator, an amplifier and its ADSR contour generator, plus a pair of
sync'able LFOs. With the exception of the third oscillator, this is
possibly the closest you'll ever find to a 'standard' polysynth
architecture.
You can select from 126 initial waveforms: 32 analogue
in nature, an extended set of 64 DWGS (Digital Waveform Generator
System) waveforms, and 30 PCM (Pulse Code Modulation) samples. If you
select an analogue wave, you can then adjust one or two parameters to
further shape it into things such as supersaws and PWM waves. Other
modifications include things such as decimation and decay on the noise
sources (which suggests all manner of percussion sounds), detune amount
on the dual and unison oscillators, and the modulation pitches (and,
where appropriate, modulation depths) within the sync, ring modulation,
cross-mod and FM oscillators. What's more, you can control all of these
parameters dynamically. The DWGS waveforms are just as interesting
because they are themselves dual oscillators that can be detuned and
subject to VPM (frequency modulation) to create another huge range of
initial sounds ranging from hybrid analogue/digital to full-blown FM.
Understandably, the PCM samples have no such parameters, but they
nonetheless provide a useful range of additional waves including pianos,
Clavinets, organs, brass, strings, choirs and so on.
The outputs of the oscillators are mixed and then
passed to the filter section, which offers 18 filter options. Five of
these were developed specifically for the KK, but the others will be of
more interest to aficionados because they are modelled on the Minimoog,
Prophet 5, SEM, MS20 and TB303. From the clean sweeps of the King and
Moog models to the tortured screams and burblings of the MS20 and TB303,
the KK offers a huge range of filter characteristics.
A second screen provides information about the currently selected Program. It doesn't allow you to edit anything, but it's a useful aide-mémoire.You might think that the audio amplifier would offer nothing but gain controlled by its envelope or any modulation sources routed to it, but there are also pan and keyboard tracking parameters, plus something called 'Punch'. If the contours are fast enough, this adds a percussive element to the start of each note. Think of it as hugely exaggerated Hammond percussion, and you won't go far wrong.
This then brings us to the modulation matrix, which
offers six Virtual Patches, each with a source, a destination, and an
amount. There are 12 sources: both envelope generators, both LFOs (which
each offer seven waveforms including random and sample & hold, and
a frequency range of 0.01Hz to 100Hz), the two joystick axes (with Y+
and Y- counting as separate sources), velocity, key tracking, and your
choice of up to three MIDI controllers. You can route these with
positive or negative polarity to no fewer than 41 destinations, so
there's no shortage of modulation options.
Unlike many polysynths, the Timbre provides two
dedicated monophonic modes (one with multi-triggering, one without) that
enable you to play it like a true monosynth. There's also Unison, with
a maximum of four voices per note and programmable detune and spread
across the soundstage. Add to this portamento and random pitch errors to
simulate analogue instabilities, and that completes the voicing at the
Timbre level.
Get With The Programs
A Program comprises one or two Timbres (called A and B), either layered across the whole keyboard or placed either side of a user-definable split point. You can copy Timbres from one Program to another, and you can allocate them to independent MIDI channels, thus making the KK bi-timbral.
There are a number of facilities that act within the
Program as a whole. The first is the 16-band vocoder. This uses Timbre
A or B, or a user-defined mix of both, as the carrier, and either the
mic input or Timbre B as the modulator, with both having a 'straight
through' setting that allows you to mix the vocoded signal with the
modulator for those wondrous 'Jon & Vangelis' vocal effects.
Parameters such as Formant Shift and Formant Hold control the
frequencies of the filters that create the effect, and you can use these
to create all manner of new sounds by vocoding obscure waveforms,
shifting the filters around, using unison, chorusing the results and so
on. Unfortunately, I was unable to find a way to vocode B with itself
(Timbre A always has to be present), and there's no way to employ the
mic signal as both the carrier and the modulator. This was my favourite
trick on the Roland VP330, as it produces ghostly sounds that can't
easily be obtained by other means.
There are three Program effects units, each of which
offers six effects types, with up to two manually adjustable (and
MIDI-controllable) parameters for each. Very useable they are too, but
there are some anomalies. For example, why would anyone place the
e-piano and guitar amp/cab models at the start of the effects chain? You
can't apply chorus or phasing to a sound after it has come out of
a speaker cabinet, so that makes no sense at all. On a more positive
note, you can apply each effect section to Timbre A, or Timbre B, or
both. This means that, if you want to do things such as play a Wurlitzer
sound through the e-piano amp/cab while playing a guitar sound through
a chorus unit, and then apply reverb to both, you can do so.
The last stages in the audio chain are the valve
overdrive and a two-band (high/low) EQ. These are not programmable, and
their actions are always determined by their top-panel controls. When
I first played the KK, it seemed very thin, and I only later discovered
that bass knob in the EQ was turned almost fully anti-clockwise. So
check these settings frequently. If your audience is expecting
a jaw-dropping, wrath-of-God bass note, you're going to look pretty
silly if nothing more than a timid squeak emerges!
Finally, we come to the arpeggiator, which offers the
expected facilities. You can apply this to either Timbre or both, as you
choose, which means that you can have an arpeggio running on one side
of the keyboard while playing conventionally on the other. You can also
transmit the output from the arpeggiator as a MIDI stream, or even
arpeggiate notes received at the MIDI In while sending those generated
by the keyboard to the MIDI Out without arpeggiation. (That's neat!)
With a common sync for the arpeggiator, the LFOs, and the delay effects,
some lovely results can be obtained.
You can save a sound into any of the 100 programmable
memories and allocate it to one of the nine Program categories. You
can't save to the other 200 locations, but I understand the reasoning.
Korg are marketing the KK to novices as well as experienced players, so
retaining a selection of bread-and-butter presets makes sense.
Nonetheless, 100 user memories is Spartan by modern standards.
The KK offers five banks of eight 'Favourite' Programs.
These are, in effect, 'live sets' that you can step through without
having to burrow through the 300 memories while on stage. ("Um... excuse
me. We'll start the next track as soon as I have found the right
patch...”) Given the fact that two-thirds of the KK's memory is forever
fixed, I feel that the Favourites are more of a necessity than a luxury,
so I was very pleased to see them included.
Happily, there's a Librarian in development, and the
chaps at Korg sent me a pre-release copy to test. I loaded the software,
launched it and, with the KK connected via USB, my Mac simply
downloaded the memory from the synth and was ready to go. (As usual,
PC/Windows users will have to install a hardware driver first, but this
will be available from Korg's web site.) Moving sounds around in the
Program list was simply a matter of dragging and dropping, duplicating
them required nothing more than Copying & Pasting, and setting up
banks of Favourites was just a question of dropping the wanted Programs
into position. All in all, it was a doddle.
A Light Touch
The KingKorg's straightforward front panel belies the complexity beneath.
The first thing you'll notice when using the KK is that it's light — so light that you'll have to remind yourself that it's a serious synthesizer. Having just played two consecutive nights using keyboards weighing around 100kg, I genuinely appreciate its manageability, but this comes at a price. Well, two prices.
Firstly, there's the wall-wart. In my view, external
power supplies are not serious, gigging devices and, since the KK is
being marketed as a performance synth, it should have an internal PSU
with a nice, robust IEC socket on the back.
Secondly, the KK's keyboard has a very light action.
This doesn't mean that it's bad; it's quite suitable for traditional
synth work. But, despite offering a range of velocity curves plus three
keyboard responses (normal, shallow and deep) on a per-Program basis,
I wouldn't choose to play piano solos on it. I also find it
disappointing that the KK lacks aftertouch. Korg are not the only
manufacturer to release a performance synth lacking this, and I wish
that they would all stop doing it.
The spacious control panel and the dedicated
oscillator/filter displays make it possible to program the KK with
a minimum of fuss, although the rotary encoders have a little more
wobble than I had expected and — as is common for their species — don't
always change values smoothly or return precisely to their default
values when asked to do so. Nevertheless, there are many nice touches
worthy of mention. Every parameter is available in one of two menus: the
Program menu and the Global menu. If a parameter is relevant, it's
visible; if it's not relevant (perhaps because a section is switched
off) it's not. That's neat, and if you prefer to edit in that fashion,
it's quick and simple to do so. You don't even have to scroll far to
find things. Touch a control in a relevant section, and the menu jumps
directly to the first item that relates to it.
You'll also find that some knobs double as
push-switches. So, for example, if you want to change the oscillator
type, you rotate the knob. If you want to jump between the families
(analogue, DWGS, PCM, and the vocoder) you press the knob the
appropriate number of times. It's very intuitive and, within minutes,
I found that I had plumbed the depths of the KK. Nothing is hidden,
nothing is arcane. Somebody has actually thought about this interface!
Nonetheless, I fear that Korg have overlooked an
important issue. All the frequently tweaked synthesis controls,
including the important filter cutoff and resonance knobs, are to the
right of the control panel. This makes the KK ideal for left-handed
players, but less so for people who play with their right hands while
tweaking with their left.
Sounds
Now we get to the nitty-gritty. How — and how good — does the KK sound? Let's start with those 200 presets. Like all factory sounds, it's unlikely that these will be precisely what you need, but they may give a good indication of the breadth and scope of the instrument. Having spent a few hours working through them, discovering many that I like as well as a couple that I don't (the acoustic pianos), my overriding impression was 'smooth'. Sure, the KK can be loud, piercing, shrill, deep, fat, noisy and all those other decorative words, but it never stops being smooth. One reason for this is its almost total lack of digital artifacts, which is impressive.
Programming the KK for myself, my first patch comprised
just a single sawtooth wave, a King1 low-pass filter, a smooth attack
and release, a touch of vibrato and some chorus. This was instant 1982,
and I quickly discovered that the KK excels at the simple but warm pads
that made the Polysix and Juno 60 so desirable. I then experimented with
further 'analogue' waveforms and waveshaping options. For example,
I used EG2 to sweep the waveshape of a single triangle wave and created
a delicate PPG-ish sound, even before invoking the filters, modulation,
effects, and all the other gubbins available. I then added a sine-wave
oscillator an octave below, shaped the sound more, and added some chorus
and reverb. Blimey! Now I was in Kawai K4 and Roland D50 territory!
Adding additional 'analogue' oscillators steered me
toward heavy polysynth territory and I found that, with up to three
oscillators per Timbre, two Timbres per program, and multiple types of
unison, the trick was to stop big, fat, mix-destroying pads and bass
sounds from pouring out of the KK. So my next patches were designed to
reveal any audible quantisation when tweaking knobs, and any zipper
noise when sweeping the filters at high resonances or when
self-oscillating. Happily, I failed to detect any quantisation or zipper
noise. However, this was when I finally heard some aliasing; the
self-oscillating filters will do so at the very tops of their frequency
ranges. Don't worry about it. You want smooth filter sweeps? You got
'em.
Next, I tried to emulate some of the hybrid sounds from
Korg's mid-'80s dual-oscillator DWGS synths, and lost a whole evening
rediscovering them. I often forget how much I like DWGS sounds, and how
useful they are. I also discovered that the VPM capabilities within each
DWGS oscillator are capable of taking the KK deep into territory often
reserved for conventional FM synthesis. This was an unexpected bonus.
Finally, it was time to experiment with the PCM waves.
Although there's a temptation to use these imitatively, there's much to
be gained by sculpting new sounds from them. I spent much of 1979 using
the external signal processor and filters of my MS20 to mangle the
sounds from my Logan String Melody 2, Crumar Organ and Hohner Pianet T
and, in a sense, the KK gives you all of this in a single instrument.
It's possible to program surprisingly good electric pianos, Mellotrons,
and much else from the PCM waves, but it would be a shame if this were
the limit of your use of them.
Strangely, there was only one part of the KK that
I barely touched throughout the review, and that was its valve 'boost'.
In part, this was because it's in the wrong place: it lies after the
rotary speaker and reverb effects, which is wrong. And, in part, it was
because it didn't give me the grungy overdrive that I had expected. But
while it may not be to my taste, I'm sure that some players will love
it. Unfortunately, it seems that you will need to take the KK to
a service centre should the valve ever need replacing.
Remarkably, given that this was a pre-production unit,
I found only one voicing error in the whole time that I was programming
and testing the KK. If you over-stress the engine using four-voice
unison, and then play repeated block chords with the sustain pedal
depressed (which is not as arcane as you might think) it generates tiny
clicks as voices are stolen, reinitialised and reallocated. These clicks
are not loud, but neither are they ameliorated by extending the
envelopes, so be careful.
Conclusions
Some new synths bear all the hallmarks of success, while the futures of others are less clear. On the positive side, the KK is simple for the beginner, it offers depth for the expert, its lack of digital artifacts is admirable, and you could carry one around on a skateboard. It sounds good, and it's more flexible that you might imagine, too. But then there's the price. I had imagined that the KK would complete with the likes of the Roland Gaia and the StudioLogic Sledge but, with a list price of $1299, it's in a different price band.
So perhaps a better way to look at the KK would be to
consider what it would cost to obtain this diversity of sounds and
effects from vintage equipment. Sure, it doesn't imitate a Prophet, an
MS20, a Minimoog, a DW8000, a Leslie, a Space Echo or anything else from
the original era of analogue synthesis, but it can sound very similar,
and it does a whole lot more besides. In the studio, it's undeniably
small and neat, and if I wanted to use the sounds of a bunch of analogue
synths on stage today, I certainly wouldn't sling a collection of
heavy, delicate, temperamental and valuable vintage instruments into the
back of the bus. With a bit of careful programming, a KK or two might
be just the ticket. And my roadies would love me forever. .
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