Great little article from nearly a decade ago about Robert Moog’s filter that shaped the sound of synthesizer music. Oddly enough, while the article mentions some of the Moog module’s prices, it doesn’t actually mention the price of the ladder filter. Having been researching lately exactly what Tangerine Dream would have been working with at any given moment on Phaedra, I happen to have the 1969 Moog price list (PDF) in front of me – $730 for the full-fledged 904 Voltage-Controlled Filter. That’s about $4,900 dollars today, nearly ten times as much as Moog’s current ladder filter. Bonus link: Robert Moog’s patent number 3,475,623: Electronic High-pass and Low-pass filters employing the base to emitter diode resistance of bi-polar transistors (PDF).
Field recording of found sounds is a rather crucial aspect of the sort of sound design that interests me. Diving deep enough into this area, one will inevitably wish to experiment with contact microphones. Contact microphones are unlike ‘normal’ microphones in that they don’t really respond to air vibrations. But they are quite good at picking up the vibrations of solids (or, in the case of sealed hydrophones, liquids) that they’re attached to. This is a lot of fun, but there’s one problem – due to an impedance mismatch, they aren’t going to sound very good when connected to a normal microphone input. Compare this matched recording with this recording from a standard mic input.
The typical solution will be to go through a DI box or dedicated preamp. For a portable, minimal setup, this is far from ideal. I figured at some point, someone would have had to have come up with a portable recorder designed with sound design in mind, and containing inputs suitable for a range of microphones. I came up empty-handed. Then it occurred to me, this is really the same problem that guitar pickups have – they need a high impedance (Hi-Z) input for proper frequency range reproduction. Perhaps a portable recorder for guitarists exists. It does, and let me just say that the Tascam GT-R1 makes an awesome little field recorder.
Aside from the (1⁄4″ TS) Hi-Z input, the GT-R1 has a built-in stereo mic pair, a 1⁄8″ TRS mic input with optional ~2.2V plug-in power, and a 1⁄8″ TRS line input. The mic preamp has three levels of gain available, and both the mic and Hi-Z inputs are attenuated by means of an analog dial on the side of the unit. The built in mic pair sounds good and is quite sensitive. Gain on the Hi-Z input could stand to be a bit higher for contact mic purposes, and all inputs could stand to be a bit cleaner, but these are rather trivial compromises for such a versatile handheld recorder.
For the most part, the UI is very easily and intuitively navigated. A large record button is surrounded by a red LED ring that blinks upon first press to indicate that the recorder is armed, and then of course goes solid as the second press begins recording. Input switching requires a hop into a menu, where related settings (gain, mic power, monitor) also conveniently live. Unlike Tascam’s current multitrackers, audio is recorded directly as WAV files onto the SD card – no clunky export process. Likewise, if I edit any of these files on my computer and save them back onto the card, the GT-R1 will play whatever WAVs are tossed on the card1.
Speaking of multitracking, since this thing exists to casually record guitar sessions, it actually has a minimalist multitracking ability. Once the recorder is armed, the user can opt to start a blank recording or overdub the active recording. These overdubs go into new files, the active file is not overwritten. I’m not sure I’ll ever really need to use this, but it’s neat that it’s there and easily accessed. Another neat guitar-centric tool belied by the device’s voice-recorder appearance is looped playback with custom in/out points. Points are easily set during playback (for precision) or while paused, and then playback will loop until the points are cleared. Aside from a rhythm section and some basic effects that I’ll never use, there is one additional nicety due to the unit’s primary function: the ability to shift playback speed and/or pitch. This combined with the looping affords me a lot of flexibility if I just want to plug the output right into my Eurorack.
Negatives? Well, to start, you’re stuck with that ~2.2V plug-in power mic input – no 48V phantom-powered XLRs here. That’s pretty limiting as far as external mics are concerned, although fortunately there seems to be a bit more of a market for plug-in power mics what with amateur DSLR videography taking off2. The unit is inexplicably bright red, which I guess makes it faster, but not terribly appealing. The biggest drawback, I suppose, is that the GT-R1 has been discontinued, and used prices seem to be all over the place. Any other quibbles are quite minor – the use of mini instead of micro USB, digital monitor level controls, and the somewhat sluggish startup time. Not dealbreakers by any means.
I got my GT-R1 for under $100, which I think was a steal. It’s been serving me really well, and I would pay more if I ever had to to replace it. The two audio samples in the first paragraph were recorded on the GT-R1, in the Hi-Z and mic inputs respectively.
Hopefully we all know by now that computers are not good at coming up with random numbers. They can do a bunch of tricky math and come up with numbers that are random enough for dealing your hand of solitaire, but some outside random force is necessary for tasks where patterns, repetition simply cannot occur. One such method involves counting radioactive decay events, and it occurred to me that Americium-241 is readily and affordably accessible – it’s in any good smoke detector. Now, I don’t have a need for this, nor do I intend to go dismantling smoke detectors, but I was curious if anyone else had proof-of-concepted such a thing before, and lo – here we have one such example. Neat.
Yesterday, Apple announced the iMac Pro, an all-in-one machine purchasable with up to an 18-core Xeon processor. I can’t tell if this is a machine for me or not (I love Xeon Macs but not iMacs so much), but I also have no real reason to think about that beyond fantasy – I’m only on my 2nd Xeon Mac, and I expect to get a few more years out of it. They age well. The current, oft-maligned Mac Pro smashed an impressive amount of tech into a rather small, highly optimized space. It may lack the expansion necessary for typical Pro users, but it is a technological masterpiece. The new iMac, however, seems like an impossible feat1.
What truly excites me is the reinforcement that Apple is committed to its Xeon machines. The iMac Pro is not the mysterious upcoming Mac Pro. So while tech pundits have lamented the inevitable death of the Mac Pro in recent years, Apple has instead doubled down and will be offering two Xeon Macs rather than zero.
One final thought that is more dream than anything – Apple prides itself on its displays, and on its Pencil/digitizer in the iPad Pro. A lot of artists use pro software on iMacs with Cintiq digitizers. Cintiqs are top-of-the-line, but that doesn’t make them great. The digitizers are decent, the displays themselves are alright, but they aren’t spectacular devices – they’re just the best thing out there. I don’t expect Apple to move to a touch-friendly macOS, their deliberate UI choices show that this is a clear delineation between macOS and iOS. But I think working the iPad Pro’s Pencil/digitizer into an iMac2 could very well prove to be a Cintiq killer for illustrators, photographers, and other visual artists.
The Lenovo Yoga Book is a bizarre little machine. It’s unbelievably thin, and hosts a wee 10” display, netbookish almost. Unfold it, like a laptop, to reveal the secret to its thinness – a blank slate where the keyboard should be. Powering the device on, the ‘halo keyboard’, as it is known, glows. It is what it sounds like – a glowing, flat, touch-sensitive keyboard. It is the price paid for a 9.6mm thick, 1.5lb device that still manages a laptop form factor.
Now, I value a good keyboard. My primary keyboard uses Alps switches, my primary laptop is a Lenovo X220 that types rather well. This is neither of those. This is not a good keyboard, it’s a flat slab. But I’ve spent enough time typing on tablets that, a strategy of muscle memory combined with occasional glances down to reorient my fingers means I can type reasonably quick and with reasonable accuracy.
My use case is pretty simple – I spend nearly four hours every day on a train, but I still don’t like carrying a lot with me. I had been taking a Microsoft keyboard which I could sort of, kind of rig up with my iPhone and type nicely into Buffer Editor with. It works well when seated at a desk, but the unadjustable angle and possibility of the phone just flopping out made it suboptimal for the train. Physical keyboards take up space – the Yoga Book manages to be thinner than just that Microsoft keyboard, though obviously larger in the other two dimensions. But it opens like a compact, it can unfold to any angle (including all the way back to just be a really thick tablet), and just has a much more lappable presence. Also, since it’s running Windows 10, I get a real operating system and filesystem (by this I mean WSL or cygwin), I get real USB (OTG), and a solid software selection. An Android version is also available (for $50 less), but even if I didn’t hate Android, that just seems like a bad plan for as much as they have customized it. It does have an autocorrect feature, however, which the Windows version lacks.
I’ll continue using this thing on the train and finding out its compromises. It is obviously compromised. It’s doing strange new things, and it’s really positioned more for people who want to use the digitizer. Which, yeah, the whole keyboard area can be dimmed and turned into a pressure-sensitive digitizer, either with a typical stylus nib or with an actual ballpoint pen on a paper tablet set atop the surface. I guess I should mess with that more. But for my use-case, so far so good. It’s no Matias Alps keyboard, but it’s very typable, it’s very light, and very compact. I wrote this entire post on the Yoga Book, and didn’t feel like I was suffering1. It’s like a tablet where I can type without obstructing half of my screen.
Assuming the leaked images of the new MacBook Pro are to be believed (and there seems to be no reason to think otherwise), tomorrow will bring MacBook Pros with a tiny touch strip display above the number row instead of a set of physical keys. It looks like a more practical version of the much-maligned Lenovo Carbon X1 concept. Yet, like the X1, it’s part of a bigger change that makes for an overall worse keyboard experience – in the case of the leaked MBP images, the physical keys themselves are moving to the slim-but-unloved keys from the MacBook.
As is to be expected whenever Apple announces something new, a lot of shit is being flung around in the tech sphere over the iPhone 7 and 7 Plus. One particularly fun nugget is that the secondary camera lens on the 7 Plus’s dual-camera system is not, despite what Apple says, a telephoto lens. This is based on a few mixed-up notions from people who know just enough about photography to think they know a lot: namely that ‘telephoto’ is synonymous with ‘long’, and that 56mm (135 equivalence, when will this die) is ‘normal’ (and therefore not
‘long’ ‘telephoto’). 50mm was standardized on the 135 format because Oskar Barnack said so, essentially. Different versions of the story say that the 50 was based on a known cine lens design, or that glass to make the 50 was readily available, or that it was necessary to fill the new large image circle, but whatever the original motivating factor was – the original Leica I set a new standard with the 135 film format, and a new standard somewhat-longer-than-normal focal length with its Elmar 50/3.5. The idea behind normalcy is matching our eyesight. This, conveniently, tends to match up with the length of the diagonal of the imaging plane; √(24²+36²)≅43mm. 50 is already noticeably longer than this, and 56 even more so. There’s a reason 55-60mm lenses were popular as more portrait-capable ‘normals’.
I previously discussed my overall dissatisfaction with mice these days. I bit the $150 bullet, and decided to try the Swiftpoint GT. A lot of people love this mouse. It has 4.2 stars on Amazon. It nearly octupled its Kickstarter funding goal. It’s natural, it’s ergonomic, it’s gestural. In theory. In practice, it feels to me like it’s been built of outmoded tech and interaction paradigms in order to fabricate a simulacrum of a hypermodern interaction experience. In practice, it’s still a clicky, line-at-a-time scroll wheel. Sure, you can sort-of-kind-of mimic touchpad scrolling by rolling it on your table, but doing so won’t feel any less clicky nor awkward. In practice, the gestural ‘stylus’ is just a tiny upside-down joystick that only works when you find just the right place to tilt it to, that you have to maintain just the right pressure to hold, and that you ultimately still fail to get a smooth navigation experience out of. Neither of these interactions were comfortable, and they both proved better at marring my (admittedly delicately finished) table than anything else.
August 21, 2016, I tweet: “why are there no good mice.” It’s a reality I’ve been battling for months now: seemingly nobody else wants the same things out of a mouse that I do. And as I’ve tried to replace my beloved Magic Mouse with something just a little more, I’ve come up with a pretty clear list of what these things are:
- Inertial scrolling (by touch or wheel, I do not care)
- Biaxial scrolling
- AA or AAA batteries
- Functional middle click
The original Magic Mouse hits all of these points, and perhaps I should just stock up on a few of these before they disappear, without searching for something more.
I’m writing this from Tuckahoe State Park, the first leg of a multinight car camping trip which I (for practice, I suppose) opted to treat like a backpacking trip. My goal was to fit everything, aside from food (handled as a group), that I needed in or on a 30L pack for the one evening here followed by three in the sand at Assateague Island. Good way to try out a few things for when I ordinarily need to pack food but fewer clothes. So, why am I wasting precious pack space on a writing device?