Still Groundbreaking? The Drama of the ROLAND CSQ-100 and KORG MS-20

My son.
Nowadays, we live in an era where you can do anything with just one computer.

But back in my day, it was different.

It was around 1980.
My room back then was in a company-leased
apartment in Koriyama.
It was right behind the factory, and even during the day, the sun never shone in,
a dim and damp environment.

That was when I first started getting into synthesizers.

On my desk sat a
ROLAND CSQ-100 sequencer and a
KORG MS-20 analog synth.

The smell of the rubber cables, and
that unique scent when the machine warmed up.

In the quiet room,
only a thin, electronic "beep" floated in the air.

Sound was something you "created."

The MS-20, you see, isn't straightforward.

Even if you pressed the keys,
it was just a sound.

From there on,
you had to twist knobs, plug in cables, pull them out again, and
just "search" for the sound.

With just the slightest difference,
the sound would rage, sink, and show a different face.

There were no finished sounds like there are now.

You made everything yourself.

That's why,
there was no end in sight.

Late at night, time stood still.

I looked at the clock, and it was already the middle of the night.

Outside, everything was silent.

I was there,
all alone, facing the machines.

No matter how many hours I spent,
it wouldn't turn into music.

Just noise.
Just a failure.

Honestly, I was starting to want to give up.

And then, that moment came.

“...I guess I'll make this the last one.”

Thinking that,
I swapped just one cable.

That was the moment.

The air changed.

“...Oh?”

The sounds that had been scattered until just a moment ago,
suddenly began to have 'meaning'.

In a panic,
I punched the phrase into the ROLAND CSQ-100.

Click, click, the loop was marked out indifferently.

And then,
the sound of the KORG MS-20 was layered on top.

It surged. It swayed. It breathed.

Even though it was just a machine,
it felt just like a living thing.

The room had 'changed'.

My son.

Back then, the air in the room changed.

The space that had been just a six-mat room until a moment ago,
suddenly felt like a 'studio'.

Same equipment, same room, same night.

But,
the moment the sounds connected, the world changed.

This was,
my very first "musical experience."

This isn't a performance.

That wasn't a performance.

It was a dialogue.

When I touched it,
the machine would respond.

Expectations were easily betrayed.

But that was the beauty of it.

That's why I lost track of time.

Before I knew it, morning was near.

Things that only exist within inconvenience

Today's equipment is perfect.

But,
there are things that only exist within the inconveniences of those days.

The time spent lost.
The mountain of failures.
And that one single "moment of connection."

That,
is not something you can get easily.

If I recall correctly,
you would press the keyboard scale, then press the sequencer step button.
I think it was a mind-numbing task of repeating that 168 times.
I don't remember how we specified the musical notes.

Also, I remember that with the MS-20,
tuning was even harder than patching.

I used to do this kind of thing bit by bit on the weekends.
Could it be that this was actually fun?
Now, I'm starting to think so.