Want a Synthesizer? Go Ahead, Take One.
One Tuesday a month, a small crowd packs into Tim Cox’s studio in the Brooklyn Navy Yard to commune with synthesizers. In one corner, a 20-something visitor plugs candy-colored cables into a complicated rig that pushes a wall of noise out of nearby speakers.
Nearby, a middle-aged player in a Mets cap twirls and flicks the 100-plus knobs and switches of a 40-pound instrument called the GRP A4, which is the size of a large air-conditioner.
First it sounds like a spaceship, then the ocean, then a thumping dance floor, before settling on a jagged beep with a satisfying crunch. “People will play something and be like, ‘That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard in my life, and I can’t believe I made it,’” said Mr.
Cox, a synth enthusiast who has seen many such “ear perk moments,” as he calls them, in his time hosting the gatherings. “If I shared this stuff with my friends, they’d say it sounds like a dishwasher.
