Synthesizers, Engagement, and the Myth of GAS

A framework for thinking clearly, choosing intentionally, and making music joyfully

Preface for the Skeptical Reader or What This Essay Is Not

If you are already thinking, “This sounds like a justification for buying gear,” or “I’ve heard all of this before,” that reaction makes sense. Synth culture has no shortage of rationalizations, hot takes, and recycled wisdom presented as revelation.

This essay is not asking you to abandon restraint or critical thinking. Quite the opposite. It asks whether the stories we tell about gear — especially GAS — actually help us think clearly, or whether they quietly prevent us from examining our motivations, habits, and responsibilities as adults engaged in a creative hobby.

This essay is not a buyers guide, a list of recommendations, or an argument for owning more (or fewer) synthesizers in any way.

It is not a rejection of minimalism, discipline, or focused practice, nor is it an endorsement of excess, impulse buying, or unchecked consumption.

It is not an attempt to settle long‑standing debates (analog vs digital, hardware vs software) or to declare winners in matters of taste.

You do not need to agree with every conclusion here for the framework to be useful. If it helps you articulate why a tool excites you, overwhelms you, or sits unused (and helps you take ownership of those outcomes) then it has done its job.

This essay is an attempt to replace moralized, emotionally charged narratives with clearer thinking, shared language, and personal responsibility — so that each synthesizer enthusiast can decide what genuinely serves their creativity.

This essay is available as a video essay if you prefer.

Introduction: Why Synth Culture Keeps Arguing With Itself

Synthesizer culture is vibrant, creative, opinionated — and oddly repetitive. The same arguments recur endlessly: analog versus digital, hardware versus software, minimalism versus excess, discipline versus indulgence. At the center of many of these debates sits a familiar villain: GAS — Gear Acquisition Syndrome. GAS is blamed for regret, overspending, distraction, and creative paralysis. It is spoken of as a disease, a force that “grabs” us, something external that hijacks otherwise rational synth enthusiasts.

I no longer find this explanation useful.

After years of buying, selling, regretting, re-buying, and finally stabilizing into a collection that consistently brings me joy, I’ve come to believe that most synth discourse is mis-aimed. The problem is not how many synthesizers someone owns. The problem is that we lack clear frameworks for understanding what synthesizers do, how they shape our behavior, and why we are drawn to them in the first place.

This essay proposes such a framework — one that combines technical understanding with philosophical responsibility. Its goal is not to tell anyone what to buy, but to help synth enthusiasts evaluate instruments in terms of engagement, intent, and joy rather than hype, guilt, or dogma.

Limitation, Constraint, and the Creative Misunderstanding

A well-meaning phrase circulates endlessly in creative circles: “limitations set you free.” Applied carefully, this idea has merit. Applied lazily, it becomes a moral cudgel.

What is usually meant by this phrase is not limitation at all, but constraint. A limitation is imposed from the outside or framed as deprivation. A constraint is chosen deliberately in service of a goal. These are not the same thing.

Selling instruments, refusing new tools, or shaming desire is often framed as creative discipline. In reality, it is frequently a holdover from the romantic notion that true art must emerge from suffering. If that works for someone, great. I am not interested in universalizing it.

Creativity thrives on inspiration and flow. For many of us, new tools are inspiring. New approaches to old tools are inspiring too. The key insight is this:

You do not constrain your tools. You constrain your approach.

Constraints belong to projects, not to identities. If someone says:

"This piece will only use three synths."
"This track will only use one oscillator per voice."
"This month I will explore one instrument deeply."

These are healthy, empowering constraints. They do not require abstinence, shame, or asceticism.

Synthesizers as Systems of Possibility

To think clearly about synthesizers, we need to simplify them — not into marketing slogans, but into functional categories. When shopping, comparing, or reflecting, I reduce every synthesizer into a small set of conceptual buckets. This is not a scientific model of synthesis; it is a decision-making model.

The Functional Capability Model

Every synthesizer can be understood in terms of:

Inputs – How information enters the instrument
- Keys, MIDI, CV/Gate, touch surfaces, controllers
Players – Systems that generate or transform note events
- Sequencers, arpeggiators, generative tools
Wave Sources – Where raw sound comes from
- Oscillators, samples, noise, external inputs
Shapers – How sound is transformed
- Mixers, filters, distortion, wavefolding, effects
Modulators – What brings sound to life over time
- Envelopes, LFOs, modulation sources and targets
Outputs – How sound leaves the instrument
- Audio outs, routing, headphones, integration options

This model allows us to compare instruments meaningfully without drowning in feature lists. Counting and characterizing these elements reveals scope, complexity, and creative potential — not quality or superiority.

Diagram: Engagement-Oriented Synth Evaluation

A synthesizer’s value does not live on either axis alone. Technical power without engagement overwhelms, while inspiration without functional depth quickly plateaus. Meaningful tools sit somewhere in the middle, aligned with the synth enthusiast’s intent. The following diagram loosely places various synthesizers on the hypothetical "value map" for some individual who uses each synth with very different intentions.

Example 1 - Minimoog Model D
Few wave sources, few shapers, limited modulation. High immediacy, low cognitive load. Engagement could focus on performance, muscle memory, and focused constraint.

Example 2 - Elektron Digitakt
Moderate functional scope paired with strong players (sequencing). Engagement leans towards constraint-based composition and iterative creativity (loops and variations).

Example 3 - Waldorf Iridium
Multiple complex wave sources, extensive shapers, deep modulation matrix. High expressive ceiling, higher cognitive load. Engagement may be through exploration, sound design, and long-term study.

Example 4 - Modular Systems
Extremely high functional scope with user-defined signal flow. Engagement depends almost entirely on the synth enthusiast’s tolerance for complexity and desire to design systems rather than play instruments.

Example 5 - Software Synths
Often dismissed in hardware-centric narratives, yet they can offer immense modulation depth and zero friction for experimentation. Engagement hinges on workflow preference, not legitimacy. (I didn't try to map this because they vary so wildly...but you get the idea.)

Engagement Matters More Than Ownership

Two synth enthusiasts can buy the same synthesizer and have completely different outcomes. One feels energized and productive. The other feels guilty, distracted, or disappointed. The difference is not the instrument — it is the relationship.

Regret tends to arise when:

A synth heavily overlaps with others we haven’t learned
Complexity exceeds our current desire for cognitive load
Desire is externalized (“GAS made me do it”)
Purchases substitute for engagement rather than enabling it

This is why I no longer find GAS a useful concept. GAS anthropomorphizes desire and shifts responsibility away from the individual. Wanting tools is not a pathology. Overspending and neglect are behavioral problems, not syndromes caused by objects.

Owning desire — saying “I want this, and here is why” — is healthier than pretending desire is an invading force.

A Checklist for Intentional Synth Evaluation

Use this checklist before (or after) acquiring an instrument:

Musical Intent

What kind of music do I want to explore right now?
Does this synth align with that exploration?

Functional Fit

How does this synth differ from what I already own?
Where does it sit in terms of inputs, shapers, and modulation?

Engagement Style

Will this inspire flow or require constant menu-diving?
Do I want depth, immediacy, or performance focus?

Constraint Potential

What constraints could I choose when using this synth?
Does it invite focused exploration or endless tweaking?

Bias Awareness

Am I responding to hype, nostalgia, or status signaling?
Would I want this if it were unlabeled or cheaper?

Responsibility Check

Can I afford it without stress or resentment?
Do I have the time and desire to engage with it?

If the answers feel grounded and honest, desire does not need justification.

Toward a Healthier Synth Culture

Synth culture does not need more rules. It needs better questions.

Instead of asking:

“Is this synth worth it?”
“Is GAS getting me?”

We might ask:

“What kind of engagement does this instrument invite?”
“What constraints will I choose when using it?”
“Does this tool bring me closer to the kind of music-making I enjoy?”

Synthesizers are not moral tests. They are instruments — extensions of curiosity, play, and expression. Intentionality matters regardless of budget; this framework applies as much to choosing one free plugin as to buying a flagship instrument.

When I walk into my studio now, I don’t see regret. I see an orchestra. Each instrument has a role, a personality, and a reason for being there. I am the conductor. The responsibility — and the joy — is mine.

That, to me, is a healthier philosophy for synthesizers.

A Framework for Intentional Synthesizer Evaluation

Guiding Principle: The value of a synthesizer emerges from the relationship between the synth enthusiast and the tool — not from consensus, cost, or category.

Usage: Consider the questions below when thinking about synths you have or desire. Try to understand the value of the synth based on the relationship you estimate you will have, or have had with it.

1. Musical Intent

What do I want to explore musically right now?
Sound design, performance, composition, experimentation?

2. Functional Profile

Inputs: How do I interact with it?
Players: Does it generate or transform ideas?
Wave Sources: How much raw material is available?
Shapers: How does it transform sound?
Modulators: How alive can sounds become?
Outputs: How does it integrate into my setup?

3. Engagement Profile

Does this invite flow or friction?
Is the cognitive load energizing or draining?
Will novelty inspire me — or distract me?

4. Constraint Potential

What constraints would I choose with this instrument?
Does it reward focus or endless tweaking?

5. Bias & Responsibility Check

Am I responding to hype, nostalgia, or status?
Can I afford this comfortably?
Will I actually engage with it?

The framework is available as a single page quick reference and as a printable PDF.

This essay is a companion to: "Manifesto for Critical Thinking in Synthesizer Culture.

Author’s Note

This essay emerged from years of enthusiasm, frustration, regret, and eventually clarity within synthesizer culture. Like many synth-nerds, I’ve spent time chasing new tools, questioning my motives, selling instruments I later missed, and repeating conversations that never quite resolved anything.

What changed for me was not buying less gear or imposing stricter rules on myself, but learning how to think more clearly about why certain tools energized me while others quietly drained my attention. This framework is my attempt to articulate that thinking in a way others might find useful.

Nothing here is meant to prescribe behavior or judge outcomes. If this essay helps you feel less guilt, more intention, or greater joy in your own creative practice—regardless of budget, format, or approach—then it has served its purpose.

Thanks for reading.

- Luke Stark

Last updated: 2025-12-22