Something I've been trying to do with my vintage synths is to recontextualize them as contemporary sounds rather than throwbacks. In this piece for example, I wanted to use the Moog, and have it sound like a Moog, but without feeling retro or nostalgic. And that's what I'm most interested in hearing from you: how it's landing for you and ideas for what I might do to meet my aesthetic goal of preserving the unique voice of the instrument, without situating its sound in an earlier era?

This piece was posted in response to Disquiet Junto #0711. More on the 711th weekly Disquiet Junto project, Show & Tell & — The Assignment: Share some recent music; get and give feedback — at https://disquiet.com/0711/.

Tethys (disquiet0711)

An 80s inspired electronic synthwave track

From Dusk Till Tron

Currently an instrumental track. Lyrics to be written.

Second Genesis

Carry On

"Polarity" is a track built around contrast and tension.

I set out to explore the balance between driving rhythm and emotional melody, using analog textures, hypnotic progression, and a resolutely progressive structure.

Inspired by the melodic techno scene, this piece is designed for both immersive listening and DJ sets.

"Polarity" aims to create a bridge between raw energy and subtle sound design — a balance between extremes.

Polarity

"Stranger Things" blends house energy with a throwback 80’s vibe, wrapped in modern indie-pop textures. Analog synths meet infectious grooves, while the lyrics capture the tension of love turning distant — when something once so okay suddenly feels strange.

Stranger Things

Disquiet Junto 0712 invited us to interpret a barcode as a rhythm.

The first barcode patent was issued in 1952, but they didn't look like the ones we usually see now: they were bullseye-shaped. Today's linear barcodes use what is called "many-width symbology", meaning that the vertical lines ("modules") in the barcode are different widths, from 1 to 4. The lines are printed vertically instead of horizontally so that if the ink smeared during printing, the code would still be legible and no information would be lost. 

Barcodes almost failed in the retail space, because no one wanted to be the first to invest the money to adopt them when they were unproven. They were a lot  more popular more quickly in the railroad business, where by the early 1960s optical scanners could read the color-coded barcodes on train cars as they rolled past at full speed.

The barcode I chose as source material for the prompt was from a tape dispenser that I bought to help my daughter pack to leave home. This piece is probably an aural photograph of the feelings I'm having right now, but that's neither here nor there. Where was I?

Instead of reading the barcode as if it were visually measuring out beats, I decided to decode the modules and transcribe the widths. This turned into the sequence 2 1 3 2 1 4 4 1 / 2 1 2 3 1 1 1 3 / 3 1 1 1 3 1 1 1 / 1 1, which I incorporated into this piece in several ways.

First, the percussion pattern is built by breaking the sequence into chunks of four numbers. These four numbers indicate the beat position of a series of drum kit components on a 16-step grid. So 2-1-3-2, the first sequence, means the kick drum hits on the 2nd, 1st, 3rd, and 2nd beats of the four divisions of the pattern. Next would be the snare, then the tom, and finally the hihat with 1-1-1-3. The sequence also determines the note length and note number of the "melodic" sequence. 

Finally, I translated the sequence into steps in a custom arpeggiator, with the width of the modules transposed into the vertical axis of the beats in the pattern. There are two arpeggiated synth tracks, running at different rates, played on the Logic ES2 and Alchemy software synths. A triggered vocal sample rhythmically reflects the numeric sequence. The rest of the synth parts came from the Roland boutique Studio Electronics SE-02, a reissue of the "Moog-adjacent" SE-01 analog monosynth of 1982.

There's a lot going on in this piece, but there's a lot going on over here, too. The sound that a single mom makes in her empty nest. Snapshot of a moment in time at 90bpm.

More on the 712th weekly Disquiet Junto project, Zebra Code — The Assignment: What rhythm do you hear in a bar code? — at https://disquiet.com/0712/.

The Passage (disquiet0712)

Cold… clean…  
Closer than you think  

I see you (closer than you think)  
I don’t move (I let the pulse speak)  
Skin like glass, breath on chrome  
One command, and I stand alone  

Lips unread, code in play  
Still unsaid, but you always stay  

Cold, clean, nothing in between  
Cold, clean, you know what I mean  
Cold, clean, burning without flame  
Cold, clean, touch without a name  

You stare, but you blink too slow  
I’m there, where you’ll never go  
No need to speak aloud  
You kneel inside the sound  
  
Lips unread, code in play  
Still unsaid, but you always stay  

Cold, clean, nothing in between  
Cold, clean, you know what I mean  
Cold, clean, burning without flame  
Cold, clean, touch without a name  

Not love, not lust, just tension  
No need, no must, just function  
Then silence… silence…  

Cold, clean, I don’t need to be seen  
Cold, clean, dissolve in the screen  
Cold, clean, burning without flame  
Cold, clean, touch without a name  

Cold… clean…  
Cold… clean…  
You dissolve in the screen…  

Cold Clean (Indie Synth Pop reload)

I cross faces, searching signs,
Like you’re hidden in real life.
Late-night taxis, empty streets,
Hoping I’ll fall where our worlds meet.

Don’t know your name, don’t know your scent,
But I dream of you in every moment.
Every silence, every bed so bare,
Brings me closer, but you’re not there.

I miss you already, it’s crazy I know,
Don’t even know if you’re real or a ghost.
But I feel you when I close my eyes,
Your absence is a shape I recognize.
I miss you already, like a song not sung,
Like your shadow’s lying under my sheets undone.
Preparing for a blurry “us,”
Even if I don’t know who we are.

Maybe you passed me just two streets away,
Or live in another town, too far to say.
But there’s this pull, a voice inside,
Like a chorus with no words to guide.

Don’t need a name, don’t need a sign,
Your absence carved itself in mine.
When I press pause, the whole world fades,
And I hear you in the quiet waves.

I miss you already, it’s crazy I know,
Don’t even know if you’re real or a ghost.
But I feel you when I close my eyes,
Your absence is a shape I recognize.
I miss you already, like a song not sung,
Like your shadow’s lying under my sheets undone.
Preparing for a blurry “us,”
Even if I don’t know who we are.

Not in a rush, but I’m ready still,
Not so certain, but I know the feel.
I keep a space, an empty line,
Like a page that waits for your sign.

I miss you already, it’s hazy but true,
You’re the sweetest lack I ever knew.
I miss you already, with no “me,” no “you,”
When you arrive, I’ll know it’s you.

You’re not here…
But you exist.
Somewhere.
And I wait.

Miss you already (Blue Eyed Soul reload)

Reunojen velocity

Space Glam (Orchestral Film Music Reload)

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track — only in Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

About

I’m Dean R. Chandler — a London based songwriter, recording artist, and storyteller. My music is rooted in a lifelong search for meaning, weaving together themes of love, loss, faith, alien contact, and humanity’s future.

My upcoming double concept album Human Odyssey (set for release in January 2027) is the culmination of decades of writing and reflection. It’s a narrative journey that begins with a search for God and ends with an encounter with extraterrestrial intelligence — exploring not only what it means to be human, but also where we might be heading as a species. Musically, it draws inspiration from the epic storytelling of Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds, the synth-driven edge of Gary Numan, and the emotional depth of artists like Tori Amos and Chris de Burgh.

I previously released Time Machine – Reflecting Shattered Dreams (2014) and continue to revisit my archive of songs written across 35 years, reimagining them with today’s tools and sounds. Some pieces remain intimate and acoustic, while others expand into dark rock, industrial, or orchestral landscapes — but all are connected by a focus on emotional honesty and cinematic storytelling.

Beyond music, I’m fascinated by the intersection of creativity and technology. I’ve been experimenting with AI-driven composition and production to bring old demos to life and to spark entirely new works. For me, these tools are not replacements for human artistry but extensions of it — ways of unlocking stories and emotions that otherwise might have remained hidden.

At its heart, my work is about connection: to the past, to the future, and to the unseen mysteries of existence. Music, for me, isn’t just entertainment — it’s a chronicle of transformation, a conversation between spirit, science, and sound.

https://www.linkedin.com/in/dean-r-chandler-b19715382/
www.deanrchandler.co.uk

Helsinki-based freelance sound designer, sound engineer and musician. Widely collaborated with artists from different fields of art - filmmakers, visual artists, poets, dancers.

Electric guitar and varying set of electronics and synths as main instruments -- field recordings, electro-acoustic compositions, gruffy techno, glitchy textures, deep drones.

All photography and visuals (c) Jarkko Kela

I create original experiential music from NOSIGNAL Multimedia Lab in Chicago. The Hard Times described my music as "creepy, haunted, but also a little bit uplifting." Prolific.

DJ and music producer based in Switzerland, I'm passionate about Latin and Afro-inspired sounds.
I also enjoy exploring different styles, depending on where life takes me and what inspires me along the way.

New tracks tagged #analog synths