In the 1980s, the price of synthesisers started to plummet (albeit from a fairly astronomical height). One of the first and definitely the most famous – and one you could also wear – was produced by one of the big Japanese names cashing in on the synth craze, and became one of the most iconic monos ever. Enter the Roland SH-101…

〉During the early 80s, microchip technology was touching every aspect of human life. We were not quite at the stage where our fridge-freezers could order our shopping for us, but the switch to chip circuitry was having a very positive effect on the price of music technology.

Just a few years previous, you couldn’t buy a synthesiser for less than several hundred quid, but the Japanese giants of music technology world would have a thing or two to say about that in this decade. The original Roland Jupiter series once commanded four-figure price tags, but Roland then found a way of shrinking the tech into a form that would make it much cheaper, and used that knowledge in the more modestly-priced Juno series. Even so, it was still several hundred pounds a pop, so when the SH-101 appeared with a street price of around £199, it was something of a revolution. Here was a monosynth that you could really get on board with. It boasted an immediacy in sound, and that sound was huge considering its size.

The SH-101 adopted the SH pedigree from previous Roland monosynths, such as the SH-2 and SH-09, while shifting to the adoption of a number which aligned itself with other machines in their range, such as the TR-808, TR-606 and TB-303. The 303 has acquired cult status, and while there are considerable differences between the 303 and the 101, they can often have a fairly similar sound, depending on the musical context.

“Batteries allowed keyboard players to wander free, turning the 101 into a keytar”

Keytar favourite

Built from a grey plastic, the original 101 was powered by an external DC power supply, or you could fill it with batteries, should you want to go native! This allowed keyboard players to wander free, as the 101 had additional accessories such as a mod-grip, which would essentially turn it into a Keytar, and one that adorned many R’n’B videos during its tech tenure. In reality, using it as a keytar was a nightmare; with no patch memories, you would have to set the patch before going for a keyboard-based wander, only to find that the moment you strapped in, you’d most likely knock the faders out of shape, as you moved about, requiring immediate readjustment, before or during playing!

However, for the more studio bound, the 101’s signal path began with a Voltage Controlled Oscillator (VCO). As technology had marched on, this VCO had been placed under digital control, meaning that you heard all of the analogue depth, but with reliable tuning, at least after a few minutes of warm up time.

Deeper 101

The VCO offered three oscillator tones, plus white noise, which could be comfortably blended together to form the sound you required. The fundamental saw wave was the bedrock, with an accompanying square wave, which was open to pulse width modulation. But the secret sonic weapon could be summoned from the depths, in the shape of a sub-oscillator. This heavyweight tone shored up the fundamental pitch, and could be placed either one or two octaves below the main pitch.

While the filter was functional in context, it was also fierce and self-oscillating, inspiring many artists and producers to employ the resultant sine wave in isolation. It was perfect for 808 style bass drums, while offering tracking, so could easily operate as a bass sound in its own right. This became something of a calling card for hip hop, R’n’B and the emerging jungle/drum & bass producers.