Have Black Corporation managed to capture the spirit of the Jupiter‑8 in a 19‑inch rack?
Black Corporation have made a small but solid name for themselves in recent years, releasing desktop and rackmount analogue synthesizers (primarily polysynths) that are inspired by some of the most sought‑after classics of the 20th Century. Recently, their focus turned to the Roland Jupiter‑8, a synth whose reputation and value seems to increase as each year passes and — in a world replete with digital emulations — have released an homage with a true analogue signal path.
The Body Of A God?
Originally supplied in kit form and now available as a built instrument, the ISE‑NIN is a light but solid desktop module that also comes with rack ears so that you can mount it in a conventional 19‑inch rack. Its panel looks much like the programming section of a Jupiter‑8, albeit one sawn in half with the two chunks mounted one above the other. Nevertheless, to save size and possibly cost, all of the switches — whether the original knobs, toggles or the row of coloured buttons that did so much to define the look of the Jupiter‑8 — have been replaced by small buttons. Obviously, there’s no controller panel to the left of the non‑existent keyboard, although all of its facilities (and much more) can be obtained via the master section and MIDI.
Like the Jupiter‑8, it’s an eight‑voice polysynth, and each voice comprises two oscillators, a high‑pass filter, a dual‑mode low‑pass filter and an audio amplifier. Shaping is again performed by dual ADSR contours, although these are now digitally generated. As before, the voices can be accessed in three Key Modes. Whole mode assigns all eight to a single layer called Upper. Split mode assigns four voices to the Upper layer and the other four to the Lower layer and allows you to play these as independent synths either side of a user‑defined split point. Dual mode again assigns four notes to each, but layers them for bi‑timbral sounds with four‑note polyphony. You can transpose either layer by ±36 semitones to make it ‘fit’ the areas on the keyboard that you define. Each layer also includes a single, digitally‑generated, sync’able LFO that affects all of its voices equally.
In the upper row of controls, the two VCOs per voice offer the same range of waveforms and footages as the Jupiter‑8, with the same PWM, cross‑modulation, sync and VCO2 low‑frequency options. Likewise, the LFO and VCO Modulator are reproduced correctly. The first significant differences appear to lie in the arpeggiator controls but, despite the visual changes and the apparent loss of the Hold and Latch functions (which have migrated to combinations of buttons), its function is largely unchanged. Hmm... that isn’t quite right. Arpeggios on the ISE‑NIN are velocity sensitive, you can choose two patterns simultaneously (one for Upper and one for Lower), they can have separate rates, and you can synchronise them to MIDI Clock.
Dropping down to the lower row, you’ll find the VCO mixer and the high‑pass filter. This is, perhaps, where you’ll find the first additional physical control on the ISE‑NIN but, although it appears to be associated with the HPF, it’s not, so we’ll return to this shortly. Next comes the dual‑mode (12dB/oct and 24dB/oct) low‑pass filter section, which again echoes the original’s. I suspect that it would have been tempting to push the feedback gain in the ISE‑NIN’s filters to make them capable of oscillation, but the company resisted this and they respond as a Jupiter‑8 aficionado would expect. To the right of the filter section lies the VCA and the two contour generators, which, again, recreate the Jupe’s facilities. The final knob is a master volume control.
So let’s now return to that knob sitting beneath the HPF slider. It turns out that this is the first of a set of four such knobs and four associated buttons that allow you to determine the velocity and aftertouch response for each of the Upper and Lower layers. Routing is simple; press one of the buttons and you’ll be presented with a page on the tiny OLED display that allows you to select up to five destinations and their associated amounts. I counted 27 possible destinations for velocity (all of the faders plus Master Tune) and 25 for aftertouch (the same set minus the two release faders). This means that you have two sources, 10 slots and 27 destinations per layer. It’s not as all‑encompassing as the performance options within a digital workstation’s modulation matrix, but there’s a huge amount you can achieve here. Before moving on, I should note one anomaly. The manual says that the Upper/Lower Balance parameter is a destination, but it’s not on the review unit. Perhaps this becomes available with a firmware upgrade (see box).
The menu architecture comprises 13 sections. Some of these include just one or two functions, while others offer numerous parameters, but none are deeper than a single layer, which means that, should you be tempted to dive into them, you’ll bang your head on the bottom and risk crushing a few vertebrae. Among the options on offer lie a set of calibration routines that allow you to tune the oscillators, the cross‑modulation and the filters, as well as the responses of various knobs. Elsewhere, you can customise the voicing by choosing the ranges and key sync of the LFOs, by determining the minimum and maximum times for the contours’ attacks, decays and releases, and by setting the maximum portamento/glissando time. None of these options detract from the character of the Jupiter‑8 emulation, but they all extend the voicing in useful ways.
Other features that I haven’t yet mentioned include micro‑tuning, optional configuration of the outputs so that the Upper and Lower layers are mixed internally or sent to separate outputs (the latter of which turns the ISE‑NIN into two four‑voice synths when played in Split mode), optional note stealing, plus low‑, high‑, and last‑note priorities with the choice of single‑ or multi‑triggering. This is all good stuff. Then there’s the analogue drift control. You might ask why this is included; after all, this is an analogue synth! The answer is to add a bit of additional drift into the tightly tuned oscillators, and some variation into the contours. Used sparingly, it can sound rather nice. Another touch that deserves mention is the use of the Shift button while adjusting a slider to update both layers in a Split or Dual simultaneously. This is great if you want (for example) to slow the attack or extend the release of a bi‑timbral sound in Dual mode. Finally, let’s return to those lovely, coloured buttons that, amongst other things, select the Key Modes as well as the Assign Mode (Poly1, Poly2, Solo and Unison), and the panel mode (Upper or Lower) on a Jupiter‑8. Clearly, these have gone walkabout, but their functions have all migrated to the Master panel. It doesn’t look as pretty, but everything is present and correct.
The Voice Of A God?
Braving the monsters (well... OK, actually the mice) that seem to take their winter holidays and dance the nights away in my nice dry storeroom at this time of year, I liberated my Jupiter‑8 and set it up next to the ISE‑NIN and its controller. Once both synths had settled and I had put them through their tuning procedures, I performed all of my usual tests. Starting with a single oscillator, I found that, for the most part, the two could sound all but identical. The exception to this was with the maximum deviation of the pulse width; there was a difference here, but only because the range on my Jupe is a bit wider. Limiting this to around 90 percent made the two synths all but indistinguishable.
Next, I added the second oscillator, with and without sync. Inevitably, the differences were a tad more apparent, but if somebody was able to jump into the SOS time machine (still hidden in a basement lavvie with a sign on the door saying ‘Beware Of The Shark’) and retrieve a Jupiter‑8 straight off the production line, I suspect that the differences between this and my 40‑year‑old instrument would be of the same order.
Moving on to the filter, the two synths were again as close as one might hope. (Remember, the ISE‑NIN is ‘inspired by’ rather than an attempt at a clone.) I had to accommodate slight differences in parameter values to obtain near‑identical sounds, but it would be facile to expect to recreate a patch on one by putting the sliders in the same positions on the other. With a bit of care, I was able to create filtered sounds that were again close to identical. To be fair, small differences could start to creep in when sweeping sounds with lots of resonance but, at the risk of being excommunicated by the Ancient Brotherhood Of Vintage Is Always Best And Modern Is At Best ‘Meh’, I’m happy to state that there was nothing here that concerned me.
I carried on testing the rest of the architecture while limiting the ISE‑NIN to the features that the two synths have in common, and it became clear that the chaps at Black Corporation have done an excellent job of recreating the soul of the Jupiter‑8. Just one significant difference stood out. The digitally generated contours can create a ‘pop’ at minimal attack and release settings. The way around this is to extend both phases a little; not to the point that they sound sluggish, but enough to eliminate the unwanted sound. I didn’t have a problem with this, but it’s important that you can find a value that is neither too slow for the patch that you’re creating, nor so fast that you obtain the unwanted transient.
At this point, it was time to stop constraining the new synth by the limitations of the old, and start to invoke things such as velocity sensitivity, aftertouch, poly‑aftertouch and MPE.
So now it was time to try some real sounds. I started by comparing Black Corporation’s recreations of the original’s factory patches with the same sounds in my Jupiter‑8. Some were remarkably close, others could be tweaked to be close, while others captured the spirit of the original patches if not the precise sound. I then recreated some of my own Jupiter‑8 patches on the ISE‑NIN, and none of the differences would have stopped me from replacing one with the other.
At this point, it was time to stop constraining the new synth by the limitations of the old, and start to invoke things such as velocity sensitivity, aftertouch, poly‑aftertouch and MPE. The results could be superb. I was delighted to find that its response curves can be saved on a per‑patch basis, and that the ISE‑NIN offers several other parameters that allow you to fine‑tune how it responds to incoming MIDI messages. A healthy selection of CCs is provided so, in addition to controlling the sound in creative ways while playing, remote programming and automation is a doddle too.
Inevitably, there are some niggles. For example, whenever changing sound banks, the patch number reverts to ‘1’ so, in the absence of a numeric keypad or a search function, you have to scroll to the sound you want. In addition, you’ll need a crib sheet to know when you’ve found it because (like the original) there are no patch names. Given all of the other additions in the ISE‑NIN, I think that it would have been more than acceptable to add these too. But the thing that I found most frustrating was the methods for jumping between layers (patches) and Patch Presets, and for saving and recalling them. Everything works, but this is an area that would benefit from a larger screen and a clearer system.
There seems to have been some confusion regarding the number of user memories available, with the manual and the website (as well as various press sites) offering conflicting information. It turns out that the manual is correct. In addition to recreations of the original 64 factory patches found in the Jupiter‑8, there are 500 user memories for layers (single patches), plus two banks of 128 user‑memories for Patch Presets (Whole, Split and Dual sounds) in addition to 302 permanent factory Patch Presets. If these prove to be insufficient, you can use SysEx to back up and restore banks, although the mechanism for doing so is arcane — you have to press four buttons simultaneously to initiate a transfer — so I don’t know why this hasn’t been implemented as part of the menus.
The God For You?
If there’s one of my vintage polysynths that seems to be liberated from storage more than any other, it’s the Jupiter‑8. Is this because I can’t resist layering its sweet tones across every track? I’m afraid not. It’s because manufacturers keep emulating it, and I find myself making the same, detailed comparisons for the umpteenth time. If I’m honest, I think that the software versions are now so good that there’s little point setting up the original when recording. Sure, a Jupe looks and feels fantastic, and there are always ways that you can make it sound a little different from any given emulation but, as I’ve written before, if you’re spending half your life hunting for obscure reasons to decry modern recreations of vintage synths, you’re not spending enough time making music. Indeed, if you were to record the same track four times with contributions from a Jupiter‑8 or Arturia’s Jup‑8 V4 or the appropriate model in a Jupiter‑X or an ISE‑NIN, I doubt that your audience would be able to tell the difference. And even if they could, would it matter? If minuscule differences in a few sounds can ruin your tracks, you’re writing the wrong music. So where does that leave the ISE‑NIN?
There will, of course, be the usual gaggle of Internet trolls who, without ever putting the two side‑by‑side, will be happy to proclaim that it sounds nothing like a Jupiter‑8. My advice to them would be to get out more and stop smoking the funny stuff. So now, with a huge grin, I’m going to write a sentence that I’ve been anticipating for more than 20 years... Although it’s not always quite as accurate to the original, this analogue polysynth inspired by the [insert name of original 1970s/1980s synthesizer here] sounds just as good as the most recent digital emulations. Oh, come on... you’ve got to chuckle. So the issue with the ISE‑NIN isn’t the accuracy with which it recreates the Jupiter‑8 sound and experience (both of which can be excellent) but its price, which places it in the realms of aspiration rather than affordability.
Actually, there are two issues that I think we should discuss simultaneously because they are related; the cost and the perceived build quality. At around £4500 in the UK, the ISE‑NIN is far from cheap and, even in these dark days of synths costing four to five grand, this is an anoxic price for a module. I fully understand the constraints of boutique manufacturing, and there’s little doubt in my mind that the price represents the time and effort that has gone into the synth. Nonetheless, it would be easier to overlook it if the ISE‑NIN offered premium hardware and a huge touch‑sensitive colour screen. But while Black Corporation have balanced the conflicting needs of solidity and lightness, and of small size and sufficient room to get your fingers around the controls, the construction seems just a little too basic, the knobs are of the type that you can buy at your local electronics store, the screen is just a bit too small... and so it goes. While I find it to be attractive and pleasant to use, I have a feeling that many potential customers are going to expect something that looks and feels as expensive as it sounds.
Programming my favourite Jupiter‑8 patches on the ISE‑NIN, adding lots of performance control, and then playing the results using a Roli Seaboard Rise 2 gave new life to sounds that I’ve loved since the 1980s...
So why would anyone pay this much for a desktop synth inspired by the Jupiter‑8? We could argue endlessly about the pros and cons of physical instruments versus software, but I suspect that it’s something simpler than that; the original is all but unobtainable and, when one appears, the price is prohibitive. I saw one for sale recently with an asking price of £25,000, so £4500 could be seen to be a bit of a bargain, especially since the ISE‑NIN is considerably more flexible than the original. (Even the additional capabilities of the MKS‑80 and MPG‑80 pale in comparison.) Programming my favourite Jupiter‑8 patches on the ISE‑NIN, adding lots of performance control, and then playing the results using a Roli Seaboard Rise 2 gave new life to sounds that I’ve loved since the 1980s, and I have little doubt that there will be some potential owners who view it as both desirable and reasonable value. Others will, of course, deem it to be an outlandish extravagance.
The Rear Panel
The simple rear panel boasts balanced quarter‑inch outputs for the Upper and Lower layers, which obviates the need for the Jupiter‑8’s XLR sockets. (A headphone output that mirrors these sits on the top panel.) MIDI is provided by a full set of 5‑pin In, Out and Thru sockets, as well as USB. There are no analogue control inputs. Unfortunately, the 2.5A power supply is external and, as is becoming increasingly common, it’s not one that you’ll find at a local store should you lose the original. Furthermore, there’s nothing to stop the barrel plug from popping out if you accidentally trip on the cable. Come on guys... how much would a little plastic restraint add to the build cost?
Updating The ISE‑NIN Firmware
One of the things that I tend to do when receiving a review unit is check the OS revision and, if appropriate, update it to the latest version. But on this occasion, I didn’t do so...
To update the ISE‑NIN, you have to download a third‑party application called STM32Cube Programmer, which requires that you register at a company called STMicroelectronics. I did so on my MacBook Pro and, having downloaded the software, tried to run it, whereupon macOS said that “SetupSTM32CubeProgrammer‑2.14.0 cannot be opened because the developer cannot be verified”. This was not a good start. If you decide to overrule Apple and run the program, the manual admits that things may not go smoothly on an Apple Silicon Mac, and then explains how to invoke the Terminal program to get things going. If you succeed, you then power up the ISE‑NIN in something called DFU mode and update the synth with two downloaded hex files that comprise the operating system. The manual warns that the “STM32Cube Programmer may occasionally crash during operation” but, thankfully, this doesn’t trash the synth; you can power cycle and attempt the upgrade again. Given all of the caveats (which, I suspect, reveal the synth’s origin as a kit for people who really know what they’re doing) I decided to leave well alone and tested the ISE‑NIN with the version installed when it arrived.
What’s In A Name?
Intrigued by the name of the ISE‑NIN, I asked Bob Rogue at Black Corporation where it came from. He told me, “The name has several places it could be drawn from. NIN or JIN is a person, while ISE can mean the opposite person or sex, and there are several plays on words in the Japanese language where the name can hint at a person from the outside, or something alien or foreign. But Black Corporation product names shouldn’t be taken too seriously. While Deckard’s Dream and Rachael are Blade Runner references, the rest of our names are just from us being weirdos. At least, that’s what we’re telling people this year.”
ISE‑NIN Ukrainian Version
In addition to the standard ISE‑NINs with their Roland‑inspired livery, Black Corporation have created five special edition units that sport the national colours of Ukraine on their control panels. The revenue from these will contribute to a fund aiming to buy ambulances and supplies for the civilians of that war‑torn country. This is an excellent initiative, and I applaud the company loudly for it.
Pros
- It really can sound like a Jupiter‑8 — in other words, gorgeous.
- Anyone familiar with the original should feel at home right away.
- Poly‑aftertouch and MPE take it to places where no analogue Jupiter has ever gone before.
Cons
- It doesn’t have a premium feel, the screen is very small and the menus are not always as clear as they should be.
- Upgrading the firmware is far from straightforward.
- It uses an external power supply with no stress relief for the cable.
- It’s expensive.
Summary
Although it’s encapsulated in a box that’s a tiny fraction of the size and weight of its inspiration, the ISE‑NIN has the soul of a Jupiter‑8 and adds facilities and flexibility that may have seemed fanciful in 1982. It’s expensive, but I suspect that some people will be able to justify the outlay. For others, the sound of a Jupiter‑8 generated by an analogue synth will remain almost as far out of reach as ever.