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Knob Twiddlers
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    Gallemiezen
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  1. You can also get illy pads for espresso machines that come with a special piston that holds the pad. My dad used them a lot in the 90s.
  2. Holy shit! We have the exact same kitchen countertop. I think this brand is named after an FBI agent that became a shapeshifter after a top secret experiment gone wrong. ”sir, there’s no way we’ll be able to access the facility unnoticed.” ”get morphy Richards on the case” Took me a while to get consistently nice coffee but now that I’ve got my tamping technique down things are alright.
  3. Couple more things I’d add to the troubleshoot/elimination process if you haven’t already; try the motu interface on your other laptop swap out the motu’s usb cable for a new/different one try a different usb port is the motu on a dedicated port? does this also happen when using other recording software? Oh, just realised you have the motu hooked up via adat, so that means you have the m audio connected via fw to your laptop, right? What happens when you switch them around? Didn’t read back through the rest of the thread so possibly there are somethings that were already answered. Intuitively I’d say there’s some clocking issue/jitter going on between the two interfaces but you already alluded to that. The noise sounds kind of zippery to me and not like typical buffer popping/glitching. Is one of the interfaces switching samplerate maybe? Like it’s set to 44.1 in some program that then tries to set it to that samplerate before the interface quickly switches back to it’s configured setting of 48khz?
  4. Forgot about that move. Just lay down in that position and it definitely had a positive effect for a bit, cheers. Just waiting for a delivery of some components that I’ve been eagerly awaiting (but can’t start building because I can’t fucking sit, argh grumble) and then gonna take a hot shower and try some more stretching. Leg stretches are part of the routine I do when lying down, definitely also help somewhat. I’ve been wanting to take up swimming for a couple of years but the usual excuses always kept me from doing it. Definitely gonna reconsider after this is somewhat over. thanks for the suggestions, everyone!
  5. My back is absolutely killing me. Can’t sit, can barely walk. Lying down is the only somewhat comfortable position but of course lying down for too long only makes things worse. About to miss more days of work than I can really afford but I guess on the upside I’m actually doing nothing for the first time in over a year and getting more than my usual 3-5 hours of sleep. Have watched some stuff on Netflix, so it’s nice to relax a bit even though it’s accompanied by stabbing pain in my back, sides and legs.
  6. user

    I need a DJ name

    DJ The new normal 4
  7. There’s a potentially lethal virus doing the rounds and dingformung thinks you may have contracted it. The good news is that mostly old people and some other irrelevant groups are seriously affected. Stay home for a few days and don’t cough directly into anyone’s face without covering your mouth with their elbow.
  8. In case anybody was wondering or runs into a similar issue in the future, here's my layman's take on it that will probably mostly serve to perpetuate misunderstandings and confusion. The issue seems to be caused by the power brick that I bought with my 4ms Row Power. The 4ms brick has been emitting a high pitched whine from day one, but according to a thread on mw most of them seem to do this and generally the bricks don't cause any issues. It seems like the electromagnetic field the 4ms brick creates is not only powerful enough to make it whine when not loaded but also powerful enough to magically switch on the analog drive at some interval when both bricks are within 20 cm or so of each other. I guess the em field created by the 4ms brick charges the capacitors in the analog drive psu and when they discharge it makes the analog drive appear if it's powering up for a split second?
  9. It has that look that would have me mesmerized as kid and I'd dream of understanding and operating a machine like that just because it looks so fucking cool. Still affects me as an adult but I've let go of the understanding part of the dream : ) The mobilized omar looks pretty slick as well! Inverted the trays and cut the legs on mine, seems they lend themselves quite well to some modification although I'm weary of putting anything too heavy on it with the trays upside down.
  10. I can’t think of any way of lengthening pots that isn’t bound to look horrible, break easily or a scam. Maybe some tall knobs that don’t slide all the way down the shaft somehow?
  11. Either this or the ability to bookmark topics and/or posts would be very convenient.
  12. Looks nice! What is it? Ordered components and parts to put together a Phonic Taxidermist and a couple of piezo preamps (https://www.zachpoff.com/resources/alex-rice-piezo-preamplifier/) The taxidermist will be the most challenging build for me yet I think as there are a few different ways of putting it together/configuring it wrt to having it as a desktop unit or eurorack module and having some extra parameters exposed on the panel. It uses a HT8955A delay chip that’s oop and apparently not super easy to source. Ordered 5 from a seller on aliexpress before reading that there are a lot of fakes/replica’s in circulation that either don’t work correctly or are even entirely useless. Luckily the seller decided to send me 10 and going by the description of the genuine chips it seems that at least 3 of them are the real deal.
  13. My uncle was heavily into diecast cars. As a kid he’d invite me over to his cramped flat to admire his collection and watch him polish some of his favourite “diceys”, or “wellies” as he’d sometimes refer to them. The unmistakable smell of Diecast Delight would greet you as soon as you stepped into his apartment. This particular blend of diecast car polish, old potatoes (he fought in the East Indies) and rolling tobacco will be part of my olfactory scrapbook until the day I die. Usually he’d be sitting at the brightly lit table in his front room where he also kept his 2 caged parakeets, which he loved very dearly even though they didn’t seem to be able to reciprocate any of the warm feelings he had towards them, or even acknowledge his existence beyond screeching loudly when he would playfully rattle their cage. This realisation always made me slightly sad but it didn’t seem to affect Gerard, my uncle, as he sat there enthusiastically polishing one of his many diecast cars. Though as I got older it wasn’t just the lack of avian love that made my heart sink ever so slightly as I made my way through the maze, a maze that served as a sort of threshold or even safeguard between the harsh daily reality of live for the average East Indies veteran in the Netherlands at the time and my uncle’s own fantastic world of diecast metal, plastic windshields and miniaturised emblems, of discarded bottles of Diecast Delight and stained rags that made up the hallway of my uncle’s subsidised flat. After offering me a cup of tea or perhaps some lukewarm carvan cevitam during summer, Gerard would let whatever diecast miniature model car he’d been caressing slide from his rag and let it gently roll onto the dark solid oak table where he spent most of his time. “Do you want to inspect it?” he’d ask, I could feel his expectant gaze as he stood over me waiting to pick up the carefully reproduced vehicular effigy. But as I grew older the tiny diecast cars stayed the same size, and every couple of months they would seem less impressive as I ran my fingers across their roofs and bonnets and spun their perfectly reproduced but useless wheels and I started to realise that my uncle didn’t even have a drivers license, let alone own a car. He’d never be able to take me anywhere in one of his many ford reproductions and would never casually toss me the keys to his beautiful red fiat panda, offering me my first lesson in a deserted industrial estate. My uncle didn’t realise this as he started showing up after school insisting that I “hop in” as he tried forcing my head through the doorframe of a tiny sparkling Subaru, or rather trying to push the Subaru through my skull. As he started to notice the tears in my eyes and my whimpers his sense of proportional awareness would return and he’d slowly loosen his grip on the minuscule automobile. “Vroom, vroom” he’d mutter, aiding the car in a meandering coast down the side of my body. His other arm, in which the shrapnel of the mine that his commander in the East Indies stepped on was still embedded, came up with a trembling hand clutching the diecast delight stained rag he would bring up to his mouth while inhaling deeply.
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