The synth reeked of cigarettes for the first few months of my ownership. If I spent every last penny of the money I’d saved, and mortgaged my next few birthdays and Christmases, that is.Īll I know about the original owner of the Korg Wavestation is that he’d clearly spent his time getting to know this sleek minimal early 1990s behemoth by chain-smoking his way through the manual. So suddenly here was a nearly new synthesizer whose full retail price was beyond my reach but whose secondhand value might – just might – be attainable. Someone had returned this instrument, baffled by its capabilities after just two unsuccessful weeks of trying to form a meaningful musical relationship with it. But this wasn’t quite the start you might expect. I walked into my local hi-tech music emporium in Southampton, aged 16, and there it was. I have an incredibly clear memory of the first time I encountered the Korg Wavestation.
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