XA1_DESIGN

Astrax grew out of this approach. Its faceplate features two large cutouts that expose parts of the PCB beneath. While this choice isn’t conventionally practical, it reflects the original vision for the instrument: something futuristic, slightly uncomfortable, and visually distinctive. Preserving that idea mattered more than following standard expectations.

Ultimately, both music and design rely on intuition, but intuition informed by intention. Taking risks and breaking from convention can be necessary if the result encourages curiosity or leaves a strong impression. If an instrument makes someone pause, look closer, and engage with it differently, then the design has done its job.

I’m interested in how the environment and the design of the objects around us influence creative work, particularly in music. The instruments and tools in a studio don’t just serve a functional role, their form, layout, and physical presence shape how ideas emerge and how a musician interacts with sound.

For me, good instrument design isn’t about visual appeal alone. It’s about how something feels to use, and how that feeling affects decision-making during the creative process. A shape, a layout, or even a color can establish a mood before a single note is played, subtly guiding how the instrument is approached.

I’m drawn to instruments and interfaces that feel intuitive without being overly refined. When design becomes too clean or polite, it can lose character. Small details, the shape of a knob, the glow of an indicator, the way elements are arranged, can encourage exploration and invite longer, more focused interaction.

Musicians often develop a recognizable sound through their choices, embracing specific tones, textures, and imperfections. I see instrument design in a similar way. An instrument can have its own identity, shaped by deliberate design decisions, and can communicate something about the ideas and references behind it.