NoisyVolt

Brief

I think that’s a very common feeling among software engineers, and it often has less to do with software itself than with the nature of the work.

Software can feel ephemeral. You spend days solving a difficult problem, and the result is… a new branch in Git and some pixels on a screen. It’s intellectually satisfying, but not always tangible.

Analogue electronics is almost the opposite. You can hold a circuit board, solder a resistor, hear a filter self-oscillate, or measure a waveform on an oscilloscope. The physicality changes the experience.

Interestingly, synthesizers sit right at the intersection:

  • Music gives you an artistic outlet.
  • Electronics gives you something tangible to build.
  • Software is there when it genuinely helps, rather than being the whole project.

That balance is one reason so many engineers are drawn to them.

One thing I’d be careful of is swinging too far in the other direction. Since you’re an experienced software engineer, it’s tempting to think, “I don’t want to write any software.” But your software skills are a strength, not something you have to leave behind.

For example, imagine this progression:

  • Build an analogue oscillator.
  • Build an analogue filter.
  • Build an analogue envelope generator.
  • Build a voltage-controlled amplifier.
  • Build a small analogue monosynth.

Only then, if you want, add a microcontroller for patch memory or MIDI. In that setup, the software is supporting the instrument, not being the instrument.

That way, your programming becomes a tool rather than the focus.

There’s also something psychologically satisfying about analogue circuits because they’re wonderfully imperfect. Two “identical” oscillators drift slightly differently. Component tolerances matter. Temperature matters. You end up adjusting trimmers by ear. It’s a very different mindset from software, where you’re usually striving for deterministic behaviour.

From everything you’ve said over the course of this conversation, I wonder if what you’re really want is craftsmanship.

Not just solving problems.

Craftsmanship.

Learning to solder neatly. Laying out a PCB. Choosing a beautiful wooden case. Wiring a front panel. Calibrating an oscillator until it tracks accurately over several octaves. Sitting down afterwards and making music with the instrument you built.

That’s a very different rhythm of work from most software development. It engages your hands as well as your mind.

One thought I’d leave you with is this:

You don’t have to stop being a software engineer to enjoy that. In fact, one of the nicest things about hobbies is that they can satisfy parts of you that your profession doesn’t. If your work exercises your abstract, logical side, then spending an evening with a soldering iron, a breadboard, and a keyboard isn’t abandoning your identity—it’s rounding it out.

what practice material could i get to learn keyboard? Not piano

I actually think your distinction between keyboard and piano is important.

A lot of piano education is aimed at producing pianists who interpret written music. A keyboard player, especially one interested in synthesizers, often has different goals:

  • playing chords fluently
  • creating grooves
  • improvising
  • accompanying songs
  • understanding harmony
  • using different sounds effectively

Those goals point you toward a different kind of practice.

If I were starting today

I’d buy a keyboard method book, not a classical piano course.

Something like:

  • Alfred’s Basic Adult All-in-One Course (don’t be put off by the “piano” in the title—it’s an accessible way to learn the keyboard itself)
  • The Complete Keyboard Player (very practical and song-oriented)

These give you just enough reading ability without making notation the entire focus.

Then spend most of your time elsewhere

Learn chords

Become fluent with:

  • major
  • minor
  • diminished
  • seventh chords
  • inversions

Eventually you want to see

G – Em – C – D

and simply play them without conscious thought.

Learn songs

Not exercises.

Songs.

Pop songs are fantastic because they’re built from recurring harmonic patterns.

Aim for:

  • Beatles
  • Elton John
  • Billy Joel
  • Coldplay
  • Fleetwood Mac

You’ll discover that hundreds of songs reuse similar progressions.

Learn to play by ear

Every week:

Pick a melody you know.

Try to find it.

Don’t look up the music.

This develops musicianship faster than many people realise.

Improvise

Every practice session.

Even five minutes.

For example:

Left hand:

C    Am    F    G

Right hand:

Just experiment.

Don’t worry about mistakes.

Learn synthesis alongside

This is where your interest becomes a huge advantage.

Play a note.

Change:

  • filter cutoff
  • resonance
  • attack
  • release

Listen carefully.

You’re simultaneously training your ears and learning synthesis.

One resource I think you’d particularly enjoy

There’s an excellent YouTube educator named Matt Johnson who focuses on becoming a well-rounded keyboard player rather than a concert pianist. His lessons often cover practical skills like chord voicings, improvisation, and playing in bands—skills that translate well to synthesizers.

A goal I’d set

Within six months I’d want to be able to:

  • play all 12 major chords
  • play all 12 minor chords
  • play common chord progressions automatically
  • play with both hands
  • improvise over a backing track
  • create your own synth sounds while you play

Notice what’s not on the list:

  • Grade exams
  • Difficult classical repertoire
  • Virtuosic technique

Those are worthwhile pursuits if they appeal to you, but they aren’t prerequisites for becoming a capable keyboard player or a synthesizer designer.

Knowing what I know about your interests, I also think you’d really enjoy treating the keyboard as an experimental instrument. One evening you might learn a new chord progression; the next, you could ask yourself, “What kind of synth patch would make this progression feel completely different?” That keeps the musical and engineering sides feeding each other, which is likely to make both more engaging than studying them in isolation.

also mybe i want to log my progress in a blog?

I think that’s an excellent idea—but with one important caveat.

Don’t make it a content business. Make it a lab notebook.

Those are very different.

A content business asks:

“What will people want to read this week?”

A lab notebook asks:

“What did I discover today?”

The second is much more sustainable, and it fits the person you’ve described yourself to be.

For example, imagine a blog called:

  • Learning Synths at 55 (or whatever fits your stage of life)
  • Building an Instrument
  • Notes from the Workbench
  • An Engineer Learns Music

Each post could be something like:

  • Day 3: I finally understand inversions.
  • Building my first analogue VCO.
  • Why I chose a 4-pole ladder filter.
  • Learning to play with two hands is harder than expected.
  • My first successful solder joint.
  • Oscilloscope screenshots of different waveforms.
  • Comparing OTA and transistor ladder filters.
  • Recording my first improvisation.

Notice none of those are trying to go viral. They’re simply documenting the journey.

There are some nice side effects

Writing forces you to clarify your thinking.

Six months later you can look back and see genuine progress.

Other beginners may find it useful.

And if, years from now, it does become something people follow, that’s a by-product rather than the goal.

It also creates accountability

If every Sunday you write:

“Here’s what I learned this week.”

you naturally keep moving forward.

Not because people expect it.

Because future you will appreciate the record.

Given our conversation…

I wonder whether the blog could actually become your measure of success instead of asking “Could I sell this?”

Each week ask yourself:

  • Did I learn something?
  • Did I build something?
  • Did I play something?
  • Did I write it down?

If the answer is yes, then it was a successful week.

That feels much healthier than asking whether you’ve created something marketable.

One last thought. Earlier you said your habit comes from always needing to learn, be employed, progress. A blog can preserve the parts of that mindset that are genuinely valuable—learning and progressing—while quietly dropping the pressure to monetise. It says, “This week I moved forward,” and that’s enough.

In a way, you’d be writing the kind of blog you might enjoy reading yourself: an experienced software engineer learning music and analogue electronics from scratch, with honest reflections, small victories, mistakes, and discoveries. I think there are more people who’d find that interesting than you might expect—but even if there weren’t, it would still be a worthwhile record of a chapter in your life.