A Bit of Context: Why This Studio Redesign Unfolded the Way It Did

When I look back at this video series, I sometimes feel the need to offer a bit of a defense—not as an excuse, but as context. The studio redesign didn’t happen in a vacuum. It happened during a very specific moment in time, and that timing had a real impact on how decisions were made.

When I started redesigning the studio, the world was just beginning to emerge from the 2019 pandemic. Supply chains were still shaky, chip shortages were everywhere, and many products simply weren’t available—or were available only in very limited quantities. In practical terms, that meant I was working with far fewer resources than I would have had under normal circumstances.

The Cable Shortage Reality

One of the most surprising challenges was audio cables. Where I live, finding the right cables at the right lengths became almost impossible. When cables were available, the prices were shocking. Impatience got the better of me more than once, and in trying to avoid wasting time, I ended up spending far more on cabling than I should have—which is ironic, considering I was actively trying to avoid exactly that.

At the time, waiting weeks for supplies didn’t feel like a great option. I wanted to keep moving forward, building my studio, and experimenting. That pressure shaped many of the decisions you see reflected in the series.

Discovering Online Shopping (Very Late)

Another factor—one I’ll fully admit—is that I was extremely old school.

I genuinely believed in going to the store, buying what I needed, and coming home to get to work. My online shopping history before this redesign was almost nonexistent. I think I’d ordered three things in my entire life, and all of them were books. In fact, the first time I ordered something online, my credit card company called me to ask if the purchase was legitimate.

That changed quickly.

Once the redesign was underway, I discovered just how useful online shopping could be for studio work. It’s not that I stopped believing in brick-and-mortar stores—it’s just that certain things are far easier to source online. Cable management solutions, specialty audio cables, USB extensions, adapters, clips, laptop stands, even plastics and materials for small DIY projects—there’s simply far more selection available online than I could ever find locally.

Once I realized that, online shopping became a staple of the studio build, and I haven’t really looked back since.

Necessity Becomes Invention

Interestingly, the cable shortage also led to one of the more unusual solutions I came up with during the redesign.

At the time, I needed to connect the Maschine+ to my patchbay. That would have required four separate audio cable runs—two inputs and two outputs—each about twenty feet long. Given the prices at the time, that could have easily approached four hundred dollars just in cables.

That didn’t sit well with me.

I happened to have an old Scarlett 2i2 audio interface sitting around, and I knew that USB extension cables were relatively inexpensive and readily available. A sixteen-foot USB extension cost a fraction of what a single long audio cable did.

So I tried something unconventional.

I connected the Maschine+ to the audio interface, ran a single USB extension around the room, and parked the interface near the patchbay. From there, the short audio cables ran cleanly into the patchbay. Instead of four long audio cable runs across the room, I had one long USB cable and four short audio cables where they actually needed to be.

Was it the most elegant solution? Probably not.
Did it work? Absolutely.

It reduced cable clutter, saved money, and allowed me to keep moving forward—at least until I decided to change everything up again, as one does.

Lessons From Working With Limits

I never would have arrived at that solution if cables had been cheap and readily available. The shortage forced me to think differently, and in that moment, necessity really did become the mother of invention.

That experience sums up a lot of what this series represents. Limited resources, imperfect conditions, and constant adjustments weren’t obstacles—they were part of the process. They shaped my studio in ways I couldn’t have planned for, and in some cases, led to solutions I still appreciate today.

Looking back, it’s funny how constraints sometimes push you toward ideas you’d never consider otherwise. And even when those ideas are temporary, they often teach you something useful along the way.