Why I Chose Hardware (Even When Software Makes More Sense)

First, I want to be absolutely clear: I’m ecstatic about my studio’s transformation from a software-based studio to a hardware-based one.

I’ve enjoyed every step of the redesign process. While I still produce music using software, there’s a particular connection and sense of inspiration I get from pushing a fader, turning a knob, or physically interacting with an instrument—something I don’t experience in quite the same way when everything lives on a screen.

I also fully understand that this isn’t true for everyone.

When people think about hardware studios, two things usually come to mind very quickly: expense and complexity. And honestly, they’re not wrong. Hardware studios can be expensive, and once you introduce external connections, power distribution, routing, and cabling, things can absolutely go sideways. I completely understand why someone might have zero desire to deal with any of that.

After all, why wouldn’t you choose a modern DAW-based setup?

You can open Logic, Cubase, Ableton Live, Luna—or any number of other DAWs—and instantly have access to more synths, compressors, EQs, and effects than anyone could reasonably use. All of it lives inside a laptop that neatly folds up at the end of the day. It’s productive, clean, affordable, easy to manage, and incredibly powerful.

So why on earth would anyone trade that for a room full of cables, routing puzzles, power concerns, connection problems—and the added bonus of potentially selling your car to pay for it?

For many people, sticking with software makes perfect sense. In fact, that’s exactly where I lived for years. I was fully “in the box,” and I was productive there. Software wasn’t a limitation—it worked.

So why did I change?

For me, it came down to wanting to try something new.

I genuinely enjoy music technology. I like learning how things connect, how different pieces of equipment talk to each other, and how systems integrate. That learning process—sometimes messy, sometimes frustrating—is part of the thrill for me. I like physical interaction. I like complexity in manageable doses. I like walking to one side of the studio to work with a synth, then moving to another area to shape sound in a different way.

I also enjoy the look and feeling of being surrounded by instruments and tools that inspire me.

Despite the complexity, my studio is set up so that a few switches are flipped and I’m ready to record. From a productivity standpoint, it’s not dramatically different from my old software setup. The difference is how it feels to work. And for me, I simply enjoy this more.

That said, I’m not blind to the future.

Twenty or thirty years down the road—when I’m older and hopefully still teaching music (we music teachers tend to work until we physically can’t get out of bed)—downsizing will probably become a reality. I may not have room for racks, synths, and patchbays in an old folks’ home. At that point, my studio may very well return to a laptop and a keyboard.

And honestly? That would be fine too.

I prefer my hardware studio right now, but I can clearly see the advantages of both approaches. I’ve chosen the path that excites me in this chapter, and I’m enjoying it fully—without pretending it’s the only correct choice.

Who knows what the future holds. For now, I’ll keep turning knobs, pushing faders, and enjoying every bit of the ride.