Signal Sounds: One Year Inside the Cric’s Sonic Labyrinth

The passage of time leaves its fingerprints on every instrument, but with the Cric, Michael Manning finds that a year’s exploration only deepens its mystery. Where once he approached the machine as an extension of other gear—a companion to the plum butter and non-sequencable oddities—now the Cric stands alone, a magnetic field of possibility. Manning’s journey is not just technical; it’s emotional, a slow immersion into the Cric’s character as both a sound design tool and a compositional partner.

This video is less about first impressions and more about the slow reveal, the way a synthesizer’s personality unfolds with repeated encounters. Manning’s tone is reverent, almost confessional, as he describes how the Cric has become a core part of his creative process. The Cric is no longer just a device; it’s a collaborator, a source of inspiration that shapes the narrative of his music. Signal Sounds, ever the community hub, lets us witness this evolving relationship in intimate detail.

The Cric’s patch matrix is a map of hidden continents, each pin a portal to new sonic territory. Manning guides us through this labyrinth, highlighting the interplay between sources and destinations, the way straight and dotted lines become landmarks in a sea of modulation. The matrix is not just a technical feature—it’s an invitation to lose oneself, to wander and discover.

Flexibility is the Cric’s mantra. With its independent oscillators, function generators, and the ability to stack signals into any input, the machine becomes a playground for those who crave tactile exploration. Manning’s patching tips are practical, but they also evoke a sense of wonder: every connection is a story waiting to unfold, every route a chance to sculpt the air in unexpected ways.

Sound examples in the video bloom like nebulae—sometimes familiar, sometimes utterly alien. Manning demonstrates the Cric’s ability to conjure classic subtractive synth voices, but it’s when he leans into the experimental that the machine truly exhales fog and fractured light. Oscillators sync and splice, filters fold and resonate, and the boundaries between tone and texture blur.

The Cric’s gain staging and modulation options allow for intricate layering, where square and saw waves merge, vibrato shimmers, and amplitude dances in relation to every parameter. Manning’s hands-on approach reveals the Cric as a living organism, capable of both subtle movement and wild, unpredictable shifts. The sound design here isn’t just technical—it’s narrative, each patch a vignette of mood and motion.

Some moments defy description: the scissor oscillator slicing between DNA plus and minus, the wave folder’s spectral shimmer, the filter’s resonance modulated into strange new realms. These are best experienced in the video itself, where the Cric’s voice becomes a living, breathing presence—one that words can only hint at.