Woody Piano Shack’s Gear Bloodbath: Tier Rankings, Regrets, and $1,000 Down the Drain

Let’s talk pain: after all the buying and selling, Woody’s wallet is lighter by about $1,000. That’s after tallying up the sale prices, not even including all the shipping and fees (another $500 gone, just like that). It’s what happens when you go full gear goblin, chasing the next best thing and flogging yesterday’s hero on the used market. But hey, as Woody says, it’s all part of the experiment – and at least he got some YouTube ad revenue and a mountain of hands-on experience along the way.

Woody goes device by device, sparing no feelings. Some boxes, like the Korg Monologue and OP-Z, get crowned as absolute street weapons: compact, hands-on, and just begging to be played in a rave bunker. Others – looking at you, OG OP-1 and certain Roland boutiques – get dragged for workflow crimes, dodgy build, or just sounding like a toaster fighting a hair dryer. Each evaluation is a cocktail of price paid, cash lost (or rarely, gained), and whether the thing actually inspired music or just gathered dust. When a synth has a joystick that crackles or a looper that bricks itself, Woody calls it out. If a groovebox has more button combos than a cheat code manual, it’s not escaping unscathed.

But there’s nuance: some gear gets a high rank even if it’s sold on, simply because it brought joy or nailed its sound. The Behringer TD-3, Roland TB-03, and MC-101 all get their moments in the sun, but none escape the harsh light of comparison. Woody’s main gripes? Overcomplicated menus, underwhelming polyphony, and that eternal curse: tiny outputs. If you want every war story and sonic facepalm, you’ll have to watch for the detailed anecdotes and raw sound examples.

After the dust settles, Woody gets real about the emotional side of gear collecting. ‘Gear guilt’ is the mood: that nagging feeling when synths sit in the corner, unused and unloved, just ticking down your bank balance while you chase new toys. Woody admits he needs to rotate his arsenal to stay inspired – and to avoid the existential dread of a room full of intimidating, rarely-touched boxes. The plan? Keep the absolute bangers, sell the rest, and make space for the next wave of sonic chaos. Turns out, even A-tier kit gets the boot if it’s not firing up the creative bunker.