Few pieces of vintage audio gear from the turn of the century (the previous one) inspire the kind of devotion that a Leslie speaker does. Sure, there are plenty of pieces that are rarer or more valuable, but the Leslie speaker has such a big following because of its uniqueness of physically moving sound around a room. Two rotating devices in the speaker physically direct the sound around the cabinet with musician-controlled speed, and this sound remains extremely difficult to reproduce faithfully without the moving components. But originals are enormous and meant for organs, so [Eric] built a 40% replica with a few modern touches for his guitar.

The build starts with a CAD model, where [Eric] works towards making the most accurate enclosure for his speaker as possible. The CAD model heads out to a CNC machine which can care most of the details into the wood, and he eventually is able to finish it, although it took a few tries with stains and paintbrushes of various types. For the speakers themselves, he’s using modern versions including modern brushless motors to drive the rotating elements. Like the original speaker, the high range of sound is sent through a rotating set of horns, of which one is only a counterweight, and the low range is directed out of the bottom of the cabinet through a large rotating drum. Both rotating elements here are 3D printed, and with everything put together and wired up [Eric] has a much more portable, faithful recreation of the original Leslie speaker.

There are some upgrades in the wiring too, which makes it work better with a guitar rather than for an organ. It’s also much lighter, and was a hit when he took it to let a few other guitarists to play as well. It’s not the first time we’ve seen the Leslie’s movement recreated for guitar, but it is the most alike to the classic 1930s-era speaker we’ve seen so far.

It’s technically true that any piece of software can be reproduced in hardware, although modern software’s size and complexity generally makes this a non-starter. But if we go far enough back in time, older software becomes easier and easier to implement in hardware. The original DOOM from 1993 might one day be recreated in full this way, but that day is not today. Instead, [Nick] has recreated the original music from that game, playing the opening track in nothing but 555 timers.

The circuit starts with a 555 timer that acts as a system clock with a rate of just over 7 Hz. These pulses feed a binary counter which in turn feeds a decoder, giving the circuit 15 positions. Each output of the decoder feeds to a diode matrix which stores information about what pitch the circuit should play. The circuit only needs to play six pitches so the diodes effectively connect each moment in time to one of these six notes. From there the circuit feeds into a set of switches which select different resistor networks of another 555 which is actually responsible for producing sound. The resistor networks have different values to adjust the timing of the 555 to produce different pitches.

Of course this entire exercise is largely academic as almost any microcontroller would be able to be programmed to play this chiptune quite easily, but it’s not a bad idea to get down into the weeds of digital logic from time to time in order to refine one’s skills and knowledge about what’s really going on in the inner workings of circuits. Or, go even deeper than that and build the logic gates themselves from first principles.

All but a few of our very youngest readers are surely familiar with music formats that rely on optical disks. When we say [RobDevBuilds] made a MOD tracker that uses an optical disk, then, you might be forgiven for thinking he stuck a bunch of MOD files onto a CD– MOD files being a format of electronic music that was conceived of on the Commodore Amiga that is still used to this day. A dedicated MOD-CD player might be a fun project, but it’s not what [Rob] did; his project is far more impressive and impractical, as he’s come up with a way to encode the MOD files on paper for optical playback. This way the Amiga’s legacy can be preserved longer than the paltry thousand years promised by the optical M-disk format.

Zooming way, way in on the disk reveals that he’s actually printing the patterns of the MOD file row by row, just like you’d see playing it in a ‘tracker’ program. A MOD file, you see, does not encode music like a WAV or MP3; rather, like with MIDI, it lists the notes the software reading the file– traditionally called a tracker–is to recreate. Unlike a MIDI file, though, you don’t have to store the same notes more than once: repeating sections are stored in patterns. So most of the disk is just a long list of hexadecimal numbers: several columns worth, one for each ‘voice’ or instrument playing in the song. Another difference with MIDI is that MOD files are self-contained in that they are supposed to contain the samples, which isn’t in evidence until you flip over the disk.

There’s no B-side to [Rob]’s album; instead a QR-code like series of barcodes is used to encode the samples used in each track on the disk, as well as other information needed to recreate the MOD file, including metadata like title and artist, and the sequencing of the patterns on the front. Of course this means he needs two cameras on his physical mod player, one on each side, and steppers to slide them across the disk like a linear tracking turntable. The front is read via OCR of his modified Amiga “Topaz” font, while the rear holds the first 1084 bytes of the MOD file in a QR-inspired format [Rob] produced specifically for this project.

Unlike the last time we saw someone store music in QR codes, the more modest size requirements of modfiles– something that led to their use in keygens— means this player can store the music’s 8-bit sound samples without the OPUS compression [Rob] is using affecting fidelity. He’s working on another video to give the details of the player– as he works out the bugs, right now it can’t jump betwixt patterns on the disk as fast as some modfiles need–but we’re willing to hazard a guess he’s got a Raspberry Pi in there, and that it’s probably not running the Amiga-inspired AROS operating system.