Claude Opus 5.5 vs GLM 5.3

Patchbay is three people in a narrow workshop near the Maas in Rotterdam. Every day we open up instruments that were built before most of their current owners were born. Some arrive in flight cases and some come wrapped in old bath towels. Most have a story: a Juno that went quiet halfway through a gig, a Minimoog left in someone's attic for thirty years, or a modular system that a previous technician gave up on.

We started Patchbay because we kept seeing good synthesizers sent off as "unrepairable" when all they needed was patience, a schematic and a steady hand. We swap out dried capacitors, hunt for intermittent faults, recalibrate oscillators until they track properly again, and source or rebuild parts that stopped being made decades ago.

We don't try to make old machines sound new. Our job is to make them sound like themselves again, and to make sure they keep working for the next person who plays them.

Patchbay is a three-person workshop in Rotterdam where vintage synthesizers come back to life. Whatever lands on our bench — a battered Minimoog, a Juno with dead keys, an ARP silent since the eighties — gets the same treatment: careful diagnosis, honest advice, and repairs done right.

We started Patchbay because we believe a good synthesizer shouldn't die of old age. These machines are more than circuits and sliders — they're the sound of records you grew up with, and the reason some of us got into music in the first place. Every one we fix goes back out into the world ready to make more.

Between us we handle everything from recapping and calibration to keybed work and the hunt for parts nobody has made in decades. It's slow, meticulous work, and we like it that way. If something in your collection hums, crackles, or refuses to turn on, bring it in — we'll see what we can do.