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Synthesizer in sentence

31 examples of Synthesizer in a sentence

It had a speech synthesizer.
So you send an e-mail with these sequences in it to a company, and the company pronounces them on a DNA synthesizer, a machine about the size of a photocopier.
This man is Robert Moog, the inventor of the Moog synthesizer, who passed away this past August.
Then you're going to have a compiler that's going to take that description and it's going to turn it into actual molecules that can be sent to a synthesizer and that synthesizer will pack those molecules into a seed.
You can compile it to molecules, send it to a synthesizer, and it actually works.
Written, directed, shot, scored and edited with an appalling lack of flair and finesse by the singularly talentless Rick Sloane (who later disgraced celluloid some more with the absolutely atrocious "Hobgoblins"), this horrendously ham-fisted attempt at a slasher spoof strikes out something rotten in every conceivable way: the excruciatingly lethargic pacing, the painfully static, grainy cinematography (there's a stinky surplus of drab master shots featured throughout), an annoyingly droning and redundant hum'n'shiver synthesizer score, the flat (non)direction, a tediously talky and uneventful script, the groan-inducing sophomoric sense of lowbrow humor, the bloodless murder set pieces, a pitifully unscary killer (he's just some wrinkled-up old guy in pasty make-up), the uniformly obnoxious and unappealing characters, a dissatisfyingly abrupt ending, and lifeless performances from a noticeably uninspired cast all ensure that watching this schlocky swill is about as fun and rewarding as eating rancid raw eels drenched with sour vinegar.
The synthesizer based soundtrack is even worse than the one in Deathstalker.
It sounds as if someone took a simple beat and then, for the rest of it, let a 5 year old child run amok with a synthesizer and taped it.
Mike Vickers' neatly varied score alternates between jaunty orchestral music and wonky droning synthesizer stuff.
Directed, co-written, co-produced and co-edited with dumbfounding maladroitness by Melanie Anne Phillips, acted with dismaying flatness by a rank no-name cast, further marred by lethargic pacing, a drably meandering narrative, murky, under-lit, eye-straining cinematography, a shivery, redundantly thudding pseudo-John Carpenter synthesizer score, and a cruddy, herky-jerky stop motion animation wormoid thingie that's only quickly glimpsed at the very end of the movie, this extremely clunky, amateurish and hence quite delectably dreadful would-be scarefest commits all the necessary bad film missteps to qualify as a real four-star stinkeroonie.
Moreover, we've also got rough, grainy cinematography that constantly alternates between washed-out color and grimy black and white, ineptly staged fight scenes, lousy acting from a uniformly pathetic no-name cast (Jerry Angell in particular cops the top crummy thespic dishonors for his laughably abysmal histrionics as slimy no-count psycho criminal Joe Bob), a grating head-banging thrash metal soundtrack, and a generic shivery'n'ominous synthesizer score.
Drones, ethnic drumming, bad synthesizer piping, children singing.
Besides the synthesizer, the saxophone was the most abused instrument in pop music during the 1980s, as is evident in the title song.
To top it all off, the music is straight from a synthesizer and sounds unbelievably terrible.
I could go buy a cheap synthesizer and crank out better opening music.
However, it is the synthesizer score that really drives this picture as it seems to almost put the viewer into the film.
I don't need to see Robert Moog talking about pepper plants and Money Mark diddling around on a synthesizer.
(at 60 minutes it's not much of a feature either) Bob Moog invented, you know, the Moog synthesizer, which as the movie illustrates has been the source of lots of directions in music, some legendary (Bernie Worrell), lots fun (Stereolab), and lots of atrocities against the ear (Rick Wakeman, Keith Emerson).
It sounds like some kids decided to have fun with a synthesizer and the film makers wanted to put it in for kicks.
Massacre" is an abysmal slasher flick directed by porn director Stu Segall.There are some bloody killings,but the gore effects are crude and amateurish.The pace is slow,the acting is painfully bad and the synthesizer score is beyond awful.Easily the best thing about this insanely rotten piece of festering cow-dung is its short running time.The only way to enjoy "Drive-In Massacre" is to drink lots of alcohol.3 out of 10 for providing me a few laughs.
A good synthesizer score cannot make up for the fact that this anemic horror film is dull as the dirt the dead rise out of.
This was probably the worst movie sound, I've ever heard: the same bad composition played on a cheap synthesizer over and over, so by the middle of the movie, you have an urge to turn the sound off and just read the subtitles.
The score give it's parts perfectly to it, old 70s synthesizer - sounds bring mad and scary atmosphere.
The 80's synthesizer bridging music is annoying at times.
And (spoiler alert) please people, escaping from the grasp of the military on a top secret installation and actually allowed to get away so they can take a peek at that horrible giant Fisher-Price synthesizer and watch the pretty UFO's dart about all dressed up in their finest Christmas season trim!
As a rule whenever I run into a movie that has music created entirely using a synthesizer my brain flashes on the word "CHEAP".
Invasion from Inner Earth - I know it's slow moving but it does have a certain charm I attribute it to ITO's eerie synthesizer score.
Marcello Giombini's wonky synthesizer score does the spine-tingling trick.
I must say that this documentary is a rather poor tribute both to Robert Moog and the Moog synthesizer for a myriad of reasons.
Kenneth J. Hall's pathetic (mis)direction, Hall's equally dismal script (Hall is the same genius dreck feature scribe who penned the brilliant screenplay for "Nightmare Sisters"), Christopher Condon's endearingly crude'n'clunky cinematography, the dreadful dialogue ("Aren't they the ones who do those schlocky low budget films in Italy?"), the cheesy gore, nil suspense, sluggish pacing, terrible acting, a laughably hokey some-poor-guy-in-an-obvious-rubber-suit monster, Paul Natzke's annoyingly droning synthesizer score, and even a heavy-handed morale about the perils of vanity ensure that this hilariously horrendous honey is an absolute campy hoot from start to finish.