This is the Aston Martin of Minimoogs and, as such, it’s not easy to sum up this instrument without resorting to hyperbole. It’s a fantasy synth for almost everyone reading this (or writing it!) in that I doubt too many of us will be lucky enough to legitimately spare £4,000 on a mono synth. (Yes, all those keys and just one note at a time.) As such, this may have to be added to the luxury list of items which will always be beyond our means. That doesn’t mean we can’t love it, yearn for it, whisper about it, giggle like school-children about it, lust after it at trade shows and envy anyone who owns one. And if you do have the means we can’t think of a more enjoyable and magnificent way to empty your wallet. The one thing you should take away from this review is that if you’re sold enough on the magic of analogue synths then the Voyager XL is every bit as good as you could ever hope for. It sounds better than superb, it’s a wonder to play and it’s just glorious to program and listen to. I’m in the privileged position of having many a synth pass through my door for review purposes but none have ever made me open-mouthed in appreciation of their sonic potential, build quality and sheer presence quite like this one. The sound is simply so good it’s almost beyond description and the new five-octave keyboard really lets you effortlessly explore the full range of the XL’s capabilities. It’s also capable of producing cold sweats when you generate a rumbling bass sound and you realise you’re playing C3. There’s a dawning realisation that with two octaves further down to play, it might be time to protect your speakers. If your mission is to track down the holy grail of analogue synths then it’s time to board the good ship XL.