Attack, Decay, Sustain, Release — and the Gate
ADSR in depth, the trigger-and-gate mechanism that explains why a held note sustains at all, and how to match an envelope to the way a real instrument behaves.
ADSR in depth, the trigger-and-gate mechanism that explains why a held note sustains at all, and how to match an envelope to the way a real instrument behaves.
An oscillator left alone drones forever at a constant level. Nothing about that resembles an instrument, and the difference between a drone and a note is entirely the work of an envelope.
An envelope generator produces no sound. It produces a value that changes over time, started by a note, and something else uses that value — most often the amplifier's gain and the filter's cutoff. It is a control source sitting alongside the audio path, not a stage within it.
The standard shape is ADSR, and the one thing to fix in your head immediately is that three of the four are times and one is not.
That single asymmetry accounts for a large share of all confusion about envelopes. Turning sustain up does not make notes last longer; it makes them sit higher while you hold them. If you want a note to ring on after you let go, the control is release.
Underneath the four stages is a mechanism worth understanding, because it explains behaviour the ADSR controls alone do not.
Pressing a key sends two different signals, not one.
The envelope runs attack and then decay on the trigger. It then holds at the sustain level for as long as the gate is open. When the gate closes, release begins.
So the gate is the answer to a question that otherwise has no answer: what decides how long the sustain stage lasts? Nothing in the envelope does. The player does, by holding the key, and the gate is how that information reaches the circuit.
Two practical consequences follow:
A classic subtractive synth has two envelope generators, and their destinations are conventional:
Instruments with more than two make the extras available as general-purpose modulation. The most useful third destination is pitch, and it is worth knowing one specific trick with it.
Route an envelope to pitch with a small amount and a very fast decay — a few tens of milliseconds — and the pitch drops briefly at the onset of every note. Too fast to hear as a change of note, it registers instead as a percussive attack transient. That is the click on a synthesised kick drum and the thump on a synth bass, and almost nothing else produces it convincingly.
Envelope times are usually shown as unlabelled knob positions, which leaves beginners with no calibration at all. Rough figures worth carrying:
For decays and releases, 100 to 300 ms reads as a short tail, 500 ms to 1.5 s as a natural instrumental decay, and beyond 2 s as something deliberately lingering. Long releases on a polyphonic patch are also the fastest way to run out of voices, since every released note holds one until it finishes.
Sustain is at maximum. You turn up decay and nothing happens. You turn it up more and still nothing happens, and you conclude the control is broken.
It is not. Decay describes the fall from the peak down to the sustain level. If sustain is already at maximum then there is no distance to fall, and decay has nothing to do regardless of its setting.
Decay only becomes audible once sustain is below full. That single relationship — decay is meaningless without headroom beneath it — is the most common confusion about ADSR envelopes, and it also explains the reverse case: on a plucked patch with sustain at zero, decay is the only control that matters and it single-handedly determines the character.
The two conventional destinations are conventional, not compulsory. An envelope is a control signal like any other, and on an instrument with a modulation matrix it can be pointed at anything:
A useful way to think about the difference between the two families: an envelope happens once per note, an LFO happens continuously. When you want something to change over the life of a note, you want an envelope, whatever the parameter is.
ADSR is a convention, not a law, and instruments extend it. The common extension is DAHDSR:
Also common: AD envelopes with no sustain or release, used for percussion and for modulation that should always be a fixed shape; and looping envelopes, which repeat their attack and decay for as long as the gate is open — at which point an envelope has effectively become an LFO with a custom waveform, which is another instance of the control-signal idea from the first lesson.
A stage described only by its duration leaves a question open: what path does it take from one level to the other?
Analog envelopes are exponential, because they are produced by capacitors charging and discharging, and that is what capacitors do. The value moves fast at first and progressively slower as it approaches its target.
This turns out to match how the ear works, which is a convenient accident rather than a design decision. A linear decay — falling by the same amount every millisecond — sounds unnaturally abrupt at the end, because a linear fall in amplitude is not a linear fall in perceived loudness. Anything decaying naturally in the physical world decays exponentially.
Digital instruments can do either and usually offer a curve control. The practical guidance: exponential for anything imitating a physical decay, linear for a controlled fade or a modulation shape you want to be predictable.
An envelope with fixed settings produces an identical note however it is played, which is the second-clearest giveaway of a programmed sound after a static filter.
The fix is velocity — how hard the key was struck — routed to envelope amounts. Two routings do most of the work, and they should usually both be present:
A related control worth finding is envelope tracking or time scaling, which shortens envelope times as you play higher up the keyboard. It exists because real instruments behave that way: a high piano note decays in a fraction of the time a low one takes, and the same holds across most struck and plucked instruments. Scaling envelope times with pitch reproduces the relationship, and it is one of the more effective realism adjustments available for the effort involved.
A patch has an amplitude envelope and a filter envelope, and the commonest programming error after leaving attack at zero is giving them the same shape.
They are describing different physical things. Amplitude describes how much energy the sound has; the filter envelope describes how that energy is distributed across the spectrum. In almost every real instrument those two do not track each other.
The general pattern, and it holds surprisingly widely:
A quick diagnostic for a patch that sounds nearly right and slightly plastic: shorten the filter envelope's decay and drop its sustain, leaving the amplitude envelope alone. It fixes more patches than any other single adjustment.
On a monophonic patch there is one voice and a decision to make whenever a second key is pressed while the first is held.
Note priority decides which note wins: the highest, the lowest, or the most recent. Classic instruments differ, and it is not a trivial detail — lowest-note priority makes a bass line behave one way under a trill and highest-note priority behaves another. Most modern instruments offer the choice.
Retrigger mode decides whether the envelopes restart. In multi-trigger they restart on every keypress, so every note is articulated. In single-trigger or legato mode they do not restart if a key was already down, so overlapping notes glide into one another with no new attack — which, combined with legato-only glide, is what makes a monophonic lead expressive under the fingers rather than merely monophonic.
Most recognisable patches are one of a small number of envelope archetypes applied to different waveforms. Learning them as shapes rather than as numbers makes programming much faster.
The single most common beginner error is worth naming: setting attack to zero on everything. It is the correct value for a great many sounds and the wrong one for anything meant to breathe, and a patch where nothing anywhere takes time to arrive sounds mechanical for a reason that is hard to identify unless you know to look for it.
Sustain is a level. Everything else in an ADSR is a time. Half of all envelope confusion is that one asymmetry.
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