The home of human-inspired sample libraries

In pursuit of progress,
not perfection

Westwood started from an idea that writing music when you’re in front of a screen would be much better if samples and virtual instruments weren’t stripped of all signs of life. We know that what makes music feel human and alive is not always being exactly in tune or in time. It’s the flaws that often make music sound most beautiful. 

For this reason our mission is in the pursuit of progress, not perfection. We craft unique digital instruments that are inspiring to use and put you in a creative headspace.

We have customers from all over the world, with our sample libraries on the hard drives of A-list composers, bedroom hobbyists and everyone in-between. We’re proud we can serve the whole spectrum and if you love making music then you’re welcome here.

One note at a time

Our approach to sampling starts with interesting ideas and talented people first, asking how can we make sounds that don’t exist anywhere else.

We capture performances in rooms that sound amazing with brilliant engineers using world-class equipment.

Our aim is to create the same mojo and magic you would when making a record. The only difference is, we do it one note at a time.

We pay and treat everyone involved fairly and a purchase from us is helping other creatives and their families to make a living through music.

We offer our musicians a royalty from every sale of a product they are involved in making. Every time you buy something from us, a small proceed goes directly back to the person that was in front of the microphone.

Westwood was founded by Rob Hill in 2019 and is now made up of a small team of talented individuals. From choosing a microphone to crafting individual samples, we are dedicated in every chapter of the story to create the best sample libraries we can.

“My journey into computer music started when I was 12. I lived in the middle of the countryside with not many people around, let alone anyone else I could make music with. I found in the classifieds of the local paper, a second-hand Atari ST and a copy of Cubase v1.0 that I paid £40 for (about six and a half weeks of paper rounds.) It had a power switch that gave me an electric shock every time I turned it on, but the juice was worth the squeeze because now I had an entire orchestra in my bedroom. After filling a floppy disk with terrible reproductions of the Mission Impossible theme, a life-long vocation was born.”