Memory loses its sound first.

Rain on the window. An announcement at the station. A friend laughing at something you've already forgotten. You were there — but by next week the sound is gone. Photos survive. Sound doesn't.

Afterfade exists for that gap.

FIVE SECONDS. THAT'S THE WHOLE THING.

Point your camera at whatever is in front of you and hold it for five seconds. A sunset, a train platform, the coffee on your desk. Nothing to write, nothing to edit, nothing to make prettier. Five seconds and you're done.

There's no daily quota to keep up with. Like a roll of film sitting in your bag, you use it when something catches you — one fragment or five, whenever.

ORDINARY DAYS COUNT

Halfway through a walk. A platform in a town you're just visiting. A night spent alone. Nothing special has to happen — that day's colors and sounds exist only on that day. Play it back later and the hour that felt like nothing has turned into a small, unexpectedly pretty memory.

THOSE FIVE SECONDS TURN INTO MUSIC

Color is collected from the image, sound from the mic. The dull grey of an overcast sky, the murmur of a crossing, a silly "yoo-hoo" shouted at the camera — they become chord changes and tape texture. No two tracks are ever the same. You're not listening to someone else's song. You're listening to your own day.

SEVEN CAPTURES MAKE ONE MUSIC VIDEO

After the seventh, press REC. Like sending a roll of film off to be developed, the days you've been carrying fold into a single track — and the five seconds you shot become one music video set to it. Fill the roll in an afternoon or take a month — it makes no difference. Right now that sound is lo-fi: tape wobble and muffled noise sit closest to the texture of a memory that isn't perfect anymore. Even the walking around, wondering what to capture next, is part of it.

IT DOESN'T JUST PLAY — IT STAYS

Every finished track lands on your shelf as a cassette tape dyed in the colors you collected. The music video is a dreamcore-styled short film, and both it and the cassette can leave the app. Shoot seven on a trip, come home, and send someone the whole trip as one video.

WHAT YOU CAPTURE STAYS WITH YOU

The music is made entirely on your device. No account, no sign-in. The five seconds you record — and the color and sound pulled out of them — are never uploaded anywhere. Tracks are composed offline, with no connection needed. Whether anyone else ever hears it is always your call.

Afterfade isn't a social network. There's nothing to compare, no streak to break, no one to perform for, and no notification asking where you've been. It's just somewhere to hold on to what fades.

You can't remember the rain on August 12th.
But it's still falling, quietly, somewhere inside your September track.

HOW IT WORKS
1. Hold your camera on something for five seconds
2. Color is pulled from the image, sound from the mic
3. Seven captures complete a cycle
4. Press REC — your lo-fi track is composed on-device
5. Save or share the cassette and the music video

FEATURES
• Extracts color and sound from a 5-second capture
• Composes entirely on-device — no internet required, and your clips are never uploaded
• Seven captures complete one track
• A cassette shelf dyed in the colors you collected
• A dreamcore-styled music video built from your clips, set to your track
• Save to your gallery or share to social and messaging apps
• No account required