Tap squares. Or write code. Same track, either way.
Free. Nothing to install. Sound in about thirty seconds.
Light a square and it writes a line of Strudel you can read. Paste a hand-written track and the lanes fill themselves from it — with a ruler, a zoom, and a playhead that only lights where the music actually is.
Eight drum lanes, two pitched rolls, chords by scale degree. The code panel shows what every click just wrote.
Edit one lane of a pasted track and only that part is rewritten. Your comments and your arrangement survive byte for byte.
“A slow, menacing industrial loop in D minor.” Three AI edits a track, with an undo that puts the old one back.
Seventy-nine of them, searchable, each writing itself in at the cursor — and a line explaining whatever the caret sits on.
808s, 909s, breaks, tablas, vocal scraps, noise. Every pitched voice carries twenty-two parameters — envelopes, FM, unison, drive, bitcrush, delay, reverb, vibrato — and six presets if you would rather just pick one.
Level, pan, mute and solo per lane, with reverb, drive and bitcrush on the channel strip.
Build a verse, a chorus and a break, then say what order they play in. Eight sections, as many bars as you like.
WAV for the video. MIDI for the DAW. Or the Strudel itself, to paste anywhere else.
Every track gets a link and its own artwork. Open somebody's, change one part, make it yours.
A sequencer that rebuilds your file from six lanes will quietly delete the eleven parts it cannot see. This one refuses instead — and tells you which part, and why.
“Changed lowbass (bar 3 of 4) — the other 4 parts are untouched.” an actual message from the app
The sequencer is open to anyone. An account is for keeping it.