Most people treat playlists as background utilities, mindlessly skipping tracks on streaming apps. But in the era of vinyl and physical CDs, an album’s artwork, color palette, and packaging were inseparable parts of the musical experience.
I believe that all the albums a person has ever absorbed, when gathered together, form a vibrant canvas of personal expression.
If these albums hold the emotional imprints and memories of countless distinct moments in our lives, why hide them inside collapsed lists and sterile UI menus?
So I created Music Wall.
At its heart, it takes every album you’ve ever listened to or favorited and tiles their cover art across a large ambient display (I originally ran it on our living room TV).
On screen, album covers gently flip, shift, and flow to an ambient rhythm.
Sitting in the room watching it feels like lounging in a private gallery curated entirely from your own listening history—auditory memories flowing in the air, visual art drifting before your eyes.
It transforms music from a background task buried in a smartphone into a living, breathing wall in your physical room. More than just an interface, it’s an attempt to restore tactile presence and spatial weight to sound.