Lifesound.

Lifesound started as a note on my phone. Summer 2025, a van crossing the French Alps, a friend at the wheel and a landscape that didn’t fit in any photo. I wrote: “I wish there were a place to keep sounds.”

It wasn’t a product idea. It was a complaint. We photograph everything, and yet the sound of an ordinary dinner with friends, rain on an awning or a market on a Sunday has never been part of what we keep or what we share. A photo shows you the moment; a sound takes you back to it. And nobody had built the place to keep it.

A year later, that place exists. I built it alone.

I come from growing social networks: 21Buttons, Peoople, Holafly’s subscription business. I know how the attention game is built because building it was my job: the infinite feed, the public numbers, the variable reward that turns posting into pulling a lever.

When I sat down to design Lifesound, the question wasn’t “what app do I make” but “what happens if you take the game away”. No feed to scroll, no streaks, no numbers to chase: what’s left? What people wanted from the start: to keep their life and share it with the people they care about.

You save moments (one tap, and you put the phone away) and they stay as pins on the exact spot where you were. You can always go back.

Four decisions define the product:

The part of the product I’m proudest of isn’t a screen: it’s an arc. A product whose value arrives in the future (going back to a moment) has a structural onboarding problem: people create, but never live the return. I redesigned the whole first week around one promise: save a moment today, and tonight the app gives it back to you.

Every truth of the product is taught once, at the moment it becomes true. The notification permission is asked as a promise (“shall I let you know tonight, so you can listen to it?”), not as a toll. No tutorials, no carousels: empty states teach and messages arrive when they’re needed. The whole first session asks for six decisions at most. And there is one visual language, a breathing sonar, with Reduce Motion support.

The acceptance test is a question: at the end of their first session, can someone answer what this app is, who can listen to what they just saved, and what will happen tonight?

One person, with a way of working that turns AI agents into a team: user research and applied psychology as the basis of every decision, master execution documents that feed the code and design agents, and one non-negotiable rule: plan first, approval, then execution. Staging before production, security policies tested with automated suites and an activation funnel measured from day one.

To me, this way of working is as much part of the case as the app: it shows that a complete product (data, design, front end, release, positioning) can come out of a single head without lowering the bar.

Live on the App Store in Spanish and English, nominated to be featured, with a product page telling the story in both languages. The map comes alive city by city, starting with Alicante.

What’s next: a daily notification from your people, sound walks around the world and expansion city by city, guided by the data from the local launch.

The default is the product. Switching from “public by default” to “private by default” isn’t a setting: it changes what the app is, what it measures and who it exists for.

If your value arrives in the future, show the future. Explaining the magic doesn’t pass it on; people have to live it in the first minute.

Calm is designed too. No feed, no streaks, no red numbers. Every absence is a decision, and it’s harder to defend than adding a feature.