Be on the same wavelength. Reconnecting people through the music playing around them.
There was a time when music gathered people. Today, earphones have turned it into a personal bubble, the boombox replaced by a stream only you can hear.
Three archetypes emerged from 34 user interviews conducted with students and young adults in Lyon.
"We used to fight over the kitchen playlist. Now everyone just uses their own earphones. The kitchen feels emptier somehow."
"I always notice people who seem to be listening to something good. I can tell by how they move. But there's no way to cross that invisible wall."
"When I host, the playlist is as important as the food. But lately everyone disconnects into their own stream. My atmosphere collapses."
Observation reveals behaviors users couldn't articulate. Four field signals shaped the final design direction.
9/12 cited offering one earbud as their most intimate music memory, but said they "never share music anymore"
The physical half-share is the most profound musical gesture. HALO replaces the wire, not the intimacy.
All participants instinctively lowered volume when someone entered their space, even mid-sentence during interviews
Social music anxiety is automatic. The solution must eliminate imposition, not fight it.
Kitchen was unprompted by 11/12 as the last surviving shared music space. No one mentioned commute or office.
Music sharing endures only within shared rituals. HALO must attach itself to rituals, not disrupt them.
Groups of strangers in transit who shared musical tempo unconsciously synchronized subtle body language
Invisible resonance already exists. HALO makes it readable and connectable.
Mapping the moments where human musical connection is possible, and currently missed.
No existing tool combines active participation with genuine shared experience. HALO occupies this open quadrant.
Passive sharing (like Shazam) requires no gesture. HALO requires intentional orientation, making the connection felt, not tracked.
We interviewed students and young adults about their relationship with music in public and shared spaces. Four recurring patterns emerged.
I listen to music all the time on public transport but I never know what people around me are listening to. Sometimes I wish I could just... peek.
The only moment I share music is when I cook with friends. The kitchen is the one room where music is still communal. It feels different.
AirPods are a social barrier. I see people I'd love to talk to but with their earphones in I don't know how to break the ice, music could be that bridge.
I remember my dad putting music on for everyone in the kitchen every morning. Today I just put on a podcast alone. Something feels missing from that ritual.
Halo uses your phone's compass and gyroscope to detect who is casting music around you, and let you tune in to their signal by physically pointing your device toward them.
Early form studies, material tests, and structural sketches for the physical object. Finding how a phone stand becomes a compass.
Halo lives in the loneliest moment of daily life: cooking alone. The physical totem places your phone at eye level, its rotating cap lets you aim with an elbow, a wrist, the back of your hand.
Final app screens, from the live radar view to the signal-locked state. Sound waves react to the music's energy in real time.
An experimental concept-art version of Halo. Same project, narrated through waves, color, and the invisible crowd around you.
Enter Concept Art →