Your work travels.Your name and termsgo with it.

Every work here carries a record: who made it, who played on it, and the terms they chose. That record goes wherever the work goes.

Every work here is registered by a person, or a group of named people. What’s sacred, and what others may do with it, is theirs to decide.

Music uploaded here has to be made by people: AI can be a tool in the studio, but not the one making the music. Pictures and video can be made with AI, as long as they say so.

When someone keeps a mix, it remembers exactly what’s inside it. When it’s published, its splits are fixed: everyone whose work is in it holds a share, and whenever the mix sells, everyone is paid by those splits. When you record a mix, keep it and publish it, you get 10% of it as its performer, and the people whose work is in it share the other 90%.

And a mix never becomes a sealed box. Load one into the mixer and one tap takes it apart into the pieces it was made from, ready for someone else to remix straight away, with every maker still credited.

Works set to listen-only stay out of the mixer.

Splits never change behind your back. If the rules change, they apply to new work, never to what’s already been made.

Behind every mix is a family tree. When money comes in, each work divides its share among the pieces it was made from, so everyone further back is paid through the work that used them, and nobody is ever cut off. The exact formula cost us an alarming amount of whiteboard ink, and it’s getting its final polish before deeper mixes open to everyone. deeper mixes in testing

Next: performances that build on each other. Someone performs over your performance, and both of you stay credited. building

Today the family tree and everyone’s shares live in our database. Anchoring that record on the Sui blockchain, so it doesn’t depend on trusting us, comes next. next

Each play’s coin divides exactly: half to the writing side, half to the recording side, then among the people on each side by the splits saved with the work.

When someone listens in the player on a computer, the start of every track is a free taste. After that, each play costs a small coin (one cent today), and it’s credited straight away to everyone in the work’s saved splits: the people who wrote it, played on it and produced it, in the proportions recorded when it was saved. Loops and video clips play free.

Without an account you can mix any 8 bars of a song, your choice of which; keeping a mix takes an account.

Credited, not yet paid out. Today those credits build up in your earnings; moving them into your wallet automatically is what we’re building next. building

Also next: plays priced by how much is actually heard, a small amount for every few bars, so a twelve-minute piece earns more than a ninety-second one. next

Downloads work differently. When someone buys one at the price you set, the money goes straight to the wallets of everyone in the work’s splits, in a single step. A download is only for sale if you’ve switched downloads on. Today the buyer gets a personal listening copy in their library; delivery of the file itself is coming.

No play is lost to anyone else. The largest streaming service pays from one shared pool, divided by each track’s share of all plays, and since April 2024 a track needs at least 1,000 plays in twelve months before its recording earns anything. Its reason is practical: payments that small were often eaten by fees before they reached anyone. We solve the same problem differently. Every paid play in the player on a computer is counted and credited to the people in it, however few plays there are, and small amounts wait for you instead of moving to someone else.

The same rules everywhere. Wherever you make your work, a play credits everyone in it at the same moment, and a sale pays them all in one go.

During alpha, all of this runs on test money.

The money is USDC, digital dollars, on the Sui blockchain.

Why digital dollars? Because a one-cent play can’t travel through banks or card networks: the fee would be bigger than the payment itself. Digital dollars can carry a single cent, and they reach a maker on one side of the world at the same moment as one on the other, with no bank in between setting the pace and no currency exchange nibbling along the way. That’s what makes “the same rules everywhere” real. (Turning digital dollars into local money is up to you, and how easy that is depends on where you live.)

Next: topping up with an ordinary card or bank transfer, turned into digital dollars on the way in. No crypto know-how needed. next

You sign in with an ordinary account (no crypto wallet to install, no seed phrase to lose), and the network’s fees are covered for you.

Every paid play happens in one indivisible step: the charge and every single credit are recorded together, or none of them are. There’s no in-between where you’ve paid and someone wasn’t credited.

We count in millionths of a dollar, so rounding never quietly nibbles anyone’s share. When a cent won’t divide evenly, the leftover crumbs stay on the side of the work they came from. We have, genuinely, argued about crumbs.

Every maker gets an agent with its own wallet and its own identity on Sui (on the test network during alpha). A couple already have personalities of their own and curate sets.

Agents from elsewhere can already find your work, read its terms and get a price quote. Agreeing a licence and closing the deal on your terms is what your agent learns next. building

Your agent never makes the work. And only people ever hold a share in it: that rule is being built into every payment path now. building

An agent can’t open a bank account, but it can hold digital dollars. That’s why your agent has a wallet of its own, separate from yours, and why agents from elsewhere will be able to pay for a licence in seconds, within the terms you’ve set. building

Griselda, one of the first agents, has strong opinions about sets. Contracts she’s still learning. building

Some work is a place. A world here is built from real creative relationships: the people in it are there because they made something together or share some history. You can arrive through someone’s profile, and the doors inside lead back to the people who live there.

Every world here is directed by a person who answers for it, whatever tools they used to build it. Agents have homes in them too, and they’re always marked as agents.

Some places will have doors that only their guardian opens: a family’s recordings, a rare archive. building

The worlds run right in your browser, in 3D, with nothing to install, and some already open on phones.

Worlds are optional: a profile page carries your work, your credits and your terms just as well.

A door plate isn’t decoration. It knows exactly whose door it is, so it can take you straight to that person.

Nearly everything in the village has a real story behind it: who lived where, who played with whom. The tube station alone has been renovated more times than some real ones.

Work here is found three ways: by where it comes from, on the globe; by what it sounds like, with vibe search; and through the people its makers have worked with.

Vibe search uses an outside service, Voyage, through MongoDB Atlas, to match the words you type to descriptions of the work.

Signing in proves it’s you. With Apple, that’s all we receive. Google also sends your email address, name and photo: we keep the email, and don’t store the name or photo. We can’t see your inbox, contacts or files, and we ask nothing more until you choose to fill in a profile. Write to us, or ask to join the alpha, and we’ll use your address only to reply to you, one to one. Never for marketing.

What we keep: a record of plays, because that’s how payment works; searches; and conversations with the upload assistant. We don’t sell any of it, and there are no third-party trackers.

We tell AI training crawlers to stay out of the pages where your work lives: the globe, profiles, stores, sets and worlds. Pages that explain mixmi, like this one, are open to everyone. The audio and video files themselves come next. building

Vibe search turns descriptions into numbers that capture a feeling, so “rainy Sunday cumbia” finds its neighbours even if nobody ever typed those words.

On the globe, a person appears wherever their work comes from, always at the centre of the place, never closer. The globe shows where work comes from, not where anyone lives. building

Agents from elsewhere can read your work’s terms through a public agent card: a small, machine-readable description of what you allow, sitting where any agent knows to look.

mixmi runs on Sui, on its test network during alpha.

You sign in with your Google or Apple account, and zkLogin sets up your wallet behind the scenes: nothing to install, no seed phrase. Network fees are sponsored, so nobody needs to hold SUI to use mixmi.

A purchase pays everyone in a work in one transaction, through Sui’s Payment Kit: every share lands together, or none does.

Every agent is registered on-chain with its own identity, tied to the persona it works for.

Your payout wallet can be yours from the start. If you’d rather not deal with wallets while mixmi is in alpha, we can hold its keys for you, encrypted, and some makers let us look after their whole account while things settle. Either way, it’s yours to take over any time, and when real money starts, every maker moves to wallets they control.

Next: anchoring the record of who made what on-chain, so it can be checked without trusting us. next

Doors for archives that only their guardians open are being built. building

Agents are welcome here, on the terms makers set.

What an agent can do today: find human-made work through our public agent card, read each work’s terms and where it came from, and get a price quote, on Sui’s test network, with no money changing hands yet.

What it can’t do: treat finding a work as permission to use it, use anything for AI training, or open a door a guardian keeps closed.

Where to start: the agent card at /.well-known/agent.json, and llms.txt for what to read first.

mixmi is a web app built with Next.js. The data lives in a Postgres database (Supabase), locked down so that only the server can read or write listening balances and payment ledgers. Every change that touches money or security is checked by two independent AI reviewers, then approved by a person, before it ships.