Every ship, as it lands. Built by working artists, in the open.
EQ, compressor and limiter now sit behind one chip on the player bar, in windows you can drag where you want them. Dials and faders rather than form controls, with a spectrum that draws the actual mix and gain reduction you can watch.
Playing something in Freqnt now shows the real track on your phone's lock screen, in your car and on your watch: title, artist and artwork, with the transport controls wired up properly.
The first thing HAAR says is now a real conversation rather than a note that vanishes the moment you type. It explains what Cloud, Catalogue and Analytics each hold, what a fork is for, and what he will and will not do without asking. It stays in your chat list, so you can go back to it.
Briefs, cue sheets and notes kept in a workspace open in place. No round trip through your downloads folder to check one line.
Hold a dragged track over a sidebar folder and it springs open so you can drop it inside. Dragging aims better, holds still when you want it to, and stops fighting the edge of the window. A locked workspace now actually refuses the drop.
Drag a box across your workspaces, or shift-click a run of them, and move or delete the lot in one go. A single click now selects, so opening a workspace is a double-click.
A world map on the explore page, shaded by what each territory actually paid. Pick a country to see the tracks and placements behind the number, and an honest list of anything the data could not place.
Selecting a cell starts pulling its stems in the background, so opening them is close to instant instead of a wait at the door.
A workspace with no artwork now carries a mark of its own: a circle or a square in one of the tool colours, drawn from its name, so it looks the same every time you come back to it.
Every email Freqnt sends now wears the same look as the app and the site. Paper, ink, and the tool colours, instead of the old warm-cream layout.
Statement imports now clean their titles on the way in: writer credits become composers, band names become the artist, and a PRO statement and a publisher statement for the same work land on one catalogue entry.
Whole numbers across the board: £5, £10, £30 a month. And small labels get a self-serve home. Indie Label brings your whole roster into Freqnt Cloud at £40 for 5 TB or £70 for 10 TB.
A full redesign, inside and out. The new marketing site, block colour through the whole app, and a neutral paper light theme to match. Same tools, better clothes.
Every level of a track is now one click away: a single cell's file, a whole version as a zip, or the entire track with every version, variant and stem organised into folders.
Stems open in the page instead of a cramped dialog. The sidebar steps aside, the lanes take the room, and comments live in the same column they always do.
A burst of review ticks now reads as one line, not ninety-seven. Cells with new activity carry an orange dot that clears the moment you open them.
MYMA royalty statements import and reconcile to the cent, and the parser now reads French period notation. 4T2024 means what you think it means.
Drag across the waveform to comment on a span, not just a moment. Overlapping sections get their own colours so a busy chorus stays readable.
Notification emails name the track, the variant and the timecode, and a burst of uploads becomes one digest instead of an inbox full of near-identical messages.
Pick the societies you deliver to and the catalogue shows how many works are ready for each. Exports include only the works that pass, so nothing half-filled leaves the building.
The full track page works on mobile: the matrix, the waveform, comments and mentions, sized for thumbs.
Revise a version in place. V9 becomes V9.1 with its files, stems and comments carried over, and anything you replace starts its conversation fresh.
The analytics landing tells you what changed and why: headline numbers, the tracks that moved them, and the sources behind the totals.
Labels get their own tier: shared catalogues, team seats, and a subdomain of their own.