These are the cards we put on the floor at Alone Together. Forty-six of them. Forty-six questions.
The project started with an EP about the feeling of being surrounded by people and still somehow alone. The music was built from nostalgia, from the way a sound can take you straight back to a moment you hadn't thought about in years. And when we brought that into a room, we needed a way to help people talk about it. Not in the abstract. In the specific. In the personal.
That's what the cards do. A prompt about a song is never really about the song. It's about what was happening when that song was playing. Where you were. Who you were with. What changed after. Music bonds itself to those moments without asking permission, and when someone asks you the right question about it, all of that comes out. You're not describing a preference. You're unpacking a piece of your actual life.
At Alone Together, that's what happened. A room of strangers became a room of people who'd actually met, because the prompts gave them a way in that felt real rather than forced. The music was already doing half the work. The cards just asked the question.
Now they're yours to use anywhere. At dinner. On a long drive. With someone you've known for years and somehow never really talked to. Pull a card. Answer it honestly. See where it goes.
Music bonds itself to memory. These cards find the stories underneath.
