Patches as things

Kári Halldórsson, the inventor behind FIRST LOVE, had a radical design principle for the instrument: avoid written language altogether — no words, no numbers. Instead, the interface would communicate through shapes, symbols and movement.

I was sceptical at first. But the idea grew on me, and what initially seemed like an eccentric constraint became one of the defining qualities of the instrument’s visual language — and eventually the brand around it.

Saving sounds became one way to explore that principle. The early prototype started with a familiar structure: a grid of slots for saved sounds, each personalised by drawing directly onto the screen.

That small act of drawing suggested a different direction. Instead of treating the drawing as decoration on a save slot, we could make the patch itself a recognisable object.

We treated the collection more like an RPG inventory than a conventional save/load browser. Sounds became things to collect, arrange and move around, with identities as personal as the sounds themselves.

Drawing directly onto a patch gives a saved sound its own visual identity. A face, a symbol or a quick scribble becomes your way of recognising it in the collection.

Pick up a patch and drop it onto one of FIRST LOVE’s four timbres. Choosing a sound becomes part of playing the instrument.

The same patch model continues into the Sharing Hub, where sounds remain objects to organise and move between the instrument and its browser companion.