Warrior
"Stay right beside me, I'm in it."
What Cadenza does
Not an app you visit. A companion that shows up — gently, through the day, with one small thing at a time. Only when you want it.
The healthcare system helps manage the disease.
Cadenza helps you live your life.
the spine
Every thirty to sixty minutes, one thing. Never a list.
Here is the mechanical difference between Cadenza and everything else you've been offered.
Every other product waits. It sits on a home screen being available, and the burden of remembering it, opening it, and deciding what to do falls on you. That works for people who wake up with momentum.
Cadenza reaches out first. A voice arrives with one small thing — a breath, a stretch, a joke, a line in your journal — and does it with you. Then it lets go and comes back later.
Why one thing and not a list: a list is a decision, and on a hard morning the decision is the expensive part. One thing is a yes or a no.
This is a general wellness routine that belongs to you. Never medication timing. Never dose logic. Never a symptom score.
the part nobody builds for
Some days the hardest part isn't doing the thing. It's starting it.
Not because you don't want to. Because starting takes something that isn't always there, and no amount of deciding to try harder puts it back.
That's why Cadenza starts for you. The nudge arrives on its own. You never have to open an app, or work out what you ought to be doing, or find the will to begin.
It's already begun. All that's left is to say yes, or not today.
the daily companion
Small things, offered one at a time
Daily affirmation Now
One hundred and nineteen of them, written in this house, by hand.
That number matters for a reason nobody mentions: most wellness apps license a pool of a few dozen affirmations, which means you meet the same words again by week three and they stop landing. Ours run about eleven weeks before a repeat, and none of them tell you to fight, battle, or overcome anything.
Read aloud if you want them read aloud. We own every word, so nothing can be pulled out from under you.
Daily joy Now
A hundred and twenty-two jokes, also written here.
Not one is about age, forgetting things, or being unwell. That exclusion cost us about forty easy jokes. A companion that jokes about your condition is a companion you eventually stop opening.
Daily gratitude Now
One line. A warm cup counts.
Forty-two prompts, and the last one on the list reads: "If nothing comes to mind, that's an honest answer and we'll leave it there."
No streak. No count. No "you've done this seven days running." The moment a gratitude practice becomes a scoreboard it becomes a chore, and chores are what your day already has too many of.
Voice journal Now
Speak instead of typing.
Typing demands precision from fingers that may not be cooperating. Speaking doesn't. So here is exactly what happens to what you say: the audio is sent for transcription, the words are kept, the recording is thrown away. No voiceprint stored. No voice model built. Nobody can ever produce a recording of you saying something you didn't say.
We could keep the audio. It would make the product better in several measurable ways. We don't.
Music library Soon
Twenty commissioned briefs — meditation, movement, evening wind-down, and three written specifically for humming along to.
The briefs exist and the audio is in production. We're not scraping anyone's catalogue, and we're not calling a licensing agreement a music library before it's signed.
Daily reflection Now
A conversation with something that knows you. Not a chatbot answering from nothing — grounded in what you've told it, across every session you've had.
it remembers you
Three layers, and only one of them is ever awake
Here's a problem nobody in this category talks about, because the answer is embarrassing.
Remembering you is expensive. Every conversation adds to what has to be carried into the next one, and the carrying costs money on every single message. So most companion apps do one of two things: they forget everything the moment you close them, or they remember so much that they slow down, cost more every month, and eventually start dropping things anyway — usually the things that mattered.
Cadenza solves this with a piece of engineering we call the Distiller.
After each conversation it compresses what happened into a small set of durable facts — the kind a friend would actually retain. Where you grew up. That you'd rather have music than a joke before ten. That your granddaughter's recital is on the fourteenth.
Those facts sit in three layers. Only the smallest is ever loaded, and it is capped — not "kept small," capped — at two thousand words. That ceiling is enforced in three places, including a constraint in the database itself that will physically reject anything larger.
Cadenza costs the same to run on your one-thousandth day as it does on your first. It doesn't slow down. It doesn't start forgetting.
Most software gets more forgetful as it ages. This gets less.
Nothing is configured Now
There is no settings screen. There never will be one.
What Cadenza knows about you, it learned by listening. That's slower on day one and considerably better by day thirty — and it means nobody hands you a form on the morning you're least able to fill one in.
Corrections replace, they don't pile up Now
Tell Cadenza it got something wrong and the old fact is superseded, not deleted and not duplicated. The correction is kept with its history, so the record of what you actually said survives.
voice, built for the voice it will hear
Three seconds, not eight hundred milliseconds
This is the most important number in the product and almost nobody would notice it was there.
Every voice product on the market decides you've finished speaking after roughly 800 milliseconds of silence. That's tuned for people who talk in unbroken sentences.
Speech in Parkinson's frequently doesn't work that way. Irregular pauses are one of its defining features. So a standard product interrupts you — constantly, mid-thought — and being interrupted by something that claims to be listening is worse than not being listened to at all.
Cadenza waits 2,800 milliseconds. Nearly three full seconds of silence before it decides you're done.
We measure that ourselves rather than letting the browser decide, because the browser's timing can't be changed and its transcription is worse at exactly the voices we built this for.
When it mishears — and it will Now
Four steps, and it never uses the same one twice.
First: it asks again, differently. Shorter.
Second: it collapses to yes or no, because a binary is recognised far more
reliably than open speech.
Third: it offers the button, with no suggestion that anything failed.
Fourth: it lets it go — "Let's move on. I'm here whenever you want to
talk." And then it actually stops.
You will never be asked to repeat yourself more than twice.
And nowhere in that sequence does Cadenza say "I couldn't hear you," "please speak up," or "try speaking more clearly." A quiet voice is neurological, not a lack of effort. When recognition fails, the failure is Cadenza's, and it says so.
One large button, every screen Now
Same place, every time, doing the obvious thing. No aiming required.
Voice-first, never voice-only. Recognition fails hardest during off periods and late-day fatigue — which is precisely when hands are least reliable too. A product with no floor underneath it fails on the worst day, which is the day it exists for.
Use your voice Soon
Hum a note. Read a paragraph aloud at full volume. Sing one line. Say a tongue twister.
Framed as a warm-up, the way anyone might stretch. Nothing is measured. No volume, no clarity, no score, no before and after. The moment a warm-up is measured it becomes an assessment, and we don't build assessments.
you decide how present it is
Four ways to be met
Fighter
"Check in, keep me going."
Steady
"Just keep me company."
Off-Duty
"Not today. And that's okay."
You can be a Warrior in general and Off-Duty on a Tuesday. Cadenza won't argue, won't guilt you, and won't mention it tomorrow.
When you're Off-Duty it stops asking you to do things entirely and simply asks what you want — a joke, some music, or nothing at all, just company.
Rest is never a failure here. That isn't a feature we added late. It's the reason the rest of it exists.
your story
Eight unhurried conversations, and one thing done backwards Now
Consent and anchor. Roots. Childhood. Love. Work. Values. Messages to people. Celebration.
A warm conversation, not a questionnaire. Every question can be skipped and "we can come back to that" is always available. Every session pauses halfway and picks up whenever — three weeks later if that's when you're ready, with no comment about the gap.
It never tests your memory. This is reminiscence, and reminiscence is not an exam. Nothing is scored, compared, or flagged.
The part we do differently
Most legacy products are built around death. Record your memories, they say, so your family has them afterward. We think that framing is grim and we've inverted it.
In session four, Cadenza helps you write to specific people, by name. Your daughter. The friend from the job in 1974. Those messages are sent now, while the person can write back to you.
You get to hear the reply. That's the entire point.
two people, one companion
You can help without taking over
If this is your day Now
Cadenza is yours first. Your pace, your terms, and it asks nothing you don't want to give.
If you're caring for someone Now
You already know you can't be there every hour. Nobody can — it's arithmetic, not a failing.
Cadenza can be a small steady presence in the hours you can't fill. Here is exactly what that means, including the parts you might not want to hear:
You cannot read their journal. Not a setting you can change. It's built that way and we're not going to change it.
You get no alerts. No reports, no "they didn't respond today," no health notifications. Cadenza is not a monitoring product and won't become one.
They share one item at a time, to one person, and can take it back whenever they like. There's no master switch that hands you their life.
You can set it up and you can pay for it without any of that changing.
If that sounds like less than you wanted — it's the reason they'll actually use it. A companion somebody suspects is reporting back is a companion they'll be careful with, and a companion you're careful with isn't much of a companion.
A companion of your own Later
Right now Cadenza serves the person you care for. What you don't yet have is one of your own — your own nudges, your own journal, your own Off-Duty on the days you've nothing left to give.
That's being built now, with caregivers rather than for them. We'd rather tell you that plainly than sell it to you today and explain afterwards.
daily enjoyment
A small moment of fun Now
Word scramble and a daily question, with hints whenever you want them. Memory match and word search are coming.
Nothing here keeps score, and nothing remembers whether you got it.
That's not modesty. A game that notices you're doing worse than last month is a screening tool wearing a friendly interface, and we won't build one. These exist because a small moment of fun is worth having on its own.
security and privacy
Your data is yours. Not ours, not an advertiser's, not a researcher's.
Easy to write on a website. Here's what it means concretely.
Your voice is never stored
The journal keeps the text and discards the audio. No voiceprint, no voice model, no cloning.
No health data tracked
We record whether a nudge fired and whether it was done. That's the whole of it. Nothing that could ever appear in an insurance file.
Sharing is one item at a time
One journal entry, one gratitude line, one story session. Revocable.
Delete means delete
One tap removes an item from every layer at once — including the facts distilled from it. There is no recycling bin we can restore from.
Isolation at the database
Not in the application. Even if we wrote a bug tomorrow, one account still could not read another's.
Every line screened
Before it reaches you. Thirty-five automated tests, and any text that fails is dropped rather than quietly cleaned up.
what cadenza won't do
We'd rather tell you the truth than sell you a miracle
- Cadenza will not cure anything.
- It will not slow anything down, and it will not fix a hard day.
- It is not medicine, not a doctor, and will never pretend to be.
- It will not track symptoms or grade your progress.
- No medication timing. No dose logic. Not ever — that's between you and your doctor.
- No clinician dashboard. No cognitive scoring. No "fight your disease" framing.
- No settings wizard. Personalisation is earned through use.
- No countdown timers. No streaks to break. No red numbers.
It's a companion. A small steady voice that shows up, does one gentle thing with you, and lets the rest go. That's all it is. On the right day we think that's quite a lot — but we'll let you be the judge of that, not us.
accessibility
Every rule here came from a specific bad day
Not from a compliance checklist. One of the four people building Cadenza has Parkinson's, and each rule below traces to an afternoon that went wrong first.
Touch targets 44 points minimum, primary actions larger
Because a pea-sized button is a locked door, and he has stood at a mirror losing fifteen minutes to a shirt button.
No countdown timers, anywhere, ever
Because a clock on the screen makes a slow hand slower.
No drag, no swipe, no multi-touch
Every one of those assumes a steadiness you may not have today.
Every flow skippable and resumable
Fatigue arrives without warning and doesn't negotiate.
Continuous save
Nobody should lose fifteen minutes of work to a moment they couldn't control.
And the rest of it
Voice first, typing second. One decision per screen. Body text 18px and up, and it scales. WCAG AA contrast throughout. Reduced motion respected. Aggressive input forgiveness.
Adapts to how the day is going, without ever asking you to rate yourself. Nobody wants to score their own decline out of ten before breakfast.
an honest disqualification
Cadenza is the wrong product for some people
If you want a symptom tracker, don't buy this. There are good ones, and this isn't one of them on purpose. We think turning your life into a line graph makes most people feel worse, and we won't build it even though it would sell better.
If you want a dashboard your neurologist can log into, this isn't that either. What you say here belongs to you. Not to us, and not to a clinic.
If you want something that pushes hard on the days you can't get up — that nags, scores, and makes you feel behind — you'll find Cadenza far too gentle, and you should buy something else.
We'd rather have a thousand people who want exactly this than fifty thousand who wanted something else and are disappointed.
what it costs
$29 a month, or $290 for the year
Less than a dollar a day. The year works out to about $24 a month — two months free for deciding once instead of twelve times.
Cadenza
$29 a month
or $290 for the year
- The full daily companion loop
- Compound memory that carries you forward
- Voice journal, voice-first throughout
- Your Story — the eight-session interview
- Four presence levels including Off-Duty
- Daily games, never scored
- Family sharing, one item at a time
- 504 original written pieces
Cadenza Together
$49 a month
or $490 for the year
- Everything in Cadenza
- Caregiver account linking
- Per-artifact sharing, both directions
- Revoke anything, whenever you like
- Coming: a companion for the person beside you
Why we're not free
We considered it. Free is the standard model in wellness software and we understand the appeal. But a free product is paid for by somebody, and in this industry that somebody is an advertiser, a data broker, or a research partner. Which would mean the private things you say to Cadenza have a second audience.
So you pay us, we work for you, and nobody else has a claim on a word of it.
Why $29 and not $9
Because the part that makes Cadenza worth having is the part that costs money to run. It remembers you, it speaks, and it reaches out on its own all day long. A cheaper product would have to be a quieter one.
For comparison — and we mention it only because families are usually doing this arithmetic anyway — the national median for a non-medical home caregiver is around $35 an hour. Cadenza costs roughly what fifty minutes of that costs, once a month.
We are not a substitute for a person and we'd never suggest otherwise. But there are a great many hours in a week that nobody can pay for, and those are the ones we're built for.
Founding members
Join now and $29 stays $29 for as long as you stay. Not for the first year. For good. When Cadenza opens publicly the price goes to $39, and founding members never see it. There's no timer on this page and there won't be one.
If the price is the problem
Write to us and we'll sort something out. There's no form, we won't ask you to prove anything, and we won't ask you to explain yourself. We would rather you had this.
The small print, which is small
Fourteen days free on both plans. Cancel in one tap — no phone call, no retention offer, no three-screen survey asking why. Annual plans are refunded pro rata whenever you ask, for any reason or none. Circumstances change, and sometimes quickly. You should never have to argue with us about that.