Every song you love has a whole world of people behind it. Most of them you'll never know their name.

Open Spotify. Play your favourite song. Now try to find out who produced it. Who played bass. Who co-wrote the hook. You might find a songwriter credit buried three taps deep — if you know where to look. Most people don't, and most platforms don't make it easy.

This isn't a minor inconvenience. It's a systemic problem. Producers, session musicians, mixing engineers, and co-writers are the invisible workforce behind every song you love. They have no discovery surface. No profile page a fan can stumble onto. No way for a casual listener to go from "I love this beat" to "who made this beat?"

This is the problem I was brought in to solve. As the designer on this engagement, I was responsible for turning dense, inaccessible music industry metadata into experiences that real people would actually want to explore — across seven different surfaces, each with its own constraints, conventions, and user expectations. The work below covers the full concept: research, flows, and high-fidelity screens I designed and presented to the product team. Not every piece of it made it into the app you can download today, but the thinking and the screens are real design work, done for a real product.

Deepr needed a way to surface music credits while users watch content — without ever leaving the streaming platform. I chose Netflix as the first integration target because of its music-heavy catalogue. The constraint I set for myself was extreme: you cannot interrupt the viewing experience. The widget has to exist within Netflix's interface without looking like it doesn't belong, and it has to add value without demanding attention.

I designed a quiet pill button in the corner of the Netflix player. When tapped, a panel slides in from the right — listing every song in the content, with expandable credits, a QR code to save songs to your phone, and a deliberate sponsored slot (Deepr's B2B revenue model). The panel never covers the video. The user never leaves Netflix.

YouTube TV lives on a television, controlled by a remote with a D-pad and a handful of buttons. Every assumption I'd made designing for Netflix had to be rebuilt for a platform where the user can point and click, but can't type, can't pinch-to-zoom, and is sitting eight feet from the screen instead of holding it in their hand.

The entry point sits inside YouTube TV's own playback bar, next to Networks, Episodes, and More to Watch — a "Episode 3 Playlist" control with an eye icon. Selecting it doesn't cover the video; it pillarboxes it down to make room for the panel sliding in from the right, exactly like a native TV app would behave.

Turning credits into profiles solves discovery — now you know who made the song. But Deepr's insider users don't just want to be found, they want to be reachable. So I designed Connects: a feature that lets anyone browse every credit on a song and message the people behind it directly, without leaving the app.

While a song plays, the mini-player collapses into the background and a "Select Credits to Browse" grid appears underneath it — every contributor on that track as a tappable avatar card: the artist, the album, the release year, every writer, producer, mixer, and mastering engineer. Multiple credits can be selected at once, turning a single song into a jumping-off point for exploring an entire team of people.

This is the design principle I'm most proud of from Deepr. When we integrated into four streaming platforms, the instinct was to create one visual language and apply it everywhere. Consistent brand identity. Same colours, same components, same layout. That's what most companies do.

I did the opposite. Deepr takes on each platform's visual language — its colours, its spacing, its conventions — and adapts. On YouTube Music, Deepr is dark red. On YouTube, it lives inside the existing Details tab. On APEX, it's the richest experience with credits, concerts, merch, and reviews. On Amazon Music, it's the most restrained — a subtle expandable section that matches Amazon's conservative UI.

The result: Deepr never feels like a third-party plugin. It feels like a feature the platform always should have had.