ardcore-o-Matic

How to Play

How to Play

  1. Fill the grid

    Tap a square to set a riff upon it, and tap again for the next riff, round until it lieth empty once more. Each row is one musician, and each square two bars of music.

  2. Choose thy band

    Tap a musician on the stage, or the name beside its row, to hand it another instrument. Tap on past the last, and it dozeth, silent, until thou wakest it.

  3. Strike up!

    Press Strike up! and the band playeth thy song round and round. Change any square as they play: thou shalt hear it on the next pass.

Further tricks

  • To clear a square, long-press it, right-click it, or press Delete.
  • Tap the ruler above the grid to play from that slot.
  • Inspire me rolleth the die and writeth thee a whole new song.
  • Clear sweepeth every square bare; thy band stayeth as it was.
  • Tune, among the buttons beneath the grid, setteth thy song's name, its tempo, its style (Tavern or Jig) and its mood (Merry or Mournful).
  • Share giveth thee a link to thy song, to send to whomever thou wilt.
  • With a keyboard, the arrow keys move about the grid; Enter or Space changeth a square, Shift+Enter goeth back a riff, and Delete cleareth it. Home, or Left from the first square, reacheth the name beside the row.

Thy song is kept on this device, and awaiteth thee when thou returnest.

Instruments

Sixteen instruments, four for each musician. Tap a musician on the stage to hand it the next one, or press Hear it to hear one alone.

The band is playing. Cease the music, and Hear it shall sound.

Percussion

Played by the hare, who keepeth the beat.

  • Tabor

    A little drum slung from the shoulder and beaten with one stick whilst the other paw steadieth it. Its tap and rattle have kept many a village dance upon its feet.

  • Nakers

    A pair of little kettledrums, brought home from the Crusades and hung at the belt. One boometh low, the other barketh high, and betwixt them the knights do march.

  • Tambourine

    A hoop of wood hung with jingling discs. Strike it with thy palm or shake it like a merchant's purse, and every jester in the hall shall caper.

  • Bells

    Handbells great and small, kin to those that ring from the abbey tower and the market cross. They call the faithful to prayer and the hungry to supper.

Drone

Played by the snail, who holdeth the low notes beneath.

  • Hurdy-Gurdy

    A fiddle with a crank, that droneth like a contented bee. A rosined wheel boweth its strings, whilst the player's keys pick out the tune.

  • Organ

    Pipes of metal and wood, breathed upon by bellows and a very tired monk. The little portative organ goeth even in procession, and is no less holy for its size.

  • Monk Chant

    Brothers of the abbey, singing plainchant as one voice and holding each note long. Their hum filleth the cloister, and even the abbot's cat sitteth very still.

  • Viol

    A stately bowed viol with a voice like warm oak. It draweth long, smooth notes beneath the dance, and never once doth it buzz.

Strum

Played by the monkey, who plucketh the chords.

  • Lute

    A pear-bellied darling of the court, plucked upon courses of paired strings. Troubadours swear it hath wooed more hearts than a hundred sonnets.

  • Harp

    A frame of wood and a rain of strings, beloved of kings and wandering poets alike. Pluck it softly and even the dragon in the cellar shall hush.

  • Dulcimer

    A box of strings struck with little hammers, shimmering like rain upon a tavern roof. Minstrels carried it from lands afar, and each note ringeth on long after the blow.

  • Lyre

    A small lyre of gut strings, plucked one by one as the bards of old did, or swept all at once whilst the other hand stilleth the strings not wanted. Sweet of voice, it suiteth a fireside tale.

Melody

Played by the fox, who carrieth the tune.

  • Recorder

    A humble pipe of wood, sweet and clear as a robin at dawn. Blow gently, good traveller, lest thou raise a squeal and frighten the hounds.

  • Crumhorn

    A curved horn with its reed hid in a cap, buzzing like a hornet in a tankard. Odd of shape and odder of voice, yet a feast is dull without it.

  • Fiddle

    Drawn with a bow of horsehair, the fiddle singeth, weepeth and capereth as the player wisheth. No village wedding was ever danced without one.

  • Trumpet

    A long, straight trumpet of brass, blown from the castle wall to announce kings, feasts and the odd siege. Subtle it is not; ignored it shall never be.

About

Bardcore-o-Matic is a little music toy. Set riffs upon the grid, hand thy band of beasts their instruments, and a tavern tune in the old style shall play for thee. It is free, and asketh no account of thee.

Whence it came

It taketh its inspiration from Punk-o-Matic, the beloved punk song maker on Newgrounds, here retuned for lute and crumhorn.

Its makings

Privacy

In short: thy songs stay on thy device unless thou sharest them. This site setteth no cookies of its own, though the counting service may, as told below.

What is kept on thy device

  • Thy current song, in thy browser's local storage under the key bardomatic:song, so it awaiteth thee when thou returnest.
  • A small mark, bardomatic:struck, in session storage, so the Strike up! button ceaseth its beckoning once pressed. It is forgotten when thou shuttest the tab.

Neither is ever sent anywhere. To forget them, clear this site's data in thy browser.

Shared songs

A shared link carrieth the song itself, its name too, written into the address. This site keepeth no copy.

Counting visitors

This site useth Google Analytics to count visits and a few doings in the game: when the band striketh up, when a song is shared or inspired, when a musician changeth instrument, and when the ruler is tapped. Its script on this page gathereth these, with cookies where thy consent alloweth (see below), and sendeth them to Google, which processeth them. The counting service is given the page's address without the song in it, so thy song and its name are not sent to it.

To refuse its cookies, block this site's cookies in thy browser; to stop it counting thee at all, install the Analytics opt-out browser add-on.

Read how Google useth information from sites or apps that use its services.

Thy consent

Before its script loadeth, this site telleth the counting service what thou permittest, by where thou art:

  • In the European Economic Area, the United Kingdom and Switzerland, nothing: no cookies for counting. No consent message is shown, so it stayeth so: the counting service setteth no cookies there, and may send only cookieless pings.
  • Everywhere else, consent is given unless thou refusest it, so the counting service may set cookies. To refuse the counting service's cookies, block this site's cookies in thy browser, or use the add-on above.

Everything else

The fonts, art and sounds all come from this site itself; no other company is asked for them. As with any website, the host that serveth this site handleth thy requests in order to deliver it.