The dance floor runs itself.
Kuthu plays the good part of every song — the drop, the chorus, the bit people actually get up for — from where it starts to where it ends, however long that is. Your guests ask for the next song by scanning a code on the TV. No DJ. No laptop babysitter. No app for anyone to install.
Runs on your own WiFi. Nothing about your party leaves your house.
Somebody always ends up on aux duty.
You know how it goes. One person spends the whole night hunched over a laptop, queueing songs and skipping the four-minute intro nobody wants. Everyone else shouts requests over the music. The floor empties during every slow bit.
It plays the part that matters
Every film song has minutes you sit through and a stretch everybody knows. Kuthu works out where that stretch starts and ends — partly from the timestamps people leave in the comments, which are a crowd pointing at the good bit — and plays all of it, in one piece, then moves on. Some songs give you thirty seconds. Some give you two minutes.
Your guests are the DJ
A QR code sits on the screen. Anyone on your WiFi scans it, sees what is playing, searches your collection, requests a song and votes on what other people asked for. Their name comes up on the TV when their pick lands.
It can tell whether anyone is dancing
Guests who want to help put their phone in their pocket, and Kuthu reads how fast those phones are moving and whether they are moving together. A song the room has locked into runs on instead of being cut by a timer. Nothing else does this. How it works.
Three steps, then leave it alone.
Setup takes about ten minutes the first time and about thirty seconds every party after that.
-
Build a collection
Paste in YouTube links you love, or a whole playlist. Then press Find more songs and Kuthu goes back to the labels and music directors your collection already came from and brings back more of them. Every song is played through before it is kept, so a dead link, a pulled video or one blocked in your country never reaches the floor.
-
Drag it to the TV
Open the player window, drag it onto your TV or projector, press Start, then F for fullscreen. The QR code for guests appears on the screen.
-
Go and dance
Songs run back to back with no gap. Requests come in from phones and slot into the queue. If something is not landing, one key skips it — and Kuthu remembers never to play it again.
Where it runs.
Kuthu wants to be on the machine nearest the TV. Today that is a Windows laptop. Next it is your Mac — and after that, the streaming stick already plugged into the television, so no computer is involved at all.
Windows 10 & 11
The full app, and the one everything on this site describes. Built and working; not handed out yet.
First to shipmacOS
Apple silicon and Intel. The same app, signed and notarised so it opens without a scary warning.
In developmentAndroid TV · Google TV · Fire TV
Kuthu living on the television itself, with your phone as the console and everyone else's phone as the request queue. No laptop in the room.
In developmentBuy Kuthu once and every platform it reaches is included — you are buying the app, not a copy of it for one kind of machine.
The floor tells it what to do.
Every other player in the world is guessing. Kuthu can actually tell whether the song that is on is working, because the room is full of accelerometers and some of them belong to people who want to help.
What happens
After a guest requests a song, their phone offers to help read the floor. If they say yes, they put it in their pocket and the page watches how fast it is moving. Every four seconds the phone works out one number — the rate it is bouncing at — and sends that, and nothing else. Kuthu looks at all of them together: not how much movement there is, but how much of it is the same movement. Twenty phones moving at the same rate is a floor. Twenty phones moving at twenty different rates is a room of people walking about.
What it does with that
- A song the room has locked into is allowed to run on rather than being cut at the end of its segment. A DJ does not cut a floor that is going.
- A song the floor had and then let go of is cut early, instead of playing out to an emptying room.
- After a couple of songs where nothing happens, Kuthu pulls up something from later in the running order that has worked at a party before.
- Over time, each song in your collection carries a quiet record of what it did to a floor — and the next time you ask for more songs, the labels whose songs got people up are the ones it looks through first.
What is not collected
No audio, ever — no microphone is touched. The raw motion readings never leave the phone; what leaves is one number every four seconds. Nothing is tied to a guest's name or their requests, nothing is written to disk except a per-song summary like "this one got people moving", and the whole thing is off unless a guest opts in. The host can switch it off for everybody from their own phone. It needs three phones before it has an opinion at all — two people are not a dance floor.
It gets better every party.
The first night, Kuthu guesses where the good part starts — and it is right most of the time. When it is not, you fix it from the dance floor.
One key pins a song forever
Nudge the start point with the arrow keys until the section is right,
press S, and that song opens at exactly that moment at every
future party. After two or three nights your collection is hand-tuned and
you stop touching it.
Or let the crowd decide
Under a film song the comments are full of people shouting one moment — "2:14", "vera level 1:32". Kuthu reads those, and a run of them is a crowd pointing at a whole stretch rather than a single second: it plays first mention to last, plus the run-up. The tuner will also listen to a song and propose where the singing starts, if you would rather.
A code for the WiFi, too
Optional: put your network in and the TV shows a second code that puts a phone on your WiFi, so nobody has to read a password out over the music. Off until you fill it in.
Every song, not just the easy ones
Film labels block a great many of their videos from playing inside other people's players. Kuthu sidesteps the whole problem by playing every song on YouTube's own page, in a window the app owns and takes away on cue.
It works around the ads, honestly
An ad used to mean a song cut off before its chorus. Kuthu holds the segment clock still while one runs, so you still get the section you asked for. It does not skip or block anything — here is why.
About the ads.
Kuthu plays videos from YouTube exactly as YouTube serves them, ads included. That is on purpose, and it is worth explaining rather than burying.
The ad is how the music got there
A film song on YouTube is paid for by the ads against it — the composer, the label, the singers and the studio are all on the other end of that. A party that plays fifty songs is fifty songs' worth of royalties flowing to the people who made them. Kuthu does not strip that out, block it, or hide it, and it never will. An app that did would be taking money out of the pockets of the exact artists it exists to celebrate.
What Kuthu does instead
It does the one honest thing available from outside the video: it notices that an ad is running and holds the segment clock still until it finishes. Without that, a two-minute chorus would lose thirty seconds to an ad that ate them. Nothing is skipped and nothing is suppressed — the ad plays in full, and then your song gets its full section.
Kuthu is an independent product. It is not affiliated with, endorsed by, or sponsored by YouTube or Google, and we earn nothing if you subscribe to Premium. We recommend it because it makes Kuthu better and because it pays the people who made the music. YouTube is a trademark of Google LLC.
Your party is nobody's data.
There is no Kuthu account, no cloud, and no server of ours in the middle. The app runs on your laptop and talks to the phones on your own WiFi. Guests never sign in — they scan a code and type a name.
Not ready yet. Nearly.
Windows first, Mac and TV after. There is no build to hand out today — leave an email and you will hear on the day there is.