370 music visualizer templates from 60 engines

Layered atmospheric dust moving across a wide volume.

A great comet whose tail fans out across the spectrum, over a three-layer meteor shower.

Three rings of translucent petals open over the lifecycle and turn half a petal on every kick, leaving an echo.

Individual glyphs travel along editable geometry paths.

A bounded audio-deformed orb surrounds the center safe zone.

A smooth log-frequency line with stable peak behavior.

A refined baseline equalizer with rounded caps.

A lit corridor of glowing rings flown toward a key light. Each ring keeps the spectrum it was born with, bass along its floor and treble overhead; the kick sends a shockwave out of the light and each new section banks the camera.

A clean anti-aliased oscilloscope line.

The time-domain trace bent into a ring around your logo.

A mirrored wedge repeats around the frame, its profile cut from the spectrum.

Stacked hidden-line ridges recede toward the horizon.

One rig position throwing a fan of beams across the stage.

Only the spectrum's local maxima, drawn as a bare field of stars.

Grains walk downhill into the nodes and the figure assembles over time.

Drifting seeds with a soft highlight at each: illuminated glass.

The whole skyline as an equalizer: towers ordered by frequency rise with their bands over a wet, reflecting street.

Every past frame shaded by magnitude: the plot itself, no geometry.

Each kick drops a curling bloom of ink into dark water, and the flow carries it on.

Fly through your song: each analysed section is a stretch of the tunnel wall in its energy's colour, every boundary a lit gate, and what is coming is visible ahead.

Lows raise the centre plates and light their edges.

One word at a time, scaled by onset, with the phrase dim beneath.

Stems spread either side of a centre line by stereo width; mono closes them.

A banded lo-fi sun over layered swell; every beat rolls a spectrum-shaped wave to the shore and the wet sand keeps its high-water line.

A faceted ball turns and throws its spots across the room; each beat flares a volley and fires rays to it through the haze.

Soft blobs of colour pushed by the bass, with colour drops poured from a glowing core on every beat and a frosted equalizer that keeps its high-water line.

A neon ring rising over a synthwave grid pulls the starfield inward, the spectrum standing on its rim with held peak caps.

The cover as a round core ringed by a circular spectrum, mirrored spectra running out to both edges, and the title, progress bar and timer beneath.

Each beat, a pencil draws the waveform out from a graphite knot to both edges of grainy paper.

A row of carved jack-o'-lanterns on a moonlit hill, each glowing with its own slice of the mix; the kick flares the big lantern's face and every new section draws the moon out of the clouds.

Clay lamps line a courtyard's steps: each flame is one band of the mix, every beat lights the next lamp along the row, and each new section lights another step.

A hanukkiah on a winter windowsill: eight candles in a straight row and the raised shamash, each flame dancing to its own part of the mix while snow falls past the glass.

A snow-dusted pine wound with string lights: each bulb is a band from the bass at the base to the treble at the tip, every beat steps the chase one bulb, the bass warms the baubles and a new section lights the star.

The kinara on the mkeka with the harvest and the unity cup: each section of the song lights the next candle in order, and every flame dances to its own part of the spectrum.

The countdown to the end of your song written in gold by a pen of light over a night skyline whose windows light with the music: the whole clock rewritten every eight bars and each digit as it changes, fireworks bursting and falling behind; the last ten seconds are written one by one and midnight writes the greeting.

A festival street at night under strings of red lanterns: the near string is the spectrum, the bass swings it, the big centre lantern flares on the beat and each new section lights another string down the street.

Two pens of light race in along a heartbeat line from the edges and draw a heart where they meet, its outline shaped by your waveform; every kick makes it beat, lub-dub, a light runs round it once a bar, and each section adds a ring inside. It is drawn again each loop.

A thin crescent over moonlit dunes and three lit lanterns; every star answers its own band, each beat twinkles one star beside the moon, and the crescent waxes as the song plays.

A row of painted eggs nestled in new grass at sunrise: each egg rises with its own band, the tulips behind them open with the bass, and the kick hops one egg at a time.

The illusion itself, played the way that shows it best and set on its own lit stage: wheels that seem to turn while they stand still under a studio key light, a phantom that runs round a ring on an even grey, stairs that never end in a moonlit courtyard, an endless spiral. The stage's lights pulse with the kick and swell on a drop, every move lands on a beat, and the truth stays hidden.

A three-act film of your pictures: a title card, a chapter card as each section begins, slow push-ins in the verses, wider and quicker in the chorus, a cut on every bar in the drop, and the last picture held under your end card.

The whole release: misty photos in the verses, a halftone burst on the build, a stream of data on the drop and flowing contours in the breakdown, with the ring tilting away in the calm and facing you on the drop.

A tall wooden clock: the second hand ticks on every beat, the pendulum swings to the tempo behind the glass and the weights rise with the bass.

The country's flag hoisted up its pole at the start of the song, then flying for real: a wave runs across the cloth with its folds lit and shaded, the fly flutters, every beat sends a ripple from the pole to the fly, the cord swings and a sweep of light crosses on the drops.

Drops on a pane of glass: a new drop lands on every beat, holds, then runs down leaving a wet trail; each bead catches its own band's light and glints with the high notes.

The animal in its own habitat: it breathes, looks about and flicks its ears on the beat, and on every phrase of the song it makes its call. Clouds drift, light sweeps the far mountains, the trees sway in one wind and snow, pollen or bubbles drift past.

Two chefs cooking at night under warm pendant lamps: a wok that flares on the beat and throws sparks, steam that puffs with the bass, seasoning falling on a steak, all in one seamless loop.

A full game seen from the broadcast seats: possession changes every phrase, the puck moves from stick to stick on the beat, and on the last bar of each phrase someone shoots. When it goes in the goal light burns, the crowd jumps and the score ticks up.

The creature in its own realm: it breathes, looks about and stirs its wings on the beat, and on every phrase of the song it unleashes its power, fire, frost, lightning or foxfire. Clouds drift, light sweeps the far peaks and embers, mist or snow drift past.

Fly down a curving tunnel of neon light strips: a chase runs round every frame, each strip lit by its own band, a pulse of light races down the walls on each kick and an energy portal at the far end throws lightning on the snare. Every few bars the deck launches a new shape: hexagon, square, triangle, octagon or star.

The sign in starlight: a night sky and the Milky Way, a ring of stars a light runs round once a bar, and inside it a pen of light joining a star sign's own stars line by line, then drawing its figure round them as on an old star map (a Chinese sign's animal drawn star by star). The figure strides and swishes its tail, the stars twinkle with the high notes and a shooting star crosses once a loop.

The constellation filling a clear night sky over the hills: its lines draw themselves one on every beat, each star ringing as its line lands and its name written in, a spark runs the finished figure every two bars, its real stars twinkle with the part of the song their colour answers and a shooting star crosses on the big moments. Round it the sky lives: thousands of fainter stars drift in depth, variable stars pulse with the bars, double stars orbit, a satellite glides over, and on the big moments a meteor shower streams out of the figure's own radiant and a nova flares.

The game's table in a lit room: the wheel at its head and the numbers on the felt, brass and polished wood, chips in stacks, lamps overhead pulsing with the kick and the haze in their light. The ball lands on the drop and the board lights the number.

One old tree on a moonlit hill, the sky glowing behind its crown so every gap between the boughs reads as light. Two of those gaps are faces in profile turned to each other, a lobe of the crown looks out to the left and a face sleeps in the bark. The crown sways with the bass and rocks on the groove, light runs up the trunk and out to the twigs every bar, fireflies drift round the roots and the mist lies in the valleys; through a build the faces come forward, and on the drop the leaves part round them and a light settles at each eye.

The signal box's illuminated panel of a double-track loop with two stations, platform loops and sidings, lit in a dim box with lamp glow and haze. Every track circuit lights in its train's colour while the train stands on it, the route ahead lights up to the first red signal, signals step from red to yellow to green behind each train and clear on the beat, the points throw on the bar and each train's four-character code steps from berth to berth. The build brings more trains out and on the drop every route lights at once.

The big top at night from outside: striped canvas sagging between its poles, strings of bulbs chasing on every beat, flags in the wind, searchlights sweeping with the bars, and the entrance curtains opening on the drop onto the show's light.

The lift hill and the first drop from the side at dusk: the chain hauls the train up through the build while the lift's lights fill beside it, the crest tips over on the drop and the train plunges toward the loop, riders' hands in the air.

A wall of masks in a Venetian shop, the chosen one in the middle: on every beat a ripple runs out from it and each face lifts its brows and smiles in turn, the gold catching the light as it passes.

The Earth from space with its shells of satellites: a space station and a weather satellite circling once a bar, navigation satellites at half a day, a long ellipse and the geostationary ring hanging over one place as the Earth turns under it. The highs light the trails and the drop links every satellite to its neighbours.

Along the hall a step a beat by your candle: portraits whose eyes follow you, sconces guttering as the song builds, doors that slam on the downbeats, and on the drop a clown springs out of a doorway.