Most gig posters are made at eleven at night by somebody who is not a designer, four days before the gig, in whatever they have.

That is not a failure of taste. It is a scheduling problem. The poster is always the last job, it is always urgent, and the tool available is always the wrong one.

So: three text fields, one poster.

What it makes

Name, venue line, details line. Chalk background, one Print Red rule near the top, an enormous condensed headline, and the date in red at the bottom. It redraws as you type and downloads as a PNG at 1080 × 1350 — Instagram portrait, and enough pixels to print at A5 without it going soft.

The headline shrinks to fit. That is most of the actual engineering. A three-letter band name and a fourteen-letter band name both have to fill the width and neither is allowed to fall off the edge, so it steps the type size down until the line fits and stops at a floor rather than shrinking towards nothing.

The house style is the feature

You do not get colour pickers. You do not get fonts. You do not get to move things.

This bothers people for about ninety seconds and then stops bothering them, because the constraint is doing the work. Four decisions made properly once will beat forty decisions made at eleven at night by somebody who wants to be asleep.

It is also, transparently, the same typography this website uses. Barlow Condensed at 900, Print Red on Chalk. Every poster it makes carries a credit line along the bottom edge. That is not modesty; it is the distribution model. The tool advertises itself on pub walls.

What I would use it for

Small gigs. The kind where there is no budget and no designer and the alternative is a photo of the venue with text over it in a font that came with the phone.

Also, genuinely: for anything that needs to be legible from across a room. Set lists. Notices. A poster is a solved layout problem and it turns out a lot of things are secretly posters.

What it does not do

It does not do images. No logo upload, no photograph behind the type. That is a deliberate limit — the moment you can put a picture behind the words, the words stop working, and every bad poster I have ever seen has a picture behind the words.

It does not save anything. There is no gallery of your posters and no account. The canvas is drawn in your browser, the PNG is produced in your browser, and it goes straight to your downloads folder without passing through me.