Nothing changes about how you record

OBS writes one long file, the way it already does. Clipshelf reads the folder — it never asks you to record differently, and it never touches the original.

While you play it notices which game is running and marks the timeline. Games that report their own events get more: kills, goals, rounds, match boundaries, pinned to the second.

One key, no decisions

Press the hotkey and OBS's replay buffer lands on the shelf, tagged with the game — however far back you have it set. Thirty seconds if you want the kill; two minutes if you want the whole round. That's all the keypress does. Where the clip starts is not a question you should be answering mid-fight.

No replay buffer running? It falls back to cutting the moment out of the recording once the session ends, so the key still works either way.

Afterwards you open the shelf, scrub, drag the in and out points, name it, keep it. Or clear the whole night in one pass with the keyboard.

Six weeks later, one phrase

Every session is transcribed on your own machine — GPU if you have one, CPU if you don't. Type something you remember saying and land on the second you said it.

This is the part that turns a folder of 20 GB files into an archive. Not the clipping. The clipping was always easy.

Then it's a clip

Trim on the shelf for something quick, or open the editor for something that needs captions, sound, multiple tracks. It renders locally at full quality — no queue, no upload, no watermark, no ceiling on resolution because someone else is paying for the encode.

Sharing is optional and per-clip. You get a link that unfurls properly in Discord, or you point it at your own storage and skip us completely.

• Game integrations are drop-in folders. Write one for a game nobody covered, or teach the vision scanners your own name.
• No account to use the app, nothing phones home with your library, and the recordings never leave the machine unless you share one.