Which is probably true, and I probably should switch. Except I kinda like iTunes. It's easy to use, doesn't require any tweaking to get it to do what I want, and it's free. I killed the resident programs to reduce the resource hoggishness and usually it works very well for me.

Except when it doesn't, and then my world comes crashing down. Like a few weeks ago, when I updated to a new version, started it up, and clicked right on past the message that said something like "Library not found, rebuild from scratch and guesswork? Y/N" to watch it painstakingly count all my songs all over again. Honestly I didn't pay attention; I was heading off to bed and I'm used to seeing some sort of nonsense every time I update the thing as it re-evaluates my stuff in light of whatever new doodad the update added.

I did notice the next morning, when I synced my iPod Touch and it promptly and helpfully deleted all my apps. That wailing sound you may have heard, just over the horizon? That was me, thumbing my iTouch to life in the car on the way to work to discover my life had been reduced down to (horrors!) the default apps that ship with the thing. I had to wait 10 long hours to get back home and try to rebuild, and that did terrible things to my psyche I cannot describe. I'm still working through the trust issues.

As it turned out, all I had to do to get them back was to tell iTunes where my app folder was so it could load them back in, but I lost the information I had added to the apps — saved games, docs I was writing, my stored passwords, the data saved in various programs — plus the hours it took for me to rebuild my admittedly unnecessarily-specific desktops.I'm paranoid enough to have had most of that in other locations, but still. It shook me.

I don't blame my iTouch. It didn't know any better. No, it was iTunes that betrayed me, iTunes that stole my innocence, iTunes that made me distrustful forever more. Also, I lost all my supplied album covers in my music library and I'm not sure I'm up to that kind of OCD-and-caffeine-driven weekend of obsessive cover-filling-in again.

So we have an uneasy relationship now, iTunes and I. We are wary of each other, never fully trusting, never fully comfortable. Short of a new plugin that adds several additional layers of protection ("Are you SURE you want to click here and wipe out your whole library? Again? Seriously?") we will continue in this manner until trust slowly builds again.

I'll still probably keep using it, though.

"I'm deeply psyched to be able to offer 'Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog' on iTunes," Mr. Whedon said. "It's a way to reach way more potential viewers than I can personally call and harass into watching it. The idea that people can carry our little opus around on their iPods and iPhones is thrilling."

Head here to start the proceedin's and get yourself a copy for your very own, or gift it to a friend who's managed to hold out somehow. Just $1.99 for the whole 2-hour episode. Of course, if you wanted to buy the rest I wouldn't stop you…

Saw this over at FireflyFans.net; the unstoppable guerilla marketer and artist 11th Hour is pushing for a mass purchase of Firefly episodes from iTunes, one per day, for the next two weeks. A fortnight of Firefly! Here's the lowdown:

All episodes of Firefly are now available for purchase and download on iTunes for only $1.99 each. This is a fantastic opportunity for supporting our remarkable show. As a way of showing the ongoing vibrant fanbase for Firefly, and to make the most of such great access to our shiny show, fans will be joining in "Firefly Fortnight". As it just so happens, there's 14 days in a fortnight and Firefly has 14 episodes, so it's a great way to spend two weeks boosting the signal! The basic purchase plan is for everyone to start with "Serenity" on day one, and then organize our purchases to follow each episode, each day, in order. Everyone will buy the same Firefly episode each day — in the order intended by Joss — all 14 shows through to the end with "Objects in Space". Two full weeks of Firefly buyin' goodness!
   
This initiative kicks off on Friday, August 11th. The purchase dates are:
   
Aug 11 – Serenity
Aug 12 – The Train Job
Aug 13 – Bushwhacked
Aug 14 – Shindig
Aug 15 – Safe
Aug 16 – Our Mrs. Reynolds
Aug 17 – Jaynestown
Aug 18 – Out of Gas
Aug 19 – Ariel
Aug 20 – War Stories
Aug 21 – Trash
Aug 22 – The Message
Aug 23 – Heart of Gold
Aug 24 – Objects in Space

Now there's bound to be some spill over with the episodes, especially if you want to recruit someone halfway into the fortnight, well, they'll need to see Serenity first… so just buy Serenity, and all the episodes needed to catch up at that point! But the fun will be giving each episode its own special day. Makes for interesting discussions on the forum too. It's always great to rediscover a Firefly episode, and see something you missed the first 40 or 50 times you watched it… heh…
   
Spread the word — let's get some buzz goin' and have a great time boosting Firefly to the top of the download chart. Do you have a family member, friend or co-worker who would enjoy being introduced to Firefly on their iPod, or on their computers? Been tryin' to help folks discover how singularly incredible Firefly is, but you're meeting resistance? Getting excuses like: DVD sets too pricey; they don't have the time to go buy the DVD set; spaceships and cowboys sounds so weird; or they have a problem with their brains bein' missin'? Well, cut through all that resistance and just send them Firefly episodes as gifts! Yeah, that's right, it's the high tech way to badger folks into doing something they'll thank you for over and over again later on anyway….

Episodes can be purchased here:
   
http://www.apple.com/itunes/

TV Shows > FOX > FOX Television Classics

Gifts ~ Here's the info page on how to purchase pre-paid iTunes Gift Cards, or you can buy and SEND Firefly episodes via email, or print a certificate with a special code… Apple's got it covered several ways…

http://www.apple.com/itunes/give/
   
If you don't have iTunes, it's free for Mac and Windows (double check the specified system requirements though):

http://www.apple.com/itunes/download/   

Let's show that the audience for the 'Verse is still goin' strong… and growing! Buy 'em for yourself, buy 'em for other folks too. This is an outstanding opportunity to spread the word of Firefly at only $1.99 per episode. People are now only a few keystrokes away from the BEST. SHOW. EVER. Let's make it count.

11th Hour

When it comes to saving time for me personally, I mean. The rest is good, too.

Playlists allow me to arrange my music as I see fit to suit my needs, and not in the prepackaged "order" that some fancy pants "artist" thought they should be in. And it's incredibly easy! Not like it used to be (cue old timey music as the column fades to sepia).

Back in the day playlists were called "mix tapes." You pulled out all your records and tapes in huge wobbly stacks and you popped in a blank cassette and you spent a good three or four or seventeen hours dropping needle arms and hitting play and record buttons to painstakingly create the Perfect Music Compilation. Also a crippling lower back ache that would be with you always.

That was back when music was a physical thing and men trembled in fear at the bright fire from the rain clouds. Now that music is digital the backbreaking time and effort has been reduced to a few mouse clicks. You can go online and swap your playlists with other people. The iTunes music store even features a celebrity playlist section that proves famous people listen to the same twenty songs as everybody else, except for those artists who apparently listen only to music by themselves or their contractual connections (coughBeyoncecough).

Like the mix tapes, playlists are mood setters, snapshots of your tastes, and great nonverbal method of communication. Barry White can manage your seductions, with Travis Tritt ready to deliver your break up afterward. You can produce the ultimate Rolling Stones album by taking their life's work and removing all those clunkers. You can make a soundtrack that perfectly describes your personal philosophy, at least until you get bored with it and make another one.

But there's a deeper, more satisfying reason for making playlists: to show other people how cool we are. Bow before my superior compilatory might! Relish the soul-stirring production that I, with no discernable musical talent whatsoever, have created! See how much better my taste is than yours!

It isn't, of course. If people heard what I really sing along with at stoplights they would laugh at me and do that pointing thing. Instead, like everyone else, I list songs I want people to think I listen to by constructing my playlist carefully until it sounds so unutterably cool that even I would sleep with me if I heard it.

There are as many types of mixes as there are people with too much time on their hands. I've made dance mixes, romance mixes, I-can't-believe-I-said-that-in-front-of-her-mother mixes, drive-till-they-make-you-pull-over mixes, and many more (check www.artofthemix.com). But they all have some basic rules.

As Nick Hornby (and John Cusack) advised, start strong. I favor the Emergency Broadcast Warning klaxon. It gets people's attention and sets their toes to tapping.

Next, set the tone. Do you want your listeners dancing, laughing, singing along, marveling at your musical acumen, or screaming and clawing at the speakers? Choose wisely.

Vary your selections to control the mood, and stick in some placeholder songs (Elton John, Barenaked Ladies, instrumentals) every now and then to cleanse the palate and allow romancers to freshen up, partiers to get fresh drinks, and dancers to dump the partner they got stuck with during the last song.

No matter what the era of the mix, include one Who or Aerosmith song so the 40-somethings won't feel totally out of place, and one Kanye West or Gorillaz song so the teenagers don't fall asleep.

Include a song by a local artist to prove your street cred. Google for them, it's faster than actually going to clubs yourself and they're always so loud.

You must — and this is important — include at least one song that no one in the room has ever heard of. Otherwise there's just no point. Ideally it should be something only ever mentioned once in an obscure British music magazine.

Close with a song guaranteed to get into everyone's brain and stay there for a day or two at least, to ensure they'll be thinking about you. This should reflect the genre of your mix but "Brickhouse" seems to inflict everybody more or less equally.

Now that the grunt work of making a mix tape has been streamlined, it could be said that some of the magic has gone out of it. No longer do you have to dig and play and record and spend hours getting it right. You're no longer a producer. You're a DJ. But that's OK. DJs get hit on a lot more.

And now I can spend all my time more productively: making the perfect CD cover.

According to a report from the International Federation of Phonographic Industries — those whacky kids — the number of legal music downloads during the first half of 2005 was three times higher than during the same period last year, while the dastardly efforts of illegal file swapping pirates only increased a very little teeny bit. Industry representatives are seizing this as proof that their heavy-handed legal attacks and constant anti-piracy tirades are having some effect besides annoying the bejesus out of their customers.

"We are now seeing real evidence that people are increasingly put off by illegal file-sharing and turning to legal ways of enjoying music online," said John Kennedy, IFPI chairman and lead vocalist. "Whether it's the fear of getting caught breaking the law, or the realization that many networks could damage your home PC, attitudes are changing, and that is good news for the whole music industry."

I almost hate to ruin Mr. Kennedy's dream world. I'm sure it's a happy place, where kittens and butterflies dance along babbling brooks to the bought-and-paid-for rendition of "You Are My Sunshine." And it's true that legal downloads are up a gargantuan 316 percent, 180 million songs sold compared to last year's 57 million. In comparison there was only a measly 3 percent increase in online thievery; only 900 million this year according to the same report. Maybe everyone was busy downloading "Revenge of the Sith."

And I'm sure the threat of litigation helped, especially when it was made clear that the recording industry was ready and willing to prosecute, sue, and eat anyone found guilty of file-sharing no matter their age, situation, or actual innocence.

But, Mr. Kennedy, people are not paying for their music now because they've suddenly seen the light and realized that Stealing is Wrong. Everyone knew that already, we just didn't care.

It didn't help to yell at us, honest. It didn't help to threaten us. No, the real reason more people are paying for music now is because People Are Lazy. And, for the first time, it's more convenient to buy the stuff than it is steal it.

That's all we needed. That's all we asked for, back when the recording industry was convinced that distributing music digitally would curdle milk in the cow, make babies blind, and ruin society as we know it. People weren't stealing music so they could stick it to the Man. Well, not completely. They were stealing music because you weren't offering it to them and they wanted their tunes to keep up with their lifestyles.

You fought it, kicking and suing, helpless against the rampaging hordes of grinning digital pirates, until finally, out of desperation, you did the last thing you could: you started selling music online, grudgingly, at an almost reasonable price. Amazingly it worked. No threats were necessary, although a price drop and some coupons would be nice.

There are also 200 more online music shops open this year (including one from Internet gorilla Yahoo.com). Broadband is spreading like wildfire. Napster partnered with college universities. Pepsi spent all spring giving away free iTunes songs. Even homeless people have iPods now. And Britney was too busy with her transformation into Courtney Love to release anything new. All of these things contributed to your miraculous increase this year — far more, I suspect, than our apparent reawakening.

We have not seen the light, recording industry people. You have. We've wanted to give you our money for ten years! Had you bought Napster way back when, by now you'd be richer than… well, you are.

So let's keep going, shall we?

Figure out ways that I can buy music through my cellphone or my PDA or from my car stereo. Let me download from a kiosk in a club or during concerts so I can grab that cool song they're playing right now. Heck, let me download music in the grocery store during long lines when I'm going crazy because I can't identify which song is being butchered by Muzak. Let me bring my MP3 player into Sam Goody and download songs on the spot. Who knows, I might even buy a CD there to save myself the trouble of making a backup copy.

Just don't get cocky. Keep it easy and convenient, or the seas will rise again.

Arr.

Not that I've avoided MP3s, WMAs, WAVs, OGGs, AIFFs, MIDIs, and whatever iTunes uses. I've had tons of the things since they first became available, many of them even legally. But they've never been real to me.

See, I grew up with record albums. Big dinner-plate-sized discs of black vinyl. They were prone to scratches and warping and breakage and came in cheesy cardboard sleeves the size of museum paintings that attracted mold, and I loved them more than my dog or any given parent. But music enjoyment in those days was hard work. Not just because of the difficulties in avoiding deadly fingerprints or stacking coins on the needle arm to get past the scratches, something that required the intense concentration of a bomb squad agent with hiccups. No, what I spent my time on was organization.

There was something extremely satisfying about hauling six hundred records into three hundred constantly changing stacks and shoving them back onto the sagging shelves in a new and clearly more logical order that would last until the next weekend when I'd rearrange them all over again by year, or personal significance, or album color. Even now the smell of old record albums triggers fond memories and crippling muscle spasms.

Cassettes were never real music; they were what you used to make copies of real music. They never stacked well anyway, they just piled up in your car floorboards. And CDs, they were just toys. Little quarter scale versions of real music. Too easy to carry, too easy to copy, too easy to loan and lose and forget about. And when songs got ripped to computer and become files — in the background, while you were doing something more important — they became even more inconsequential. People dumped songs onto their MP3 players by the gig without even breaking a sweat, without earning them.

I let my MP3s pile up into one massive directory, like an electronic bargain bin.

Then, a few weeks ago, I was idly toying with the options in my music program that I rarely bother with – which would be anything besides "Play" – and noticed something called Super Tagging. I clicked on it.

Suddenly the song I had selected was automatically changed from the mysteriously labeled "havefaith.mp3" to "John Hiatt – Bring The Family – Have A Little Faith In Me.mp3." The album cover was displayed. The year of publication. The track number. It had a genre.

I realize for many of you who are more experienced with digital music this is like watching someone playfully press down on the gas pedal after previously only ever using their car as a cigarette lighter, but for me it was a revelation that reawakened the dangerously anal side of me with a vengeance. There was organization to be done.

I spent the next week hunched over my keyboard. Should Dream Theater's version of Pink Floyd's "Hey You" be filed under Dream Theater, Pink Floyd, or Covers? Is Matchbox Twenty "Pop Rock," "Alternative Rock," or "Post Grunge?" Does "(Don't Fear) the Reaper" belong to Blue Oyster Cult or the "Scream" soundtrack? I anguished for hours trying to decide if I should put Billy Joel's "She's Always a Woman" under "Greatest Hits Vol. I & II" (where I got it), "The Stranger" (where it debuted), or off my computer entirely (before anyone I knew caught me singing along).

I rushed off to rip CDs I'd never bothered with before just to build the perfect collection and reorganize them over and over. Napster and iTunes and allofmp3.com abruptly received sharp spikes in their profit margins as I bought songs by the fistful to fill gaps I hadn't realized I had. Songs I hadn't heard in decades, songs I hadn't even particularly liked the first time, were suddenly vitally important to have.

I catalogued them all.

Finally, at 3:45 Sunday morning, I sat back amongst my empty Coke cans and Dorito bags, and my back creaked in a way I hadn't felt in many years. And it was good. I had a collection again.

Someday I might even listen to some of this stuff.