Serenity Caldwell, writing at iMore, on how an iTunes bug may be to blame for a small set of users finding their iTunes music deleted:
Apple Music is not automatically deleting tracks out of your Mac’s library, nor is it trying to force you to stay subscribed to the service. In this instance, it appears that Apple Music is an unfortunate scapegoat: The real problem may be a bug with the subscription service’s container application, iTunes.
I don’t want to incite mass panic, here: This bug appears to have affected a very small number of users, and if you didn’t have local files disappear after updating to iTunes 12.3.3, your library is likely just fine. You can check to see if your library is locally-stored by turning on the iCloud Status and iCloud Download icons; if you’ve been affected, I suggest restoring from a backup or following Apple’s Support document.
I’ve harped on it before but here I am again: please make sure you have backups of your data. I highly recommend something local (like a secondary hard drive) and also an off site backup like Backblaze.
XXL reached out to a Twitter rep, who told us they don’t comment on individual accounts for security and privacy reasons. They did, however, direct us towards a very specific part of their guidelines: “We may suspend an account if it has been reported to us as violating our Rules surrounding abuse. When an account engages in abusive behavior, like sending threats to others or impersonating other accounts, we may suspend it temporarily or, in some cases, permanently.”
I don’t think we’d split up as a band so hopefully we’ll try to work out something to do at some point. But also part of me right now just feels like yeah seven albums, that’s great and they form a kind of circle and they all make sense to me now and I feel really proud of them.
There’s a song called “Cynical” that’s really fast, really punk rock. There’s a song called “Rabbit Hole” that I think sounds like it should’ve been on Enema of the State that I think people will really love. Bored To Death is obviously a lot of fun to play.
There’s a song called She’s Out Of Her Mind that sounds like it could’ve been on Take Off Your Pants and Jacket. I think people are going to be really happy when they hear the full album. I can’t wait to play the songs live.
There is equal humility and precocity to these statements, a duality that kept popping up in my conversation with Baker. She called me “ma’am” with a soft drawl, and apologized often when talking about her creative process, worrying that she was being “conceited or indulgent.” Onstage, she offers aw-shucks-ish disclaimers before launching into particularly gloomy refrains, saying, “I’m sorry for bumming everyone out.” At shows, she sometimes wears a T-shirt that says “Sad Songs Make Me Feel Better.” And yet, despite any outward embarrassment, Baker’s lyrics are bold and unapologetic—about having big, bloody emotions, about the kind of epic feels that come in tsunamis and do not abate. Though Baker sings about God, she is not explicitly a Christian artist; instead, whether or not a supreme being exists is just one of many questions she has about the way the world works, and about the mechanisms available to us to process pain.
Ronan Farrow, writing for The Hollywood Reporter, about his father, Woody Allen:
But the old-school media’s slow evolution has helped to create a culture of impunity and silence. Amazon paid millions to work with Woody Allen, bankrolling a new series and film. Actors, including some I admire greatly, continue to line up to star in his movies. “It’s not personal,” one once told me. But it hurts my sister every time one of her heroes like Louis C.K., or a star her age, like Miley Cyrus, works with Woody Allen. Personal is exactly what it is — for my sister, and for women everywhere with allegations of sexual assault that have never been vindicated by a conviction.