Sort out your library before Rekordbox inherits it.

Organise · the whole shelf

Your standard, applied to everything

Six naming styles, or write your own template. Folder names, file names, tags and cover art move together, so what Rekordbox reads and what your Finder shows finally agree.

Approve a hundred albums in one gesture, or go through them one at a time. Words you typed yourself are kept — a correction you made by hand is never quietly overwritten by a catalogue.

Identify · double-checked

What this album actually is

MusicBrainz and Discogs, and the sound itself through AcoustID when the name says nothing at all. They disagree often, so nothing is taken on one source's word: a third is consulted as a witness, and it can settle which of two catalogue entries describes your pressing — without writing a single character of its own.

When nothing is trusted, the file is left alone and put on a list for you. A name is never invented.

Quality · what a tagger cannot do

And whether the audio is what it claims

Every other organiser believes the file extension. This one measures where each track's spectrum ends and how sharply it falls off — and then asks a second question no spectrogram can answer: where the audio was cut into frames. An MP3 compresses on a fixed grid, and converting it to FLAC copies that grid along with the sound. Trying all 576 alignments finds it, which reaches even a 320 kbps transcode with no low-pass at all — the file every ceiling-based test lets walk. An album is judged from all of its tracks together, never from a single one, so the MP3 somebody sold you as FLAC is labelled before it reaches your decks.

How to read that yourself →

Mixing

Key and tempo, measured here

From the audio, on your own machine — nothing uploaded, no service, no account — and shown as Camelot neighbours, so what mixes with what is on the screen instead of in your head. Each key carries how decided the reading was, and names the key it beat where the two came in level.

Reversible

Every write, not most of them

Nothing happens until you have read the plan and approved it. Every write is preceded by a reversible backup, and the History screen puts an album back where it was — names, tags and artwork.

A run that fails partway is followed too: what landed is recorded and can be undone like anything else.

Local

There is no DigLibrary server

Not "we don't sell your data" — there is nowhere for it to go. The only addresses this application can reach are the music catalogues themselves, when you ask it to identify something, and Soulseek through your own slskd, if you use that service.

No account, no sign-up, no key shipped inside it. Your library never leaves your Mac, and neither does a list of what is in it.

Untracked

Nothing is counted about you

No analytics, no telemetry, no crash reporting, no update ping — not disabled by a setting, simply not present. It is one grep over the source, and that is the intended way to check it.

Out of the way

Your DJ software is untouched

DigLibrary never opens your Rekordbox or Serato library. It works on the files themselves, which is what those applications read — so you organise first, and import a collection that is already right.

Repeat the measurement

benchmark/

The encoder arms and the scripts that build, measure and score them. Build the transcodes from audio of your own and read the verdicts.

Run the suite

pytest

Every test is offline and deterministic — clocks, sleeps and HTTP transports are injected. Architecture boundaries are asserted by tests, not by convention.

Check the package

Provenance

Published from a tagged commit by a workflow with no stored key, and every release carries a signed attestation you can fetch from PyPI.