Gawker "actually likes" year-old song that everyone else in the world already knows, likes

Gawker Editor-in-Chief Gabriel Snyder has discovered the Pheonix song "1901"! And he has graciously shared this gem with us, for our benefit! Too bad that Phoenix is already so well known that they appeared on SNL like 8 months ago, and "1901" is currently running about 1,000 times a day in a Cadillac commercial.

From Gawker yesterday:

"A few months ago this song started popping up in my iTunes on shuffle mode, but I kept forgetting to go back to my computer and learn the name."

Yeah, all that crap that keeps popping up in shuffle, but you can't be bothered to actually find out the name of the song or artist, and of course you never knew it to begin with because you don't ever buy any music or seek any out anymore. It's just sort of there. Playing on shuffle.

There's so much wrong with this post, I don't really know where to begin. First is the dated, tone-deaf headline "French Music We Actually Like." Yeah, because, like all French music sucks, dude. I challenge the author of this post to name 5 French artists he either likes or dislikes.

And the whole "actually like" conceit is annoying: apparently they are so discerning in their taste that only occasionally do they come across a song that meets their impeccably high standards. Maybe the trick to finding music you "actually like" is to pay a little bit of attention to music and to occasionally take your iPod off of shuffle mode.

I have to say, though, that the commenters didn't let me down. They quite fairly made a mockery of this post, prompting a bit of snarky defensiveness from Snyder. Examples:

"So tell us about the French music you actually hate, Mr. Snyder."

"I love this song! I do not like the whole "French music we actually like" attitude, though. Have you tried to listen to any French music? As if all French music sounded the same. Oof.

"

My fave:

"Wow, and only eight months after they appeared on SNL! When do you think Gabe's gonna find out Michael Jackson died?"

And Gabriel's weak response:

"I go out on Saturday nights, but apparently not to cool enough parties to know this band as soon as you."

But apparently you don't have to go to parties at all to know about this band:

"You do know this song is also blaring to Cadillac commercials every two or three minutes, too, right?"

and

"The producers of Cougartown, Entourage and every late night talk show ever are going to be so jazzed to find out they go to cooler parties than you too."

Anyway, this whole post is a train wreck and bothers me inordinately for some reason. Gawker, please stick to whining about media layoffs and the recession and New York and leave the music blogging to the pros.

(This, by the way, has nothing whatsoever to do with my commenter account being mysteriously suspended when the refresh happened, and not restored, despite my requests.)

Julia Allison won't leave me alone

Those of you who read Gawker regularly know far too much about Julia Allison. For those who don't, where do I begin?

She used to appear on TV a lot as an "Editor At Large" for Star Magazine talking about, you know, celebrities, then she was a dating columnist for Time Out New York, now she is some sort of "lifecaster" who runs a blog about herself (natch) and two one other real-life Sex and the City character and they go to parties, dress up in matching outfits and get photographed with people. (Bonus: the blog requires you to navigate with a horizontal scroll bar.)

Basically, she is everywhere in a certain corner of the internet, is generally reviled, and has the habit as referring to herself as a "brand".

Okay, so I'm ducking into a doorway in the East Village this morning to light a cigarette and my eyes wander to this:




















Is this that Julia Allison?

If so, this would prove she actually is a real person, not an ad agency composite like Betty Crocker or Aunt Jemima.

Also, true fame can only (but may not) happen when you make yourself ubiquitous. If this is her place of residence, Kudos to Allison for putting her full name, sorry, brand, in her building's buzzer listing.

Julia, don't ever stop.

Gawker is no longer mad at me...

Just as mysteriously as my commenting privilege was revoked, it appears to be restored!

Why Gawker, why?

Well, I have had no reply to my two polite emails asking the gatekeepers at Gawker why I can no longer comment. It is either a mistake, or I may have been silently reprimanded for this comment:

Regarding Bravo Chief Determined To Be Cooler Than You

Nic Fit
9:38 AM on Fri Oct 31 2008

I totally thought that was Steven Cojocaru at first

----

Okay, it seems like a relatively mild (although looksist and totally unnecessary) comment to me. The thing is, Bravo is a major advertiser on Gawker and I could see Nick Denton looking at my bitchy, juvenile comment and thinking, give it a rest for a while, buddy.

Fair enough. They didn't ban me though, and they didn't even remove the comment, so it's hard to say.

Maybe they just realized that I was an unrepentant Gawker comment addict and grew tired of enabling my habit/having to see my comments on every single fucking post.

That said, if anyone has a line into the powers that be at Gawker, could you please beg for my reinstatement?

Banned from Gawker?

What have I done to piss off the gods of commenting over at Gawker to the point where my account is "not enabled" for commenting? What will I do all day when I should be working? I'm thinking it's a mistake because I can still post comments on their sister sites, but it sent a Halloween chill down my spine.

Gawker fameballs

This skyscraper ad placeholder has been in rotation lately on Gawker. It's a collage of some of the notorious nobodies they have elevated in order to shoot down over the last year or so.

My personal favorite is the cash fan waving dude with the Kanye glasses.

How many can you name?

Hey, I got a Gawker Commie

How much of a nerdy time waster am I? So much so that I snagged a commenter award on Gawker!

The prize: the opportunity to take a hard, long look at your life and wonder where it went off course.