It’s Hard Out Here for a
Pimp Music Journalist
posted by April 23 at 16:19 PMon
Today Idolator linked to James Montgomery’s article about what it’s like to be a music journalist in the day and age when mainstream music writing is more about chasing down stories about rumored sex tapes and “monitoring baby bumps”:
For a solid hour on Tuesday afternoon, I basically should’ve gotten fired from my job. This is not because I was drinking in the office again or harassing my (sorta) co-worker Heidi Montag or even stealing boxes from the supply closet to complete my awesome fort (that was Monday).
No, it was because I was furiously Googling photos of Miley Cyrus in her bra.
OK, now before Human Resources contacts me (or my wife leaves me), please know that I was doing said Googling for a story I was working on — a follow-up to a 300-word blurb we ran on Monday that was read by 71,000 people (!) in less than 24 hours. (By comparison, last week’s Bigger Than the Sound is currently sitting at just more than 2,400 clicks.) Please know that I am not some sort of crazy pervert and that — to borrow perhaps the most overused excuse of all time — I was just doing my job (honest).
I’m not exactly sure what the rest of you were doing, though. Because for most of Tuesday, “Miley Cyrus Bra” was the most-searched term on Google, ahead of “Pennsylvania Exit Polls,” “Kijana Carter” and “Earth Day.” Phrases like “Racy Miley Cyrus Photos” and “Miley Cyrus Underwear Pictures” also logged time in Google Trends’ Top 100, as did pretty much any possible combination of the words “leaked,” “pics” and “Net” you could think of (also, nice to see “Vanessa Hudgens Pics” making a comeback).
Basically, for an entire day, people were more interested in seeking out semi-nude — and possibly fake? — photos of a 15-year-old pop star than they were in reading about the death of soul singer Al Wilson (which is sad), potential Jeep Liberty recalls (which is terrifying) and “Alligator in Kitchen” (which is puzzling). And while all of that should probably make me want to curl up and die — or at least weep for the state of humanity — it doesn’t. Because this has basically become my entire life.