Why I Love To Hate Adam Levine

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People's Choice Awards Press Room

It may have become apparent to regular readers of this website by now that I have a bit of a hate-on for Maroon 5 frontman, The Voice judge, and all-around dufus Adam Levine. Whether I'm celebrating his untimely death on American Horror Story or looking askance at his upcoming Saturday Night Live hosting gig, he fills me with a distaste almost too intense for words. Even when he is doing things I approve of, I recoil. His smug screed about the miracles of magic mushrooms, for instance, almost ruined my favorite Wednesday night activity forever.

But how, you ask, can I hate someone I don't even know? I think at this point it's important to differentiate between Adam Levine, private individual, and Adam Levine, the product. I have no idea what he's like behind closed doors; perhaps he's a nice guy who only plays a ridiculous douchenozzle on TV. When I say I hate Adam Levine, what I really mean is, “based on all of his publicly published output thus far.” But I think you can assume that about every celebrity we write about.

I'll break it down by number.

1.) His face

I am not going to argue that Adam Levine is not attractive. He is, infuriatingly so. But there's something about the expression he wears in every photo that makes him look supremely smug and punchable. I bet people try to fight him a lot. I would.

2.) His music

If ever there was a person who has not earned the right to cover himself head to toe in cool tattoos, it is Adam Levine. Maroon 5 is the worst example of cloying white boy pseudo-funk to rule the radio charts in quite some time. It's the same thing over and over again and really annoying. It is a lifeless, soulless, dead, ugly thing, produced at the precise timbre at which joy dies. I want to throw up just thinking about his affected pronunciations. At least John Mayer owns up to his own obnoxiousness somewhat. And it is everywhere. You can't buy orange juice or ride an elevator without the dumb whistle hook to Moves Like Jagger slicing through your soul like a knife.

“But it's catchy!” you say. Yeah, so's ebola. Do you know how many times I've wanted to claw my brain out after having that thing burrow deep inside like an alien parasite over the course of a simple beer run? If you think this is fun party music, there's a good chance you're currently being held in one of the many underground detention centers being secretly run by the US government, and that they have succeeded in breaking you.

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