Stop the Stereotype: People shouldn’t judge others based on their Spotify music choices

My 2020 Spotify Wrapped listed my top artists as The Beatles, Harry Styles, and the Cast of Victorious. Despite its accuracy, I knew right away no one on Instagram would be seeing this on my story. 

People would judge me, thinking I’m a wannabe indie kid, a former One Direction fangirl or a 10-year-old Justice shopper, but I’m none of those –– except maybe a wannabe indie kid.

People, especially teens, often use music as another way to divide us into categories, stereotyping us into groups that tell us how we should behave or feel. But that’s not what music is for –– it should allow us to come together on similar interests with no divisions.

Watching everyone post their Spotify Wrapped on their Instagram stories, it’s easy –– maybe even entertaining –– to make assumptions about their character and personality. Noticing King Princess play across the phone screen and thinking, “Yeah, they’re definitely bisexual,” followed by “Ribs” by Lorde, so now it’s “Oh, they’re bisexual and sad.” But music taste shouldn’t define or categorize us, and labeling people based off of this prevents us from really getting to know them. 

Music has the capability to connect people –– it’s an artistry that a part of everyone loves and we can relate to with the people around us. But we’re sucked into believing stereotypes created by social media that label us based on our music preferences –– Hozier listeners are all cottagecore and only band geeks like Twenty One Pilots. These judgements make people embarrassed or insecure over their music taste, and they end up hiding their favorite artists and genres just so they aren’t depicted as something they don’t identify as. 

It can be fun to try to interpret meanings behind songs, but we have to be aware that basing your view of a person off of their music taste restricts your understanding of them. I should be able like a song about social anxiety just because it’s catchy, even if I don’t personally relate to it. 

If I wanted to show my friend a new song I found by Billie Eilish, I would instantly be met with cynical comments about being “emo” or depressed. Comments like those make me uncomfortable expressing myself around them, beyond just being in charge of the aux. Even if it’s meant to be a joke, that remark would make me feel like I couldn’t listen to that song or artist without being “emo.”

It’s a more serious conversation when someone is hesitant to let anyone see “Sofia” on their playlist in fear of the question “Are you Cavetown gay, Phoebe Bridgers gay or Girl in Red gay?” You’re not going to get all the details of a person’s sexuality and personality from one song.

We don’t necessarily have to forget what we feel these songs say about someone, we just have to be open-minded to the fact that people don’t fit into perfect molds –– whatever created us liked to color outside the lines.

Stereotypes are inevitable. They’re an unfortunate part of society –– online and face-to-face. People shouldn’t feel like they have to listen to the type of music associated with their clique just so they seem like what society morphed them to be. Athletic guys and douchebags don’t have to listen to rap music, indie listeners aren’t all misfits and Weezer fans aren’t all virgins.  

Our personalities, fashion choices and friend groups can be a mismatched mess of who we are, and so can our music preferences. No one asks questions when I walk in sweats and a t-shirt with my friend who’s in a floor-length skirt down the hallway, but dare I listen to anything but Frank Ocean. People are complicated, so one song doesn’t define who they are, especially when you don’t even know them.

All these stereotypes defeat music’s purpose –– it’s meant to be our connection to people we never would have connected with otherwise. No one can know a stranger if they’re arrogant perceptions of music decide they already know who they are. Someone who likes country music doesn’t have to wear cowboy boots, jeans and a MAGA hat just because that’s what people assumed after seeing Luke Combs was their top artist this year.

According to the Greater Good Science Center, music can increase our trust in other people and fabricate bonding –– when you’re at a concert, you can feel a connection to the other 20,000 dancing people as the base thumps loud in the speakers, through the floor and up to your chest. So why weaken something so uniting by making people feel self-conscious about their music tastes? 

It’s possible that I listen to Mom Jeans and I’m not gay, that alternative rock was in my top five genres this year on Spotify Wrapped and I don’t want to kill my parents or that “Sweater Weather” could be blaring from my radio while my pants aren’t simultaneously cuffed just above my ankle. 

Maybe the emo kid listens to pop and the 10-year-old Justice shopper likes heavy metal –– no one would really know unless they asked.