I Have 174 Spotify Playlists

And here’s how they can help you

With my graduation date approaching, I have increasingly found myself to be even more nostalgic than I usually am and that’s saying a lot.

I’m the friend that cries when hanging out because I just know that in the future I’m going to think about a memory that just happened; or I often find myself walking on campus, stopping, and thinking I wish I could just bottle everything about this moment up and keep it with me forever.

While no one has quite invented a way to do that just yet, I’ve tried a few ways to capture memories: I have kept journals — and then they collected dust under my bed half-filled out. I have made scrapbooks — and have too many X-Acto Knife scars to count. I’ve taken pictures, yet can’t quite replicate the true joy I feel.

In the summer between eighth grade and my freshman year of high school, while in the midst of teenage angst, I began to make monthly Spotify playlists in order to truly encapsulate how I felt that month through the songs I gravitated towards.

Historically, I have never been the best emotional communicator without the frequent attempt to lighten the mood. Ninety-nine percent of the time I’m a freakin’ ray of sunshine that farts sparkles and rainbows, so I never quite know how to publicly navigate the 1% of the time when I seem to have a thundercloud over my head.

GIF from Giphy

I mean, it doesn’t quite help that I happen to cry any time I am mad, sad, happy, you-name-it. But what do I do if I ever find myself overwhelmed by emotion? I walk away, get into my car, and turn on a playlist that best communicates the feelings that I have. It’s like clockwork and it works every single time.

Throughout my life, music has been how I have expressed the feelings that I simply cannot put into words myself. As a new feeling or major life event arises, I create a playlist — along with my monthly ones. These playlists act as my heart extended and I am both very proud and protective of them.

When my professor Gary Kayye gave me the idea to write my semester-long blog about these playlists and how they communicate differrent emotions, I was terrified at first. I mean these blogs are going on my LinkedIn. Shouldn’t I be writing about how much I love auto layout in Figma or how I believe Instagram Reels give businesses more traction than TikTok?

While those things do captivate my attention from time-to-time, they don’t quite communicate who Ella is. Plus, I’m sure on the slim chance that the recruiter who finds themselves on this blog post wants a freshly-graduated 21-year-old to tell them about things they most likely already know. So, why not have a little fun with this blog and write about something that gives me true joy to write about?

When creating these playlists, I often find myself correlating certain genres with the same emotions. For example, if am ever at a point where I am truly happy for an extended period of time — I will find that month’s playlist to have a lot of country music on it, possibly an ode to my childhood or rural-ish hometown. Or if I find myself in a time of self-reflection and confusion, I’ll listen to a lot of worship music because I yearn to cling to something bigger than me whenever I feel small.

However, the music that I gravitate towards the most when I find myself overwhelmed by emotion is the kind with ironically no words in it at all. Both classical pieces and instrumental movie scores have captivated me with how subjective every listening experience is dependent on where you are at in life and how you are feeling.

Whether it be an epic movie score from a Marvel movie or a cozy melodic piece from a rom-com, every respective listening experience is different. Without the influence of possibly authoritative vocal influence, listeners bring their own experiences and apply the music to whatever part of their life that needs to be expressed or felt.

Take Emile Mosseri’s Jacob and the Stone for example, the mellow French Horns waving between the peacefully undulating woodwinds could be interpreted as a piece of hope and willful submission or it could be taken as one of muted-grief and sadness — take a listen to it, what do you think?

What does this have to do with You?

There are 8 core emotions: joy, sadness, anger, disgust, fear, trust, surprise, and anticipation.

Image from The Storied Mind

Enough about me, how could my playlist possibly help you as the reader? Don’t we all have our own emotions and songs that we turn to? Yes, but I hope that out of my 174 playlists I can help point you towards some new tracks … and possibly create a new self-regulation system that could be helpful in times of overwhelming emotion (please keep going to therapy, I am only a 21-year-old girl who has no idea what she is doing, ever).

Each week, I am going to write two posts about a playlist of mine and how it corresponds to one of the 8 core human emotions. In these posts, I am going to embed a playlist, possibly tell a story of what was going on in my life at the time, and how this music helped me both identify and experience this emotion the fullest.

I may include new playlists that I create throughout this semester, as well as old. I do have a really cool semester ahead after all: a trip to New York City (semi-alone) to network with Advertising Firms, a possible trip to Costa Rica, a week-long documentary shoot in Buenos Aires, Argentina in March, along with other miscellaneous senior year activities.

What to do next?

First, be friends with me on Spotify! Next, sign up for a newsletter on my contact page to get updates on when I post! And third, connect with me on LinkedIn and comment on my blog post announcements so I can impress my fellow peers on how awesome and cool my blog posts are, maybe I’ll get a job out of it!

Thank you so much for reading this novel of a blog post, it really means a lot! If you enjoyed this, check out my other posts.

With love, Ella