Spotify Wrapped: Exposing the Superficiality and Perfectionism In It
A music fan’s highlight of the year has dropped: Spotify Wrapped. On November 29th, 2023, Spotify released its annual music report card summarizing an individual’s listening activity over the past year. After launching in 2016, Wrapped has become a yearly social media phenomenon. The intention of Spotify Wrapped was to promote the platform through user metrics—and it worked. Upon its release, I opened Instagram and was met with hundreds of Spotify Wrapped screenshots. For that one day, Instagram became the ground Spotify ran on. Its growing publicity, however, causes me to question the purity of enjoying music, as it seems Spotify Wrapped exposes the persistent underlying issues of self-perception and perfectionism that society still retains.
Amidst the thousands of tweets concerned about the cutoff date for Wrapped data, Spotify reassures their listeners that “Wrapped is still counting past Oct. 31.” A rush of replies flocked in: “When is the last day??? I need to fix my music” and “so i still have time to fix it.” Others replied to these comments with things such as “just listen to your music,” suggesting that people try too hard to craft an intricate image of themselves, instead of just enjoying what they like. Fixing one’s music implies a need to achieve a refined Wrapped, which doesn’t authentically reflect the user’s listening activity but rather the parts of it they want to show. The inquiry of time remaining to fix their music communicates their sense of urgency and panic in fostering a flawless reflection of their musical profile and, by extension, themselves. Moreover, as the days draw closer to Wrapped’s release, people excessively stream music in an attempt to increase their listening minutes. With an ideal top five songs and a high listening count, people can’t help but not be impressed.
I, too, have been guilty of this. I have composed twenty-minute playlists consisting of songs I know I want to be in my top five. I push AirPods into my ears the second I can, purposely trying to rack up my minutes. I loop artists and songs to escalate their positions in my data. My Spotify Wrapped, though still a reflection of who I am as a listener, is a strategically fabricated illusion.
Similarly, social media platforms like Instagram and Snapchat promote this usage. Society tends to primarily post the most worthwhile portions of their life—eating out with friends, accomplishments, and traveling. The rising app, BeReal, aims to reverse this effect by randomly sending out a “Time to BeReal” notification where one should post what they are currently doing, regardless of how mundane or grand it is. BeReal’s method encourages the normalization and cherishing of the ordinary, uneventful moments in life. On the contrary, my social media footprint, specifically my musical identity, is defined by what I want others to see. It is not truly representative of me as an audiophile. Even those who purposely extra-streamed the artist they enjoy to ensure their position on the top five artists are victims of society’s standards for exhibiting only the best.
Mankind’s tendency to boast dates back to ancient times. Artworks in Ancient Greece depict multiple instances of battles where one kingdom defeats the other—an everlasting reminder of who is stronger, more powerful, and thus the best. An anonymous artist in Greece painted several kraters and named them the Calyx-Kraters, though I am focusing on one of them. What is particularly evil about this artwork is that it conveys an apparent desire to be unparalleled—it must be the best regardless of cost. While the purpose of this artwork is to provide room to mix water and wine, its designs tell a separate matter. Illustrating the battle of Amazonomachy between the Amazons and Greeks, the artwork illuminates the Greeks’ triumph but also represents the Amazons’ defeat. It is a constant reminder of their supposed weakness, inferiority, and incompetence; it’s pushing one group down to elevate another. This raises the question: what does this say about humanity if society strives to knock others down to uplift themselves? It’s a self-destructive issue buried within the art of this piece. It’s in our history.
There is a pressure of perfectionism that suffocates our unnecessary concern of how others perceive us. We often gravitate where we are liked because we feel accepted. In this sense, we have formed a belief that acceptance must equate to being liked. Our concern about how we are perceived tips us into a void of narcissism, ignorance, and perfectionism. There should be no need to impress others with an art form that is so incredibly subjective. Society, however, cares too much about the wrong things.
I have realized that Spotify Wrapped triggers the neglected section of my brain that wants to be flawless, perfect, and liked—it grabs at and exploits that section. What I’ve learned about perfectionism is, and get this, that you’ll never achieve it. I’ve found that my attempts at perfection never see the light of day despite how near-perfect they are, and it’s better to redirect my desire to be good into something else that will ultimately elicit a sense of worthiness. The absence of your favorite artist on Wrapped does not negate your love for them. To know that is to be secure in yourself. It is in embracing the genuine joy of our connections with music, unburdened by validation or external pressures, that we can find security in ourselves. So, listen to the music you want to.
