The Intimate Gift of a Playlist

words and photo by Chloe Ricks

I have always thought of music as an incredibly intimate art form. From the way that lyrics often lend themselves to intense, personal emotion to the way fingers gently brush over the strings of a guitar, it’s apparent that music touches people both collectively and individually.

As a child, my babysitter used to make CDs for me as a gift with all of my favorite songs on them, including the theme song from Dora the Explorer and various songs from Disney films. She created CDs for when I was happy, sad, and all kinds of other emotions that I was unable to express at such a young age, but could definitely feel.

Music continued to be an integral part of growing up for me. I learned to play many instruments and sang in choirs. I started attending concerts with my dad, and continued to see live music with friends as I grew older. However, playlist making has really stuck with me consistently throughout the years.

I started using the website 8tracks when I was in middle school, but eventually found my way to Spotify. Now, I often find myself creating playlists that capture emotions as well as playlists for friends filled with music I think they would enjoy or should hear. Music can be incredibly therapeutic, and it is equally as therapeutic to take the time to truly listen and think about what a piece is trying to tell us.

When creating playlists, that is exactly what I do. I take my time and put a lot of care into them.

First, I think of what the purpose of the playlist is. Sometimes it is to create a compilation of songs that I have found through my friends or to share with my friends. Other times it is to give music to a feeling—sorrow, angst, nostalgia, and many other common emotions. I’ve also created playlists centered around situations and moments of my life. For example, one of my favorite playlists is centered around when one of my best friends and I stayed up all night just talking next to a bonfire in their yard. In a way, this is still a feeling that I’m trying to capture, but it is an incredibly specific feeling that is not easily depicted using just one word. No matter which of these methods I choose, they all help me begin to determine what music will go into the selection.

A Moon and Her Goon

My Sister's Tiny Hands - Andrew Bird

Casimir Pulaski Day - Sufjan Stevens

Light On - Pinegrave

Word of Mouth - Shakey Graves

Stubborn Beast - Bear's Den

After I know what the intention of the collection is, I spend a few hours listening carefully to a lot of music. I listen for how the instruments make me feel and take note of how I react. I listen to the lyrics and try to take in what they have to offer. I’m often looking for lyrical similarities across songs, but I often find that the feeling of a playlist is most clearly determined by the instrumental aspects of songs.

For example, if a song is soft and melancholy, it would not make sense to put it on a playlist with grungy garage rock from the 90s because they don’t necessarily evoke the same feelings in the listener. Instruments have a unique way of communicating through timbre and dynamic without saying any words at all. If those qualities aren’t similar amongst songs, the flow of the playlist is disrupted, consequently disrupting the mood that it is encapsulating.

Once I’ve compiled a number of songs that I feel belong together, I listen to them all together one last time to make sure that everything fits and flows nicely. This play through helps me determine whether or not there is a song that sticks out. I find that this is fairly intuitive—if I don’t feel like it fits with the playlist, I just get rid of it without much further thought.

That said, what it’s supposed to sound like varies from playlist to playlist. Occasionally, I make a playlist that has to be listened to in the order that songs appear. However, more often than not, the playlist can simply be shuffled and listened to in any order one would like. I like being able to shuffle a playlist more because then it sounds a little different each time.

After I feel like the selection of songs is perfect, I give it a name. Sometimes it’s a line from a song on the playlist. I’ve also tried making names that are just silly puns. For example, one of my hip hop playlists is called “hippity hoppity” followed by the rabbit emoji. Lately, I’ve been naming playlists after herbs and what their medicinal properties are. For example, I have a playlist titled Chamomile that sounds calming and melancholy. I also have a playlist called “ginseng”, named after an herb that has energizing effects. This playlist consists of a lot of music that is kind of punk but also has a kind of folk or grunge sound. I try to pick a name that I think fits the playlist perfectly. Lastly, I publish the playlist or send it to the person I made it for.

Chamomile

Born to Beg - The National

Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd

Fate - Grey Reverend

All of Me Wants All of You - Sufjan Stevens

Tangles - Lady Lamb

Ginseng

Blitzkrieg Bop - Ramones

Post Break-Up Sex - The Vaccines

Sweet Jane - The Velvet Underground

Add It Up - Violent Femmes

Hey - Pixies

While the playlists I create are no longer compilations of songs from Disney movies and Dora the Explorer burned onto CDs, they are still little gifts of feeling, expressed musically, and shared with others. Music has an incredible power to comfort and bring together that is meant to be both cherished individually and shared with others. Crafting playlists through Spotify has made it easy to spread joy and understanding to both those that I care about and those who stumble upon my playlists merely through wonderful circumstance.