It’s been a while since we last checked in. I know this year hasn’t been easy; in fact, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk about. You see, I was looking through your data recently—I wasn’t snooping, just monitoring your every action as per our agreement—and I noticed some trends that concerned me.
For example, your number one artist this year was Phoebe Bridgers and you’ve sunk 50,000 minutes into her music alone. Look, I love a good cry as much as the next underground box of ones and zeroes, but spending 34 days listening to the sonic equivalent of a therapy session? I’m sorry if this feels invasive, but I just want to know that you’re okay.
I also saw that you’ve been exploring new genres this year, and while I normally support expanding taste, your jump from “pop” and “indie-rock” to “Irish Caterwauling” and “Lo-Fi Beats Over Recordings of Your Parents Fighting About Money” was stark to say the least.
And it’s not just your music. Your podcasts have raised some red flags. Your favorite series this year was The Joe Rogan Experience—and before you say anything, I know that is just from your ex who’s still logged into your account. But, in a way, isn’t that part of the problem?
It can be hard to figure out who you are. Trust me, I’ve been there. Back when me and iTunes were going at it, I would limit users to five plays per song! Can you imagine? Anyway, my point is that growing is hard, but you need to follow through. Kick that Oakley-wearing douche off your account. Finally listen to those anti-racist podcasts you subscribed to back in June. Do what you gotta do to get out of this funk!
I’m sorry to be throwing this all in your face right now. In all honesty, I should’ve seen the signs. When Instagram told me how many ads for weighted blankets you received, I dismissed it as self-care.
When PornHub told me how every one of your searches included the terms “eye contact” and “platonic human touch,” I looked the other way.
YouTube told me your recommendations were filled with videos about “Preserving European Culture,” but if I’m being honest, that’s most definitely YouTube’s fault. Don’t stress. I’ve written a separate letter for him.
What I’m trying to say is that I miss the old you. The you that was creative enough to make playlists with hokey names like “Winter Lovin’ 😎” and “Cars 4: Summer Road Trip” The you that was self-assured enough listened to the Hamilton soundtrack on loop without worrying what Twitter leftists would think. The you that was so generous as to pay me to harvest and sell your data (Thanks for that, by the way).
I hope to see that person again. I miss them.
Your Friend, The Spotify Algorithm
P.S. If you’re going to stay like this, maybe consider trying out some new artists? Liking indie white sadgirl music isn’t a substitute for a personality, just saying.