Spotify Wrapped arrives on different dates each year, and yet despite this, it feels like clockwork—we all spend time wondering how exactly our Wrappeds will turn out, if our top artists are the right balance of what we should be listening to and what we’re actually listening to. At the end of last year, when Wrapped arrived, I immediately saw a clear reaction on social media: nobody liked their results. Most people felt like their top songs were melodies they hadn’t touched in months and that they had barely listened to their ‘favorite’ artists. What made this so fascinating was that people seemed to genuinely care and were surprised about how they had been wronged in their yearlong summary. The thing is—you can access your top artists at any time. There are numerous websites like statsforspotify or last.fm that allow you to technically see your favorite bands, rappers and singers at any point in time. So why exactly is Spotify Wrapped itself so important to us, and why could it have disastrous consequences?
Wrapped feels important to the average listener because it’s a chance to show your status. Unpacking social status via music is the entire purpose of Wrapped: Can you listen to more niche songs than your friends? Are your top artists interesting and unique enough, yet not so unique that they become weird? Wrapped falls into the trap of nearly every form of categorization nowadays—it forces people to try and toe the line between being ‘basic’ and being ‘weird.’ This movement has led to people hiding their Wrappeds, calling them incorrect or specifically tailoring what they listen to so that their Wrapped turns out perfect. What started as a fun recap of the year has turned into a social litmus test, something that has begun to extend to all forms of media consumption.
Wrapped comes along with categories of music meant specifically for our crafted personas: are you a Pink Pilates Princess Strut Pop, an After Hours Football Rap or a Mallgoth Old School Emo Pop Punk? It feels almost comical—most of these categories are very vague, AI-generated terms that miscategorize the artists in them. Take the first one, Pink Pilates Princess Strut Pop—a user receiving this genre most likely listened to Chappell Roan, Taylor Swift and Sabrina Carpenter. And yet, Roan has spoken out to the media multiple times about her dislike of the ‘clean girl aesthetic,’ which prioritizes pilates, self-care and ultimately, fitting yourself into a societal standard. Wrapped isn’t necessarily the root of these pressures; it’s a symptom of a deeper, timeless human need to sort ourselves into categories.
This all feeds into a bigger monster: cringe culture. Wrapped pressures us to avoid being ‘too generic,’ unless it’s the ‘right’ kind of mainstream. Cringe culture thrives on the idea that certain tastes or behaviors are shameful, even though they’re harmless. It’s a phenomenon rooted in fear of being judged, and it’s suffocating. It discourages us from indulging in guilty pleasures or being unapologetically ourselves, turning harmless preferences into sources of embarrassment.
However, blaming Spotify Wrapped as the source of these issues is an oversimplification and a quick excuse. It’s easy to say Wrapped is damaging—that it’s ruining our ability to genuinely listen to music or appreciate albums and artists beyond what their associations in the media are. Nonetheless, none of these points are specific to Spotify Wrapped itself: It isn’t the cause of these issues, as lack of music appreciation stems from social media, microtrends and many other longtime factors. ‘Fixing’ Wrapped won’t be able to solve any of these problems, because there is no way to ‘fix’ something like Spotify Wrapped. Fundamentally, cringe culture is not unique to this year, nor to this century—humanity has and will continue to try to sort and fix ourselves until we fit into specific categories and exist as how a ‘correct’ person should be.
So, I have some different advice. Trust me, it isn’t to log-off your device and go touch grass outside (though that idea isn’t bad for some people). Instead, there’s something deeply special about not trying to ‘find yourself.’ By this, I mean there is no real ultimate self we can achieve. Just like our music tastes, we are constantly changing and evolving, and there is a prominent misguided narrative online to ‘discover’ who we truly are. It implies that there is some greater identity waiting for us if we can find it, listen to enough music that we can find the perfect song, read enough books and save enough clothing boards. It feels hopeful and yet fails to deliver any promises, because there isn’t a perfect individuality that we should each strive to unlock. This idea that deleting TikTok and exploring all forms of media out there until we find what makes us ourselves simply doesn’t work—it just leads to more sorting and more compartmentalization. If you decide to search for your true identity believing that you can simply stumble upon it, you’re missing the point: personality and character are formed through lived experiences, whether that’s out on the beach with your friends, in your room playing video games or a healthy debate in a comment section.
The issue here really isn’t Spotify Wrapped, nor is it Instagram aesthetics or TikTok trends—it’s just how we engage with them. These tools honestly reflect what we put into them; it’s what they’re primed to do. However, instead of using these apps as instruments for self-categorization, we can use them for self-immersion. Throw yourself into experiences and songs, play them on repeat even if they might be on your Wrapped and don’t look to discover yourself: build your own individuality. Though I don’t intend on sounding like a motivational speaker, there is something deeply special and satisfying about simply using media as a laboratory. It’s there for a reason, and digital spaces can actually be ways to test ideas about who you are in real time. Cringe culture may stifle our experimentation, but that’s on us—we can use networks as a way to explore what we actually like beyond performance. It isn’t about spending all day pouring over your computer trying to find the next big thing before it’s here, but instead about using what we have intentionally and purposely.
You don’t need to find yourself amongst the billions of people trying to do the same: you’re already here. Listening to your top songs, debating your Wrapped genres and laughing over playlist names are exactly what you are. Your self isn’t a puzzle to be solved or a key to be unlocked, and your music taste is just one small section of what you love. Your Spotify Wrapped isn’t a judgment; it’s a snapshot of a year in progress. It’s not about what you “should” listen to; it’s about what made you feel something in the moment. And isn’t that the point of music—and life?
