In this month’s piece for Dialect, I admit to naming playlists after crushes and ex-boyfriends, having embarrassing musical taste, not reading the fine print… and still end up feeling smarter and superior.
When someone’s online activities come back to embarrass them offline, I always just roll my eyes. It seems silly that anyone could be surprised that tweets, blog posts, or photo sharing comes back to bite them. You put it on the internet, man, of course it’s public.
When I got my Spotify invite, I was so excited to share mixtapes with long-distance friends that, well, I didn’t think through how I store my own music. The concept of Spotify, with the ability to make and share playlists, seems like a stunning cyberpunk future.
Here’s my confession, internet: A lot of my musical taste is boyfriend-influenced, and, even more embarrassingly, most of my music is sorted by guys’ names and place names.
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