2024 in Review, My Spotify Wrapped: We Listen and We Don’t Judge
Happy New Year!!
Though I’m a bit late in sharing my Spotify Wrapped for the year, I thought it would be a fitting way to reflect on 2024. Like many of us, throughout my life music has been a constant companion, a source of comfort, and sometimes even a catalyst for growth. Growing up, music was always present in my home—from my father’s classic rock and Elvis Presley to my uncle’s Beatles obsession and my mother’s enduring love for Motown. (And yes, there were occasional battles over the speaker.) My nieces carried the torch further by performing music themselves—a talent I’ll admire but likely never possess. So today, I’ll take a look at my year in listening and share a bit about the soundtrack of my 2024.
Spotify Wrapped: A Year in Listening
When I first checked my Spotify Wrapped, I was a little surprised by the order of my top artists and songs. While nothing on the list was shocking, I expected my second artist and song to top the charts instead.
Gracie Abrams took the top spot as my most-listened-to artist this year, with her song “Risk” leading the way. While I initially expected Noah Kahan and Jensen McRae’s “Massachusetts” to top the lists, it was these three artists together who ultimately formed the core of my 2024 soundtrack.
Gracie Abrams: An Escape
Gracie Abrams provided an escape of sorts for me this year—whether it was singing (badly) alone in the car or running to the shifting moods of “Risk” and “That’s So True.” (If you know, you know.) Her songs helped me process and provided a kind of catharsis that sometimes only music can provide.
Noah Kahan: Stick Season
As someone who’s been listening to Noah Kahan for years, it was a joy to see the world finally discover him in 2024. Seeing him get his flowers. Watching his Fenway Park performance was an indescribable experience, but perhaps the most poignant memory was driving through the DMV (DC, Maryland, Virginia) area’s tree-lined landscapes, listening to his “Live From Fenway Park” album with a long-lost friend. It was, in many ways, a healing moment. Furthermore, his song “Pain is Cold Water,” with its haunting line, “Pain’s like cold water, your brain just gets used to it,” perfectly captures the resilience that defined much of my year.
Jensen McRae's "Massachusetts"
If I had to pick one artist who had the greatest impact on me this past year, it would be
Her song “Massachusetts” became a constant companion and a source of solace. I first came across it in November of last year on TikTok, where an early version captured me at the exact time I needed it. Though at the time there was a lively debate over whether it should be called "Massachusetts," "Christian Bale," or "Video Games." The song’s core message resonated deeply: even when any type of relationship ends, its remnants stay with you, almost like an unofficial degree in a subject you didn’t choose but still find valuable. Those memories and quirks, once tied to someone else, become part of you. For me, this song echoed the lessons I carried from a friendship I lost at the end of 2023.Through that friendship, I learned to appreciate poetry, the joy of eating with my hands, an appreciation for the animated Barbie movies, and the importance of unapologetically taking up space. Though I never quite mastered the proper use of commas. But the most important thing I learned was that learning and loving are not diminished by impermanence. As Jensen once said, "Love does not have to be permanent to be beautiful." This line has become a guiding mantra for me, reminding me to value all types of relationships not just for their longevity but for their transformative impact.
Since its release on June 11th, "Massachusetts" has rarely left my “On Repeat” playlist, often holding the number one or two spot. The song’s evocative lyrics and haunting melody invite endless reflection on what we take from and what we give to the people who shape us. Jensen’s artistry has helped me honor both the pain and the beauty of loss, embracing how it can lead to growth and self-discovery. Honestly, I could write a full literary analysis on this song—and enjoy every moment of it—but I’ll simply end by urging anyone who hasn’t heard it to give it a listen. Thank you,
, for bringing this masterpiece into the world. And for those who read my stuff, I would encourage you to read hers which is far better: Substack, Instagram, Literary Instagram, LinkTreeBooks: We Read (or listen), and We Don’t Judge
Extending this philosophy to books feels natural, especially since half of my “reading” happens via audiobooks. Whether they be so-called “guilty pleasures” or serious reads we should always find a bit of joy in our reading – much as we do in listening to music – despite how they might be perceived by others. So, in the spirit of “we listen and we don’t judge”, here are some of my favorites this year:
Guilty Pleasure
More Serious Reads
FYI, listening to Matthew Perry narrate the opening of his memoir after his passing was particularly jarring given his opening line.
Poetry
One collection I kept returning to was Zara Bas’s I Have to Tell You Something. Three poems stood out:
“Offer yourself patience in places where memories still bleed.”
2. “Stay soft in the face of callousness, choose a full heart over heartlessness, be a beacon of tenderness where insensitivity cannot thrive. No one can take your warmth from you.”
3. “When you start to heal you start trying new things you put yourself out there to experience things you always wanted to but were afraid to strive for you expand your friendships, career goals, interest when you start healing / lean into all the incandescent new growth.”
This past year I have tried to live by the first two. Next year, I’ll aim to live by the third.
Happy New Year!
As the year comes to a close, two songs seem to encapsulate my reflections and emotions: This Year by The Mountain Goats, with its defiant mantra, “I am going to make it through this year if it kills me,” and the original version of Auld Lang Syne, which resonates with my Scottish heritage and celebrates the timeless power of kindness and connection. May you all have that sort of connection as we close out the year.
What are you listening to? What brings you joy, helps you process memories, or connects you to others? Whatever it is, remember we listen, and we don’t judge.
Happy New Year… Let us all “…tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.”