Something I appreciate about working for a small local coffee shop is we’re allowed to play whatever music we want. Unlike the corporate-stocked playlists mandated by most retail chains, at least my employer understands not having Benson Boone serenade from the ceiling 20 times a shift boosts employee morale. As long as explicit music is filtered out, my coworkers and I get to decide exactly what we want to treat our ears to. We have custom playlists we share with each other to enlighten our music tastes. If we feel like listening to Lorde’s entire discography, an eight–hour shift is the perfect opportunity to do so.
Baristas tend to have superior music taste, so our selection also increases customer satisfaction. There was that one time we got a negative review because, “It’s difficult to enjoy my latte when Sean Paul is blasting in my ears,” so my boss banned Sean Paul. Easy! I get to find out who the cool customers are when they comment on the unexpected music — or catch them shazaming it (the most mortifying thing you could be caught doing in the modern era). Music is a much better conversation starter than, “I heard it’s going to rain next week.”
I can handle being yelled at by a customer for their “no ice iced latte” not being cold enough when I can dissociate to Nemahsis or Sampha. My playlist is an ever-expanding mixture of everything from hidden gems to familiar hits that unlock forgotten memories, from all corners of the (listenable) genre spectrum. It makes hustling through a rush or lull much more bearable when I can tune into a variety of music I actually like. And because I’m not constantly listening to radio hits on a loop, I can appreciate some of them and sprinkle them into my playlists. Hot take — “Mystical Magical” is not that bad in moderation.
