Stuck on Repeat: Why I've Been Listening to the Same 99 Songs for 5 Years (And How You Might Be Trapped Too)

The Dopamine Dependency I Didn't Know I Had

Five years ago, I curated the perfect playlist. It had "Celebration" by Kool & The Gang, a sprinkle of SZA, some nostalgic throwbacks, and exactly zero surprises. Every song was a dopamine delivery system I could depend on—a guaranteed mood-lift when anxiety crept in. So, I kept it. And kept it. And kept it.

By year three, I wasn't discovering new music; I was practicing a ritual. By year five, I realized I wasn't making content about music anymore—I was making content about the same 47 songs, analyzing the same bridges, pulling the same lyrical threads. My channel felt like a loop. My ears felt like they were trapped in amber.

Here's the thing: I love jazz. Coltrane. Esperanza Spalding. That late-night lo-fi that sounds like rain on a studio window. But my playlist had maybe three jazz tracks—buried, unplayed, waiting for permission to exist. I'd built a comfort cocoon so tight that even the music I claimed to love couldn't get in.

Why We Get Stuck (And It's Not Laziness)

The reasons are threefold, and if you recognize yourself in all three, you're probably stuck too.

First: emotional attachment. Those 99 songs are tied to specific moments—a breakup, a promotion, a 3 a.m. crying session that felt holy. They're time capsules. Playing a new song feels like a small betrayal of that moment, like I'm trying to rewrite history instead of honoring it.

Second: analysis paralysis. There are literally 100 million songs on Spotify. Picking one new track to try feels like standing in front of an infinite menu at 2 a.m. So, I don't. I hit shuffle on the 47 I know will deliver.

Third (and this is the big one): I was using my playlist as an emotional regulation tool, not as art. Feel-good songs, dopamine hits, guaranteed serotonin bumps. My brain learned: when you feel bad, press play on the same songs because those specific one's work. Trying something new = risk of not working = anxiety = back to "Celebration."

The Wake-Up Call

I was recording Friday's Playlist Therapy episode and realized I'd analyzed the same four bars of a song three weeks in a row. My audience was probably thinking, "Girl, we get it—that horn section slaps. What else you got?" But I didn't have anything else. I was out of fresh material because I'd stopped being open to fresh input.

That's when it hit me: I wasn't stuck on a playlist. I was stuck in an emotional loop. And as long as I kept feeding that loop with the same songs, I'd never break it.

What Unstuck Looks Like (For Me, and Maybe You)

I decided unstuck doesn't mean abandoning my 47 songs. It means making space for new ones—especially the jazz tracks I keep saying I love but never actually listen to. It means asking my community: "What song should I add?" instead of pretending I have all the answers. It means understanding that a new song isn't a betrayal of an old memory; it's proof that I'm still alive and changing.

I'm opening the door. And I'm inviting you to walk through it with me.

## Your Turn – Help Me Get Unstuck

Drop your song suggestion in the YouTube comments under this week's video (link below). One track—could be jazz, could be a deep cut from 2003, could be something you heard on the bus last week and haven't stopped thinking about. I will add it to the main video on next week's launch. 

And maybe—just maybe—five years from now, I'll have a different playlist. Different songs. Same heart.

Ready to get unstuck?

See you in the comments. 

—The Adorable Savage