Making Use of Tuneful Tongues

By: Mariah Jolie

Words may be enough, but are they as enduring as Sade’s Kiss of Life? Chocolates are sweet, but nothing is more intoxicating than the yearning of a Jeff Buckley record. Flowers are charming, but nothing lasts quite like a Paul McCartney and Michael Jackson collaboration. Romance has always relied on gestures, but music has a way of outliving them all. 

Music, as the unofficial universal language, can say what you’re too afraid to – often in under five minutes. When you share a playlist with someone, you are interlinking a sacred part of yourself. It’s intimate by design: carefully curated, emotionally specific, and meant for a single listener. In many ways, it’s the ultimate love language.

I believe that sharing music and playlists can be safer than words. There’s a certain protection in letting a song speak first. You don’t have to stumble through a confession or anxiously wait for someone’s reaction, you send it, and then you let it go. The worst thing they can do is say nothing. And even then, at least you created something. At least you shared the music. And honestly, if they didn’t get it, they probably just have shitty taste. 

Sharing music is deeply intimate. Have you ever been on the phone with someone past 1:00 a.m., trading songs back and forth? Tracks that remind you of each other… waiting for them to press play, hoping they hear what you hear, and feel what that song makes you feel? The sheer excitement just from being heard. The quiet joy of connecting over something so simple. Someone who just gets it.

I remember one night in particular. I was with this fine man… and I’m talking about ‘90s fine. Goatee, all the fixin’s. We decided to hang out – just a drive that turned into sitting in the car at a park listening to music. 

Out of nowhere, he pulled a song from his archives: Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton’s “Islands in the Stream.” 

I was pleasantly surprised; that song is one of my favorites. He looked at me, a little embarrassed. I nodded slowly and laughed. “Okay, okay,” I said, before queuing up my own response, “Stars” by Simply Red. He knew the artist, which surprised me again. We listened and listened.

Anyways! That moment said more than any compliment could have. It wasn’t about nostalgia or taste alone. It was recognition. The kind that makes you pause and think: “Oh, you’re listening differently.” When someone reaches for a song that is specific, it’s a way of saying, “This matters to me. I hope it matters to you, too.”

And then there’s that other kind of magic when someone sends a song back that you already know. One no one else ever seems to know. That niche artist you’ve been listening to since you were 15 – the one you never bring up because it feels too personal. And somehow, they know them too.

Most importantly, trust yourself. Trust the music. It might feel time-consuming to sit with your feelings long enough to imagine, daydream, hope, and crush a little, but that’s where the good stuff lives. That’s how you create something intentional, something honest.

Playlists don’t promise anything. They don’t demand clarity or commitment. They simply say, “This made me think of you.” And often more than not, that’s enough. 

So don’t be shy, y’all! This Valentine’s Day, drop that playlist! Share dat music! It’s all love!