What Your Music Taste Says About Your Dating Life
You’re on a date with someone you like. The conversation is flowing, the food is good, and then they ask the question: “What kind of music do you listen to?”
You say Afrobeats. They ask who your favourite artist is. You say Wizkid. They say Davido is better.
Suddenly, the date has taken a turn nobody prepared for.
You can disagree about football teams, argue over whether jollof rice tastes better in Lagos or Ghana, and probably survive a few questionable opinions about movies. But music taste? That feels personal.
The music we listen to can become part of how we understand ourselves, how we flirt, and how we decide whether somebody is our kind of person. A playlist can tell you what someone does when they’re heartbroken, what they play when they’re getting ready to go out, or which artist they have defended online with the energy of a lawyer fighting for a client’s freedom.
Naturally, we make assumptions.
Here are a few people you might recognise.
The person who listens to nothing but love songs
Their playlist is full of Tems, Sade, John Legend, and every Nigerian song that sounds like somebody is promising to love you until the end of time. They send you lyrics, make you listen to the bridge of a song, and somehow find a way to bring up Perfect by Ed Sheeran when you’re discussing what to order for dinner.
At first, it’s adorable. You feel seen. Somebody is paying attention to the little things, and the soundtrack to your budding romance is genuinely excellent.
Then you realise every song they send you is about forever.
You’ve known each other for eleven days.
There is nothing wrong with being sentimental, of course. Music gives people a way to express feelings they might struggle to say out loud. A song can make it easier to admit that you miss somebody or that you’re starting to care about them.
Still, there is a difference between enjoying romance and using music to fast-forward through the actual work of building a relationship.
Enjoy the playlist. Appreciate the dedication. Just make sure the person singing about forever is also capable of making plans for Saturday.
The person whose entire personality is Wizkid
You don’t date this person alone. You date them and their allegiance to Wizkid.
Every conversation eventually circles back to Big Wiz. You mention a new song, and they have an opinion. You mention another artist, and they have a comparison. You say Davido has released a good record, and suddenly you’re listening to a ten-minute explanation of why Wizkid’s catalogue is superior.
At some point, you begin to wonder whether you’re dating a person or applying to join a fan club.
The funny thing is that a favourite artist can tell you something interesting about a person. Maybe they grew up listening to Wizkid. Maybe Made in Lagos reminds them of a particular period in their life. Maybe they love the way his music moves between Afrobeats, R&B and other sounds without losing its identity.
Music becomes memory, and sometimes defending an artist is a way of defending the part of yourself that grew up with their music.
That is understandable. Being passionate about something can be attractive. It gives you a glimpse of what excites someone, what they value and what they can talk about for hours.
The trouble starts when liking the same artist becomes a requirement for being taken seriously.
You can admire someone’s taste without agreeing with every opinion they have about music. You can even date a Davido fan. Life will go on.
Besides, if you are both arguing about who made the better album, at least you have something to talk about.
The person who sends you songs instead of communicating
This one is particularly dangerous because, initially, it feels like excellent flirting.
They send you a song at 11:47 p.m. with no explanation. You listen to it. The lyrics are suspiciously specific. The singer is talking about missing somebody, wanting them close, or being unable to stop thinking about them.
You replay it.
You check the lyrics.
You wonder whether this is a confession.
You send the song to your friend for analysis. Your friend sends it to another friend. Before long, a three-minute record has become a full investigation involving people who have never met this person.
Meanwhile, they might simply have heard a good song.
Of course, music can be an intimate form of communication. Sharing a song is sharing a little piece of your inner world. It can mean, “This reminded me of you,” or “I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling, but listen to this.”
That is part of what makes it so lovely.
But what happens when the playlist becomes the entire conversation?
They send you songs about commitment but avoid defining the relationship. They send you songs about missing you but never make time to see you. They send you songs about loving somebody properly while behaving like the relationship is a group project they forgot to submit.
At some point, the lyrics have to meet reality.
A song can communicate a feeling. It cannot establish the terms of a relationship.
Enjoy the music. Read between the lines if you want to. Just don’t let a Spotify link do the work of an honest conversation.
The person who listens to sad music and claims they’re fine
Their playlist sounds like somebody has just experienced the worst breakup in human history.
There is SZA. There is Adele. There is a suspicious amount of Frank Ocean. Depending on the day, you might also find themselves listening to heartbreak records by Omah Lay or replaying a song that sounds like the singer has been personally betrayed by God.
Ask how they’re doing, and they’ll tell you they’re good.
Ask why they’ve played the same sad song six times, and suddenly they have an appointment elsewhere.
The interesting thing about people like this is that their music taste may be less about sadness than about having somewhere to put it. Sometimes a song gives you permission to feel something without having to explain it to anybody. Sometimes you want music that understands the mood you’re in rather than music that tries to cheer you up.
That can be a beautiful thing to share with someone. You might discover that beneath the jokes and the carefully maintained appearance of being fine is a person who feels things deeply.
Still, dating somebody who loves sad music doesn’t automatically mean you’re dating an emotionally unavailable person. They may simply appreciate good songwriting.
Not every listening experience needs a dissertation.
The real question is whether they can talk about their feelings when it matters, rather than making you decode an entire album to figure out what is wrong.
The music snob who thinks your taste is a character flaw
You tell them you like a song. They ask whether you’ve listened to the artist’s older work.
You say you enjoy Afrobeats. They start explaining why the genre has declined. You mention a song that’s been trending on TikTok, and they look at you as though you’ve confessed to a serious moral failing.
Their favourite artists are always slightly obscure, their playlists are carefully curated, and they have strong opinions about production credits. They know who produced the record, which sample it uses, and why the second album was artistically superior to the first.
Honestly, some of this is impressive.
Being with someone who knows a lot about music can introduce you to artists and sounds you might never have discovered on your own. They might teach you to appreciate songwriting, production, instrumentation or the small details that make a record special.
The problem is when knowledge becomes a competition.
They don’t want to share their taste with you. They want to prove that theirs is better.
Suddenly, enjoying music becomes an examination you never agreed to sit. You’re expected to know the right albums, the correct influences and the artists you’re supposed to respect. If you like a popular song, you must explain yourself.
There is a difference between having discerning taste and using taste to establish a hierarchy between yourself and other people.
You can love music deeply without treating every conversation about it like a panel discussion.
If someone makes you feel stupid for enjoying a song, the problem may not be your playlist.
The person who insists they listen to everything
Ask them what they listen to, and the answer is immediate: everything.
Afrobeats, R&B, hip-hop, gospel, highlife, jazz, rock, amapiano. Name a genre, and they’ll tell you they’re open to it.
At first, this sounds promising. They seem curious, flexible and willing to explore. They won’t complain when you play your favourite album in the car, and you probably won’t have to negotiate for twenty minutes over who controls the aux.
But then you hand them the music.
They skip the first song. They skip the second. By the third, they’re asking if you have anything else.
Suddenly, you begin to suspect that “I listen to everything” means “I listen to whatever I already like, regardless of genre.”
To be fair, nobody has to enjoy every kind of music. You can appreciate the technical brilliance of a record and still not want to hear it on your way to work. Having preferences is normal.
What matters is the curiosity behind the claim.
Are they willing to listen to something unfamiliar because you love it? Can they let you explain why a particular artist matters to you, even if the music isn’t immediately their thing? Can they enjoy discovering something new without turning it into a contest over whose taste is more sophisticated?
That kind of openness can make dating someone fun. You get to exchange worlds, not just playlists.
Sometimes the best part of sharing music is watching someone discover a song they would never have found on their own.
So, should you judge someone by their music taste?
A little bit of judgement is inevitable. We attach memories, identities and emotions to music, so it makes sense that someone’s listening habits might catch our attention.
Maybe you love that they know every word to an old Asa song. Maybe their enthusiasm for a new artist makes you curious. Maybe you discover that you have completely different tastes but enjoy introducing each other to new music.
Those are all useful things to learn about someone.
But a playlist cannot tell you everything. The person who listens to love songs might struggle to express affection. The person who loves sad music might be perfectly happy. The person who knows every detail of an artist’s catalogue might be generous and curious, or they might be exhausting about it.
You have to spend time with them to find out.
Music can be a conversation starter, a shared memory, a flirtation, or a way of saying something you don’t yet know how to say. It can reveal little pieces of a person, but it cannot replace getting to know them.
So, by all means, ask about their favourite artist. Send them a song. Argue about the better album. Build a playlist together.
Just remember that the person who sends you a song about forever still has to show up tomorrow.
