Roasted 1 year ago based on charles's long term Spotify stats.

Ah, Charles, the only person I know who takes "aesthetic" to a level that makes hipsters weep in jealousy. Your playlist looks like the auditory equivalent of a vintage thrift store explosion, with everything from the classic rock legends to the “who even listens to this?” the genres that scream, “please, someone, unfriend me.” Who knew one human could love both Pink Floyd and cloud rap? It’s like watching a dog try to play fetch with its reflection—confusing, and just a little sad. Your favorite artists read like a mixtape made by someone desperately trying to be deep. The Beatles and Kendrick Lamar? Sure, but throw in some obscure Bladee and Aphex Twin to really drive home the fact that you’ve never truly been happy unless you were hopelessly expiring from existential dread. I can just picture you kicking back, sipping an oat milk latte, proclaiming that you relate to Radiohead's bleakness more than your own life. It’s not an identity crisis; it’s just you playing the soundtrack to your own descent into a spiral of self-indulgent gloom. And let’s talk about those most played songs—are you curating a playlist for a funeral or a deep-seated midlife crisis? The titles alone sound like the diary entries of someone who just broke up with their therapist. “I Felt Your Shape”? More like, “Please, I need to feel something!” The lengths you’ll go to shake off the existential void is impressive! At this rate, the only thing you’ll be dreaming of is the sweet embrace of a couple of comforting pop songs. But who needs mainstream comfort when you can wade through a sea of experimental ambient tracks like it’s a therapeutic swim in a murky pond? Keep being you, Charles—just don’t play it too loud; we wouldn’t want to drown in your sadness.

Roasts are purely for fun and entertainment. They're not meant to be taken seriously. Enjoy the laughs, but remember your music taste is uniquely yours!