I’ve been working at a children’s clothing store as a sales associate for about two years now. There are many bugbears of working in retail: inadequate pay, inflexible hours, Can-I-Speak-to-the-Manager customers, etc. However, my most chronic complaint would be that against the terrible music played at work.
The company I work for markets to parents and their kids, so an over-sanitized playlist is an expected corollary to the products. The accompanying soundtrack to the garish tutus is often moralistic and excessively positive, as if to reassure shoppers that we are indeed a kid’s store (we’ve been accused of hypersexualizing our brand in the past). These high-energy, saccharine Disney tracks typically champion carefree play, childhood vigour, and how promising the future will be. Lyrically stale and melodically bland, these songs possess scant artistic merit. It’s no surprise that my co-workers and I often gape at each other in bewilderment, wondering if our target customers actually enjoy such vacuous “music.”
Music should not be punitive but energizing.
Remember the turntable in American Horror Story: Asylum? The one that played “Dominique” in a torturous loop? It was meant to subdue the hospital patients and quell any revolt. Well, the playlist at my workplace procures a similar effect. We become brain-dead and apathetic from prolonged exposure to the repeated songs. Such paralysis on part of the employees should be a concern for retailers, since customer service is paramount to their business framework. Still, it’s hard to feign cheerfulness as a salesperson when I’m suffering a 21 Pilots-induced headache. The cyclical soundtrack is especially painful during the holidays when our shifts are stacked. We aren’t paid enough to endure Demi Lovato’s shrill rendition of “Wonderful Christmastime” six times in a day.
Music should not be punitive but energizing for workers. Employees spend the most time on the sales floor. In fact, the duration of the customer’s presence in the store is diminutive when compared to that of a sales associate. Therefore, companies should prioritize employee comfort over mass appeal when it comes to music. Some questions that can offer them guidance include: What do my employees like? What type of music would enhance their moods? The right songs can produce a positive atmosphere that employees enjoy working in. If the associates are content, their performance will necessarily improve. Moreover, enhanced customer service will boost sales as a result. Music can be a powerful stimulant if applied properly and companies should start exploiting such properties.
This does not mean the employees should run amok with the playlist. Instead, I propose better variety in the songs, which can be achieved through both a richer medley of genres and a rotation of different playlists. A more ambitious idea is a collaboration with associates when curating the list. The benefits of this partnership are twofold — companies can retain the integrity of their brand and express sincere interest in employee input. Yet, a tailored playlist requires corporations to accquaint and familiarize themselves with their workers. Puncturing the levels of the corporate hierarchy is a challenge in itself, but a worthwhile pursuit.
It’s a mistake to treat music as idle background noise.
Right now, it seems like my company sloppily concocts their playlists, likely based on superficial research about what middle-class children, aged 9-14 enjoy. Yet, there seems to be a vast disjunction between their assumptions about consumer preference and reality. I’ve seen many patrons furrow their brows when a particularly raucous song comes on. There have been many such cacophonous tunes at work, but I’m thinking of “Ur Cool” in particular. It’s so bad. Especially when amplified from speakers at every corner of the store.
The affective experience of music should not be underestimated. Even if companies subordinate employee requests to generating profit, they should at least consider their brand image. This is especially true in the wake of online stores, which have superseded brick-and-mortar businesses in many ways (e.g., no queues, free shipping, etc.). They’re like the younger, hotter variant of their predecessor. Still, the physical shop is an opportunity to construct an ambiance that cannot be achieved with a webpage. Tangibility has a distinct, irreplacable value and music contributes to this visceral experience of the store. It’s a mistake to treat music as idle background noise. By contrast, music functions as both decoration and creative expression for the shopping environment. The aural character that companies present is inevitably embedded in the customer’s memory. It becomes the souvenir they carry with them when they leave, whether or not they actually buy something.
Note: I recognize that every retail worker’s experience is different. My account may not be representative of how all companies treat their employees — it may very well be an isolated incident. Therefore, I am not making sweeping generalizations of all corporations. I am simply attracting attention to a blemish that most people overlook.