Illustration by Joy Burke
This weekend, I’m getting married. Morgan and I have been together for over seven years at this point, and we’re having a small ceremony at her parents’ house in the woods. It'll be followed by a bigger party with some friends and family. She’s a fine art photographer, I write about music, and we were looking to cut corners on costs. Here's what we realized:
- She didn't want to hire a wedding photographer.
- I thought it would be best to enlist DJ Pre-Prepared Playlists Via My MacBook Air.
At this point, I’ve spent hours trying to nail down the right playlists, and it is not an easy job. There's a lot of second-guessing involved. I frequently catch myself trying to get in the heads of my more musically attuned friends who will be in attendance—people in bands, friends who have been loudly critical of my road trip playlists, and so forth. I've had to remind myself a bunch of times that hey, it's my wedding, and if people have a problem with the music I pick, tough shit.
Of course, it isn't that simple; there's still a crowd to please. Ultimately, it’s your day, and you can do whatever the hell you want, but you also have to take a minute to consider your audience. If I curated “A Very Garage Punk Wedding”, I might love it, but I'd be in a very small minority.
I've been asked to give some advice about how to prepare wedding playlists. That’s not an easy job. Every wedding and person is, obviously, very different. Your “rented hall and wedding planner” wedding is likely going to be very different from our "DIY, tent in the woods" wedding. (Man, do I hate the term “DIY wedding” with all its Pinterest and Etsy-based aesthetic implications, but it is what it is.)
If you want to be the music czar of your own nuptials, your job is to curate songs that mean something to you, create an atmosphere for mingling, and hopefully make it possible for you and your guests to dance and have fun.
And remember: You’re celebrating a partnership, so your wedding music is a democracy. Talk to the person you love, and if they say, “There’s no fucking way we’re playing Frankie Smith's 'Double Dutch Bus' at our reception,” you have to begrudgingly respect that wish.
Here are some thoughts on the wedding's various music possibilities along with my picks and playlists (sans anything that isn't on Spotify, natch).
Processional
The aisle walk is a good spot for a more popular love song, but as is the case with every single element of your wedding, it should mean something to you. One of my closest friends had a cello and clarinet play “God Only Knows”, which was obviously a slam dunk. The possibilities are endless, so think about a song you’ve both made moon eyes to and go with it.
What We’re Doing: Morgan’s uncle, who’s an excellent guitarist, is doing an instrumental version of the Beatles’ “In My Life”.
Alternate Recommendations: A children’s chorus singing a beatific rendition of Ramones’ “Oh Oh I Love Her So”. “Ram On” on ukulele but with just the whistling part instead of the actual vocals. “Satellite of Love”. You get the idea.
Recessional
Think of something that sounds happy or at least content. The big moment’s just happened, the officiant's job is done, and now, something joyous could play while you guys kiss and walk away.
We initially thought about having George Harrison’s version of “If Not For You” play—All Things Must Pass was a very big deal in the early months of our relationship. Then we realized we didn’t want it to be such a Beatle-heavy ceremony.
What We’re Doing: Brian Eno’s “Burning Airlines Give You So Much More”. A weird pick, definitely—it’s not really a happy, content, or romantic song. The lyrics are about the narrator’s love leaving him to live in China and get married to someone else. But the melody is joyful and strange, and it makes me think of the coming years of the two of us listening to Taking Tiger Mountain in our living room. (Which is how we both came up with this idea in the first place.) At least for me, that's what this event is all about: looking ahead toward something wonderful.
“Cocktails”
Cocktail hour—that spot after the ceremony and before dinner which may or may not involve cocktails—has the loosest criteria of all your wedding playlists. You can build any kind of atmosphere you want: elated, chill, whatever. Basically, you’re building a mixtape for however you want to feel after you’ve just gotten married. Maybe you want to pre-game your meal with some Jock Jams, maybe you want something quiet or contemplative.
What We’re Doing: We picked a hodgepodge of songs that invite happy memories for us. Not all of them are “universal” in the way most wedding material should be (the Raincoats’ “Lola” cover) or explicitly about happy subjects (Mutual Benefit’s “Golden Wake”), but they’re warm songs that we enjoy a great deal and should generally be conducive to people milling around while eating cheese and crackers.
Dinner Music
Go for quiet and unobtrusive. You may not even want music at all given how much talking will hopefully be taking place. Think quiet ambient or jazz music.
What We’re Doing: We built a progression of sorts. It’s a mixture of early jazz, old French songs, pleasant instrumentals, old country/bluegrass ballads, soul ballads, instrumental tunes, ultimately culminating in Nico, Lou Reed, Marc Bolan, and Roxy Music. The prompt I gave myself was "moonlit/smells like a record store"—not sure if that makes total sense on paper.
Alternate Recommendation: Just put on Grouper.
First Dance
The first dance is a minefield for clichés, but all that really matters is that you pick a song that means something to both you and your betrothed. Think about the part of your mutual record collection that isn’t quite as universally heralded. Remember memorable shows you’ve attended together. Find a song that’s struck a chord with both of you.
Early on in the planning process, I suggested that our first dance be to “Small Plane” by Bill Callahan—we’d just seen him in Detroit a week or so before. But ultimately, that’s a song that impacted me more than it did Morgan. The song we picked is one that's important for both of us.
What We’re Doing: “Rest of Our Lives” by Dum Dum Girls
Dancin' With Mom or Dad
Talk it over with your families. Maybe there’s a nice slow song that fits. (My cousin Marc tells me Carole King is a pretty sure deal in this scenario.)
What We’re Doing: This isn’t a tradition that we care about—my mom and Morgan’s dad included—so we’re skipping it.
Reception (Dancing)
If you’ve been faced with the task of being your own wedding DJ, you’ve probably already scoured dozens of sample playlists at this point. Awesomely, writers will explain why you shouldn't include "Live Like You Were Dying" or "What's Going On?". They’ll include things like “The Cupid Shuffle”, “The Cha Cha Slide”, “Don’t Stop Believin’", and so on. There’s a reason for this: Those songs are enormous crowd pleasers.
Mark Richardson wrote a Resonant Frequency about this back in 2002 which I very much agree with:
... That's what's key about planning music for a celebration: it should make the guests, as many as possible, want to celebrate. Maybe part of the reason wedding music is associated with cheese is because your average guest likes a certain amount of cheese. And in the end, friends, family and well-wishers celebrating together is so much more important than which individual songs are played. My advice to you, when you're working on that playlist for your wedding day, is to forget what's cool. A wedding is probably not the time to try and turn people on to Cex or !!!, no matter how much you like dancing to them. Consider meeting your guests at least halfway, and maybe, if you're lucky, one of them will be kind enough to show you how to do the Electric Slide.
Mark's right—it’s all about people celebrating and having fun together. In compiling this playlist, I put myself through a two-part litmus test: 1) Is [song] a crowd favorite, and 2) Is it something Morgan and I enjoy? I definitely included exceptions to that rule—obscure soul sides, Classixx, fun tracks that I thought might pair well with the more obvious stuff.
Make sure your crowd pleasers are songs that you actually want to hear. While there are a great many people who will ride for pop hits of the late 1990s and early 2000s, those songs soundtracked our middle school years which, on this of all days, we’d prefer not to recall.
It’s also important to remember that you can’t make everyone happy with every song. An elderly relative may want to hear Benny Goodman, but that might ruin the flow of your playlist. If the floor year for your playlist is 1966, that’s perfectly OK. Conversely, if the only song from the past two years you include is "Happy" or "Get Lucky" or "Blurred Lines", that's fine. As long as Pharrell's in there somewhere, that's all that matters. (I'm only kind of kidding.)
The playlist I've compiled has soul music, oldies, late-70s rock'n'roll, some garage nuggets from the 1960s, and yes, some hits of today. Maybe you want to pay more attention to "cultivating a dancefloor", which would mean throwing in way more hits. I think what I've done with this playlist is split the difference between the dancin' moms and the 20-something snobs—you might want to air more on the side of the former, which would mean more ABBA, Hall & Oates, or Motown.
I keep looking at this playlist and thinking, "Where is the rap music?" I want so badly to shoehorn Rick Ross or 2 Chainz in there somewhere, but it just feels like it'd be lost on the crowd I've invited. If it's right for the room after the old folks take off, by all means, please do include "International Players Anthem" or its spiritual equivalent.
It's OK to include more than one song by the same artist. Narrowing it down to just one Michael Jackson song isn't easy, but it also isn't necessary.
You probably want to pare back the number of insider-y “it came from the internet” indie rock tracks. If you feel 97% confident that you’ll be drunk and jovial enough to hit the dance floor when that song comes on (and maybe, just maybe, create an “Unstoppable”-like movement), put it on there. If there’s a chance that you’ll just burst into tears as soon as it comes on, skip it.
And of course, it goes without saying, but: Pay attention to transitions. Try to make it so your playlist has a flow and logic to it.
Last Song of the Night
Not a requirement, but it’s nice to cool off from the dance portion and let people know that it’s time to get the hell out. The last time I DJ'd a wedding, they ended on "California Stars" by Wilco and Billy Bragg, which is an excellent choice.
What We’re Doing: “Annual Botanical” by the Barbaras, one of the all-time great (and extremely underrated) Memphis garage pop tunes.