I never listened to music at night, when he often jammed to his jazz. When I noticed Kevin was listening to the account at a time I didn't really need it, I let him have it. Nothing they tried worked.Įventually, I realized Kevin had won. People had tried changing passwords, disconnecting and resetting accounts, enabling two-factor authorization. There were multiple posts on Spotify's community forum detailing this very problem, all positing solutions of varying success with no explicit fix. I later realized I was not the only person with this problem. No matter what I did, Kevin was there, punking me with the dulcet tones of a muted trumpet. I even had Spotify customer service reset it. I revoked access from all apps connected to my account.
I dug into my devices menu and disconnected from all of them. I did everything I could think of to make it stop. I'd assumed it was someone in my apartment building whose account somehow got entangled with mine, or a random dude in North Dakota who had no idea what he was doing. It felt like Kevin was the one person I could never escape. And it kept happening, and happening, and happening. But as a customer of Spotify Premium, it was more annoying than anything to be paying for something that failed to work. It felt like Kevin was the one person I could never escape, an irritating grade school bully whose sole purpose in life was to hit pause on my Spotify as soon as I hit play.Īt first, sure, it was a subtle annoyance. As I soared 30,000 feet over the Pacific Ocean, with no access to Wi-Fi.
While I was driving down the coast of California without cell reception. When I was walking the streets of Manhattan. Some dude named Kevin kept hopping into my account and hijacking it. Nor do I frequent the music of Miles Davis (I mean I like it, but I do not care to listen while I am contorting my body like a Tetris figure to fit in a crowded New York City subway car). Every so often, while I'm listening to music on the app, it'll stop abruptly and I'll get a message that has become the bane of my existence: Now Playing on Kevin's Echo. I know all of this because Kevin and I have been linked at the hip (digitally) for years, all through a connected Spotify account. Amazon may be building a new brain for Alexa
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