The playlist, “Market Basket Classics,” is on Spotify, where it has a robust 25 hours worth of songs, an admittedly modest 366 followers, and a loving description that reads “one-hit wonders” and “clunky 80’s hits.”

Behind the music is a former bagger with two dreams: To make a playlist so good that it triggers nostalgia no matter when you were born, and that it’s endorsed by no less a musical icon than Market Basket itself.

“If the playlist led to recognition from the corporate team … ” Hoyt said, both giddy at the prospect, but also afraid of sounding presumptuous, since his current affiliation with Market Basket is limited to being an extremely enthusiastic customer. “I know my time working there was a drop in the bucket.”

Wait — Market Basket has a musical genre? And it’s somehow special? Apparently.

To much of the world, the Tewksbury-based chain is known for its cult status; its “more for your dollar” motto; its Italian subs and store-brand soda; and the family feud and ensuing employee strike and customer revolt that threatened to tear the chain apart.

But, incredibly, it’s also beloved for the soundtrack played in its 90 stores. Several customers told me they literally dance in the aisles. Shamus Russell, an Arthur Murray ballroom dance instructor, listens to Market Basket music as he drives to shop at Market Basket — his walk-on song, if you will.

In Hoyt’s day, when a particularly Market Basket-ish song came over the system, employees in the stock room would burst into karaoke. A running joke involved the satisfaction in hearing a song in low rotation. “You’d collect them,” Hoyt said, “almost like Pokemon cards.”

But what is Market Basket music, anyway? Let’s just say there are three ways it can be described.

The first is to simply list even just a few of its most on-brand songs: “Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl).” “Smoke from a Distant Fire.” “Do You Believe in Love?” “Sussudio.”

Another is by insult: “It’s a collection of songs that you would never pick to listen to,” said Hoyt (yes, the man compiling the playlist), “but once it’s on, you sing along.”

The third is by reminiscence. This definition comes courtesy of a customer named Johanna Jalbert (home store: the Plymouth Market Basket): “I was born in 1961,” Jalbert began, “and it’s every song you wanted that boy to ask you to dance to and he did and you’re in the produce section, and you’re singing ’Your kiss is on my list …’ as you reach for an orange.”

Market Basket employee Jamie Cunneen speaks with Bob Hoyt, a former Market Basket employee with a Market Basket Classics playlist on Spotify.Jonathan Wiggs/Globe Staff

Hoyt, who has an earnest demeanor that would not be out of place on the gentle HBO series “Somebody Somewhere,” which is set in Kansas, started bagging and running carts at Market Basket when he was a freshman at Masconomet Regional High School (class of 2005).

Over two stints, interrupted by college at UMass Dartmouth, where he majored in business marketing and minored in philosophy, he eventually rose to the “ends” department, which meant that he was responsible for the end-of-aisle displays. It also meant that he could be super social.

“I was buzzing around the whole store,” he recalled with true joy. “If you are in meat, you only know people in meat. If you’re in dairy, you only know dairy. I was like a mayor.”

Then there was the music. Some artists are famously inspired by a childhood trip to Broadway. For teenage Bob Hoyt, it was the ceiling speakers of a supermarket, and he remains so bewitched that even he describes it as “kind of weird.”

Alas, in 2011, Hoyt moved on from Market Basket. But hanging out with pals a couple of years later, the talk turned to first jobs, and, inevitably, to music at Market Basket. Specifically: “How bad it was, and at the same time, how good it was,” Hoyt said.

From there it only made sense to create a “Market Basket Classics” playlist. “How Much I Feel,” by Ambrosia, was the inaugural song. The other buddies eventually moved on, but not Hoyt. Why, just last week, he added “Stand Back” by Stevie Nicks.

And now the playlist has grown to 363 songs, and here he was on a Monday afternoon, with a reporter, at the very Market Basket that inspired him.

Bob Hoyt checks out at the Danvers Market Basket, his "emotional support" store. Jonathan Wiggs/Globe Staff

To shop the Danvers Market Basket with Hoyt is to take the field with Tom Brady, to tour the Met with Philippe de Montebello, to enjoy Rome through the eyes of Rick Steves.

“I’ll just grab a lemon here,” Hoyt said, swooping down to pluck one from what seemed to be a secret basket of lemons that was nowhere near the produce section.

The next moment he was nodding with approval as a total Market Basket classic — “I Ran (So Far Away),” by A Flock of Seagulls — rocked the aisles.

But then a dark thought intruded on his mood. “Are other people going to be in this story?” he asked.

Other people? Like who? I thought at first. But, surprising as it may be, there are other Market Basket playlists on Spotify. In a stroke of luck for Hoyt, the competitor DJs either didn’t respond to a reporter’s outreach or couldn’t be found. But that did leave one rival playlist.

Market Basket itself. It was born of an April Fool’s joke in 2022, when the store announced an “MB Store Songs CD” on Instagram. The CD wasn’t real, but the response was, and the store decided to release a playlist on Spotify that was called “MB Store Songs CD,” and has led to other official playlists.

Many people are so entranced by the Market Basket’s soundtrack that they wonder if there’s a musical genius at work — the world’s best bar mitzvah DJ, now working in aisle five.

When I put the question to Market Basket, albeit not quite in those terms, here is what I learned: “Market Basket works with an outside vendor on the music that is played in the stores. So they provide feedback to the vendor (called Mood Music), which then refines the playlist.”

I quickly navigated to the firm’s website, clicked on the “industries” tab, and scrolled down to “grocery.”

What I found there felt far from Hoyt’s dream. “Increase basket size and dwell time with fully-licensed, commercial-free music that is unique to your brand,” the pitch for its services read.

I thought such obvious monetization would upset Hoyt, but I was wrong. Not only had he been wondering who was behind the curtain, but he sensed an opportunity. “I didn’t realize that was a job,” he said. “I’m going to look into it.”

Beth Teitell can be reached at beth.teitell@globe.com. Follow her @bethteitell.