Sixty is the birthday people say they'd rather not make a fuss about, and then they're quietly moved when somebody does. By now there's a whole life behind them, and most of it has a song attached. The trick is finding the right ones and handing them back.

Someone born in 1966 also belongs to the generation that learned to make mixtapes. They were teenagers when the Walkman arrived, recording songs off the radio with a finger hovering over the pause button. Giving them a tape of their own life, sixty years later, has a nice symmetry to it.

Their songs fall into four chapters: the year they arrived, the childhood they half remember, the teenage years they remember completely, and the adult life that followed. The best 60th birthday songs aren't the sixty biggest hits. They're a few from each chapter, chosen for the person.

The year they were born: songs from 1966

Few years in pop were as rich as 1966, which makes this the easiest chapter to fill.

"Good Vibrations" and "God Only Knows" by The Beach Boys both came out that year, and either one makes a beautiful opening track. "Paint It Black" by The Rolling Stones, "Reach Out I'll Be There" by the Four Tops and "You Can't Hurry Love" by The Supremes were on the radio while they were still in the crib. For something tender, there's "When a Man Loves a Woman" by Percy Sledge or "Sunny" by Bobby Hebb. If their parents liked a bit of attitude, "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'" by Nancy Sinatra belongs here too.

They didn't hear these songs the first time around, but they grew up with them on the kitchen radio and in their parents' record collection. Starting a 60th birthday playlist in 1966 is a small way of saying the story begins at the beginning.

Childhood: the seventies on the car radio

Between five and eleven, music is something other people choose. It gets in anyway. "Let's Stay Together" by Al Green and "Superstition" by Stevie Wonder from the early part of the decade. "Crocodile Rock" by Elton John, which children loved long before they knew who Elton John was. "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen, everywhere the winter it came out. And then "Dancing Queen" by ABBA and "Stayin' Alive" by the Bee Gees, maybe the first songs that felt like theirs.

One or two from here is plenty. These are the songs that make a sixty-year-old laugh, say they hadn't thought of that one in years, and then sing every word.

The teenage years: 1979 to 1984

This is the chapter that matters most. The songs people hear between thirteen and eighteen tend to stay with them for life, and someone born in 1966 came of age just as the eighties took over.

"Heart of Glass" by Blondie and "Video Killed the Radio Star" by The Buggles opened it. Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" and Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust" played at every school dance. Then came "Tainted Love" by Soft Cell, "Don't You Want Me" by The Human League and "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey, depending on who they spent their weekends with. "Billie Jean", "Every Breath You Take" by The Police, "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)" by Eurythmics and "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper made 1983 a year many of them still know by heart. "When Doves Cry" by Prince and "Jump" by Van Halen closed out their last year of school, and "Don't You (Forget About Me)" by Simple Minds arrived the year after, just in time for the goodbyes.

If you only have room for a handful of songs, take most of them from here. These are also the songs they're most likely to have recorded onto a blank tape themselves.

Their twenties and after

By now the songs are tied to real events: a first job, a first apartment, a wedding, a baby. "With or Without You" by U2 and "Sweet Child O' Mine" by Guns N' Roses belong to their early twenties. "Like a Prayer" by Madonna and "Nothing Compares 2 U" by Sinéad O'Connor came at the turn of the decade. "(Everything I Do) I Do It for You" by Bryan Adams and "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston were played at half the weddings they went to in the early nineties, possibly their own.

Later, the music started coming from other rooms in the house. "Smells Like Teen Spirit", "Wonderwall", "...Baby One More Time": the songs their kids played too loud, which somehow became part of their story as well. One of those, chosen with a smile, can turn out to be the most touching track on the whole tape.

For the last twenty years, choose by memory, not by chart. A song from a trip you took together or a night you both remember says more than three that were simply popular.

How to turn the list into a gift

A playlist of a hundred songs is background. A mixtape of twenty is a message. A CD holds about eighty minutes, which is close to twenty songs, and that limit helps: it makes you keep only the ones that are really about them.

Take two or three from 1966, two from childhood, seven or eight from the teenage years and the rest from adult life. Then put them in the order they were lived, so the disc plays like a short biography. There is more on how to pick the right song order for a mixtape gift if you want the sequence to carry some weight, and a full guide on how to make a birthday mixtape someone will keep forever.

For someone who still has a tape deck in the garage, a cassette closes the circle. For everyone else, a CD plays in any car or kitchen stereo. And if the birthday is for someone younger, there are matching lists of the best songs for a 50th birthday and the best songs for a 40th birthday.

Sixty years of music won't fit on one disc, but the twenty songs that matter most will. When you're ready, start creating your own mixtape.