Hey, Simps

I send you something gorgeous and profound, and you counter with ethnic elevator music.
Steve Simels

If I weren't sick I'd go look for a list of your A-listers, like Mick and his old Stones, who would join your list of heroes from the past who, either themselves or their heirs licensed their music for a treatment "scientifically" planned to profitably appear in a supermarket c. 1974 or so or in similar contexts.  But I'm sick so you're going to have to groove to your favorite Mop Heads mopping up the money with this.

There, you must have found that gorgeous enough.

I do have to say that if you want to prove a. you have no ability to listen to music of any complexity or subtlety, b. are a low-grade ethnic chauvinist, c. are a pop-muzak putz, I'm powerless to do anything but allow you to do so.  I'll go into detail if you insist.  You won't enjoy it.

Update:  I make it a practice to never listen to individual movements of a work unless I know the composer approved of that kind of performance.  I have no idea if C.N. approved of it or not so I'd have to listen to the whole symphony to hear it and I don't want to.

Your grasp of logical thought is as loose as your grasp of any but the most facile music but not as loose as your grasp of a difference between a lie you like and a truth, especially a lie you'd like to be true but which isn't.  A truth you hate goes past your mendacious mind. 

Update 2;  Well, Simps, there's one thing you can be certain of, the mop heads didn't let someone else record their stuff unless they got paid for it, one way or another.  If I had a dollar for every really crappy "beautiful music" arrangement of mop head music I've been subjected to involuntarily, I'd be more than able to buy that counterpoint book by the Balkan guy whose music you can't deal with.

Update 3:  As the Simpering gets longer, it grows wronger.

You do know that Rodrigo is the most financially successful classical composer of the 2oth century, right?

Simple Simels

Hey, if I ever post a piece by Rodrigo, I assume you mean Joaquín Rodrigo, that might be relevant.  As I never have, never expect to and can't recall ever even owning a recording of one of his pieces, you may as well have chosen any other irrelevant bit of trivia from your bag of trivial trivia.   I don't even own Sketches of Spain, my brother did and it was more Rodrigo than I cared to hear.  He never produced a piece of music I'm aware of as good as Granados' Tonadillas, a number of which I accompanied when I was young.   Or is this just another ethic group you feel comfortable ridiculing among the kewl kids?

Update 4:  Stupy always gets to the point where he accuses me of feeling superior to people whose work isn't my preferred music.  I went through how his kind of childish thinking would be based on an assumption that a matter of preference is the same thing as a judgement of quality.   That is something that is typical of people who dabble in the arts on the most superficial level, who scribble crap that is honored with the label, "criticism" who figure that their preference is all there is to it.  You can read what I wrote on that the Sunday.   It's especially funny coming from Stupy who made a living scribbling his opinion about music, what he liked, what he didn't like for the intellectual equivalent of an ad flyer.  If I wanted to risk the damage reading much of his scribblage would do to someone's mind I'd go through his crap to find out who he's dissed over the years.   I can tell you from what he's posted and tried to post at my blogs, he's definitely got a thing against any composer who departs from the tied if not trite and true.   Most of the people I've known like that don't really listen to music, they use it as background, wall paper in the home, a back drop to themselves, in public, something to get paid for writing about, sometimes.  None of it matters.

Update 5:  You hate thought, you hate anything that requires you to exert concentration, you hate anything that you figure won't get you the kind of attention you crave.  You are the Zaphod Beeblebrox of pop-music blogging.  You've even got more than one head, well, they're sock puppets, all of them childish, attention seeking, superficial and dishonest.