18 May 2006
Don't wanna be all by myself
They used to say (you remember Them, don't you?) that you could always tell the musical highbrow in the crowd: he was the one that heard Rossini's overture to William Tell and didn't think first of the Lone Ranger.
It may be time to modify this slightly:
I used to be a huge fan of Barry Manilow and even now I still don't hate his songs. There's really just one problem with Manilow: Chopin's Prelude in C Minor. Every time I hear it I still hear "Could It Be Magic?" I don't have that problem with anything else. I no longer think of the Lone Ranger when I listen to the William Tell Overture; I can hear Liszt without thinking of Bugs Bunny; I can even listen to the Dance of the Hours without picturing dancing hippos or singing "Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda." (Well, most of the time.) But when I listen to the Prelude in C Minor, one of Chopin's loveliest works, it's just about impossible for me to hear only Chopin.
For me it's Rachmaninoff and Eric Carmen. I suspect there are plenty of other folks in similar straits.Posted at 11:00 AM to Tongue and Groove