Juozas Rimas found a certain Glenn Dicterow's musical tastes:

>...strange... [since JR admits he doesn't] understand how anyone who has
>listened to classical music and liked it can ever LOVE soft rock.

I've been re-listening to the Doors' 1st album, admiringly -- and not just
for the Kurt Weill or the Wm Blake.  Also, I've been endlessly replaying in
my mind Brian Jones's spectacular harmonica solo on "One More Try." Dusty
Springfield's dry, closely-miked singing in "The Look of Love" has always
been for me extremely moving.

The critic who faulted her for being (inadvertently) "flat" on that song
has nothing but my sympathy:  poor guy, just deaf to her sexy indolence.
The loss also pertains to those who lack the ears for the virtuosic
ritardando Jones contributes to that 'Stones song.  It ain't Martinu, no;
but comparing the two would be rather silly, _both_ ways.  And, lastly, was
it a _fall_ for Weill to go from his VC to 'Alabama Song (Whisky Bar)'?

I don't think so.  There's nothing incongruous about a music lover finding
a nifty samba joyful, or feeling transported by the Allman Brothers, John
Coltrane or Artie Shaw ...or Szerying's Bach Sonatas and Partitas, for that
matter.  But there _is_ something bizarre about presumably 'rising' to the
level of CM appreciation only to find oneself then cut off from such
experiences, as you seem to suggest here:

>The content, emotion, complexity of classical music leave pop absolutely
>bland.

Not at all.  I've come to love bananas flambe in my maturity, with the
right liquor and just enough heavy cream, yet have not lost my weakness
for freshly-made strawberry ice cream.

In fact, as long as someone's tapping a toe or transported musically
while I'm not, surely the loss is mine.  Mind you, this does happen:
with accordion polkas, almost always.  Even so...

Bert Bailey