Cleverly put together elevator music for white boys who can’t dance to hum along to while patting their knees out of time like clockwork monkeys with a tiny pair of cymbals.
I couldn’t give a fuck how talented Miles was, the entire thing just makes me fucking nauseous. Like diarrhoea for the ears.
Cue wails from ‘music aficionados’ proclaiming that you have to like it “because because…” Just jog on you lonely autistic helmets.
I’ve never got on with any of the Five, the Russian composers of the mid to late 19th century. About the only composition of theirs I like is Rimsky-Korsakov’s Scheherazade. Borodin especially can get to fuck.
Eagles ‘Hotel California’ - makes me shudder at the mere thought of how deeply square and uncool this self important cack really is.
Cumbersome hammy lyrics over the top of some masturbatory musicianship. The sort of thing my dad would turn the volume up if we were in the car and tap the steering wheel to…