Fast Eddie on Effective Symphonic Programming in a Tough Economy

The following is an excerpt from an interview with renowned critic-scholar Fast Eddie at an undisclosed location.

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[Empiricus] Some say the symphonic organizations are being hit very hard by this econom...

[Fast Eddie] Yeah, yeah. The economy this and the economy that, profit margins, season ticket subscriptions, local business donations, dwindling audiences, dying patrons, and on and on...

You knows what? I got your problems fixed, sure as folded pizza. If ya listen to what I gotta say, you’ll make all the moolah you can eat. Ready?

First, that’ll be five bucks. [At this point Empiricus asks for change for a twenty-dollar bill. Fast Eddie waives his fee]

Okay. Bottom line, what cha gotta do is this—really simple: Ya gotta have fait[h] that the customer is always right. Don’t try to be smart—that’s for those Ivy League know-it-alls who’ve got nothin betta t’do than analyze stuff all day. If ya simply give ‘em what they ask for, and not what you think they might want, then you’re on your way to cabbage heaven. Stick to whacha know’ll work, the warhorses. Your 70-somethin customers’ll love ya. Just don’t surprise ‘em; the more surprisin you are, the worse odds you’re getting on your dough.

One catch: Ya gotta lower your overhead, see. Instead of a 100 person orchestra, how ‘bout a 50 person orchestra? Presto! That way you don’t have to give ‘em the world, just what you can afford. The suckers’ll lap it up. Sure, they’ll miss the Mahler, the Berlioz, the Strauss, for a while. But they’ll still love ya for the Mozart and ya don’t have to lower the prices, see.

[Empiricus] But there’ll be those who say that Mahler is a core part of the repertoire. Can we really set it aside, like you propose?

[Fast Eddie] Listen, this economy bull-puckey is just a self-correction. Got it? We were livin beyond our means. That goes for symphonies, too. I mean, look at the whole shebang: three-thousand seats, statues, gold railings, thirty ushers, guest solists, commissions, what have ya. And all for a puny two hours of 50 string players waiving horse hair across cat gut? Holy friggin cannoli, ya got 180 people on the payroll, right. How much does that cost? Way too much. Ya just can’t keep it goin. That’s like Imelda Marcos and shoes. If ya cut half the shoes out of the picture, bingo, you make more than you spend!

[Empiricus] I see. Has anyone taken your advice, Mr. Eddie?

[Fast Eddie] Glad you asked. The Fort Worth Symphony Orchestra recently purchased my patented advice; they even got a 20 percent discount, being they’re the first and all—I need t’get my brand out there, see.

Bang, they were going about their plan, throwing greenbacks at three Mahler Symphonies per season, right. Well, they took my award-winning wisdom and now they’re playin a bunch of Beethoven instead. Win-win, badda-bing.

They even got Scott Cantrell to hype it up as if nothin strange was happenin.

Instead of the planned performances of Mahler's Third, Fourth and Eighth symphonies, the FWSO will offer the ultimate in core repertory: Beethoven.

“Ultimate”: now that’s a winnin salesman!

The FWSO didn’t change the concert’s title, too.

The "Great Performances Festival," Aug. 28-30, will include Beethoven's Third, Fifth and Sixth symphonies, the first two piano concertos and the Violin Concerto.

They’re gonna play the safest—and most profitable—music in the encyclopedia.

Beethoven's Ninth Symphony will be performed during the FWSO's 2009-10 symphonic series...

But most strategic of all, they’re listenin to the suckers.

Most other programs include at least one work chosen by patrons in an audience survey.

Sure, they got some work to do still.

[Another] program will include the world premiere of a work by Peruvian composer Jimmy López. Jennifer Higdon, the orchestra's 2009-10 composer-in-residence, will be represented by four works on two different programs.

Guest conductors will be baroque-music specialist Nicholas McGegan, for music of Vivaldi, Haydn and Mozart; Giancarlo Guerrero, music director of the Nashville Symphony; and Mei-Ann Chen, assistant conductor of the Atlanta Symphony.

Soloists will include pianist Horacio Gutiérrez and violinists Midori, Sarah Chang and Jennifer Koh.

But there’s still time to cut more spending.
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Between the Lines, Some Useless Information

In Monday’s Living Here (?) section of the Sacramento Bee, I was asked a question of the highest philosophical order, a question of such depth that the great Lando Calrissian (respectable administrator of Cloud City) couldn’t answer it, let alone comprehend.

Can you name any of Mozart's worthy peers?

What's that? Can I name any of Mozart’s worthy peers, you say? Well, yes. Yes, I can. There’s...

Johann Gottlieb Graun (1702–1771)
Johann Ernst Eberlin (1702–1762)
Gioseffo Hectore Fiocco (1703–1741)
Georg Andreas Sorge (1703–1778)
Karl Heinrich Graun (1704–1759)
Jose Antonio Carlos de Seixas (1704–1742)
Frantisek Antonin Ignac Tuma (1704–1774)
Nicholas Chédeville (1705–1782)
Giovanni Gualberto Brunetti (1706–1787)
Giovanni Battista Martini (1706–1784)
Baldassare Galuppi (1706–1785)
Pietro Domenico Paradisi|Paradies (1707–1791)
Michel Corrette (1707–1795)
Georg Czarth (1708–1774)
Pasquale Cafaro (1708–1787)
Egidio Romualdo Duni (1708–1775)
Johann Adolf Scheibe (1708–1776)
Johann Gottlieb Janitsch (1708–1763)
Christoph Schaffrath (1709–1763)
Paolo Salulini (1709–1780)
Charles Avison (1709–1770)
Franz (Frantisek) Benda (1709–1786)
Franz Xaver Richter (1709–1789)
Jean-Noel Hamal (1709–1778)
Domenico Alberti (1710–1746)
Giovanni Battista Pergolesi (1710–1736)
Thomas Augustine Arne (1710–1778)
Joseph Marie Clément Abaco|dall’Abaco (1710–1805)
Wilhelm Friedemann Bach (1710–1784)
Domènec Terradellas (1711–1751)
William Boyce (1711–1779)
Ignaz Holzbauer (1711–1783)
Jean-Joseph Cassanea de Mondonville (1711–1772)
John Hebden (1712–1765)
Sayat Nova (1712–1795)
John Stanley (1712–1786)
Friedrich II der Grosse (the Great) (1712–1786)
Jan Benda (1713–1752)
Johann Ludwig Krebs (1713–1780)
Pedro António Avondano (1714–1782)
Gottfried August Homilius (1714–1785)
Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714–1788)
Christoph Willibald von Gluck (1714–1787)
Nicoló Jommelli (1714–1774)
Jacques Duphly (1715–1789)
Georg Christoph Wagenseil (1715–1777)
James Nares (1715–1783)
Girolamo Abos (1715–1760)
Mathias Georg Monn|Man (1717–1750)
Jan Václav (Johann) Stamitz|Stamic (1717–1757)
Jean-Baptiste Quentin (1718–1750)
Leopold August Abel (1718–1794)
Ferdinand Zellbell (der Jüngere) (1719–1780)
Leopold Mozart (1719–1787)
Domenico Porretti (1720–1783)
Johan Nicolaas Lentz (1720–1782)
Johann Schobert (1720–1767)
Posh Spice (1720-1767)
Wolf Blitzer (1720-1788)
Just Checking to See If (1720-1769)
If You’re Still Reading (1720-1800)
Johann Friedrich Agricola (1720–1774)
Maria Teresa Agnesi Pinottini (1720–1795)
Carlo Antonio Campioni (1720–1788)
Pieter Hellendaal (1721–1799)
Johann Philipp Kirnberger (1721–1783)
Johann Ernst Bach (1722–1777)
Pietro Nardini (1722–1793)
Nardini Is My Favorite Name (1722-1788)
Schobert is My Second Favorite (1722-1777)
Jiři Antonin Benda (1722–1795)
Christian Ernst Graaf|Graf (1723–1804)
Anna Amalia von Preußen (1723–1787)
Karl Friedrich Abel (1723–1787)
Maria Antonia Walpurga|Walpurgis (1724–1780)
Ignaz (Ignace) Vitzthumb (1724–1816)
Giovanni Battista Cirri (1724–1808)
Gioseffo Ferdinando Bertoni (1725–1813)
François-André Philidor (1725–1795)
Johann George Tromlitz (1725–1805)
Charles Burney (1726–1814)
Henri Hardouin (1727–1808)
Johann Wilhelm Hertel (1727–1789)
Claude-Benigne Balbastre (1727–1799)
Armand-Louis Couperin (1727–1789)
Johann Gottlieb Goldberg (1727–1756)
Tommaso Traetta (1727–1779)
Pasquale Anfossi (1727–1797)
Nicoló Piccinni (1728–1800)
Johann Gottfried Müthel (1728–1788)
Franz Xaver Pokorny (1728–1794)
Johann Adam Hiller (1728–1804)
And Now a Wonderfully Musical Name (1728-1791)
Pellegrino Tomeoni (1729–1816)
Florian Leopold Gaßmann (1729–1774)
Anton Cajetan Adlgasser (1729–1777)
Pieter van Maldere (1729–1768)
Pierre-Alexandre Monsigny (1729–1817)
Giuseppe Sarti (1729–1802)
Padre Antonio Soler (1729–1783)
And Now a Not So Musical Name (1729-1789)
Leontzi Honauer (1730–1790)
Antonio Maria Gaspare Sacchini (1730–1786)
Capel Bond (1730–1790)
For All Your Bail Bond Needs (1731-1797)
Gaetano Pugnani (1731–1798)
Frantisek Xaver Dušek (1731–1799)
(Johann) Christian Cannabich (1731–1798)
Johann Christian Kittel (1732–1809)
František (Franz) Xaver Brixi (1732–1771)
Franz Joseph Haydn (1732–1809)
Johann Christoph Friedrich Bach (1732–1795)
Thomas Linley (the elder) (1733–1795)
Anton Filtz|Fils|Filts (1733–1760)
Benjamin Cooke (1734–1793)
Luka Sorkočević (1734–1789)
François-Joseph Gossec (1734–1829)
Franz Ignaz Beck (1734–1809)
Johann Ernst Altenburg (1734–1801)
Giovanni Mane Giornovichi|Ivan Jarnovick (1735–1804)
Johann Gottfried Eckard (1735–1809)
Johann Christian Bach (1735–1782)
Johann Georg Albrechtsberger (1736–1809)
Carl Friedrich Christian Fasch (1736–1800)
Jean-François Tapray (1737–1819)
Josef Myslivecek (1737–1781)
Michael Haydn (1737–1806)
Constantin Reindl (1738–1799)
Leopold Hofmann (1738–1793)
Jan Evangelista Antonin Kozeluh (1738–1814)
Johann Baptist Vanhal (1739–1813)
Friedrich Wilhelm Rust (1739–1796)
Karl Ditters von Dittersdorf (1739–1799)
Giovanni Paisiello (1740–1816)
Henri-Joseph Riegel|Rigel (1741–1799)
André-Ernest-Modeste Grétry (1741–1813)
Johann André (1741–1799)
Johann Gottlieb Naumann (1741–1801)
Vaclav (Wenzel) Pichl (1741–1805)
Jerónimo Francisco Lima (1741–1822)
Anton Zimmermann (1741–1781)
(father) Roman(us) Hoffstetter|Hofstetter (1742–1815)
Luigi Boccherini (1743–1805)
Francesco Petrini (1744–1819)
There’s a Lot of Names (1744-1823)
I Know (1744-1801)
But I Don’t Want You To Miss Any (1744-1818)
Because They All Wrote Good Music (1744-1798)
João Pedro de Almeida Mota (1744–1817)
But Really I Bet Mr. Ortiz’s Question (1744-1210)
Is Only Hypophora (1744-1789)
A Stupid Rhetorical Device (1744-1806)
That Gets Things Moving (1744-1801)
By Asking a Question (1744-1779)
Either Way It’s (1744-1790)
Pretty Lame If You Ask Me (1744-1822)
Marianne Anna Martinez (1744–1812)
Besides What Possible Relevance Could (1745-1830)
This Have In Any Discussion (1745-1811)
Concerning a New Disc Of A (1745-1823)
Lesser Known Composer (1745-1808)
That’s What the Review’s About (1745-1789)
By the Way (1745-1803)
Georg (Jiři) Druschetzky|Druzecky (1745–1819)
Jan Václav Knéžek (1745–1806)
João de Sousa Carvalho (1745–1798)
Johann Baptist Krumpholz (1745–1790)
Carl Stamitz (1745–1801)
Giuseppe Giordani (1745–1798)
Joseph Boulogne, Chevalier de Saint-Georges (1745–1799)
Ivan Evstaf’evich Khandoshkin (1746–1804)
James Hook (1746–1827)
Argh! Shiver Me Timbers and Such (1746-1821)
William Billings (1746–1800)
(Louis) Joseph (Marie) Quesnel (1746–1809)
Johann Wilhelm Hässler (1747–1822)
Johann Abraham Peter Schulz (1747–1800)
Leopold Kozeluh (1747–1818)
Theodor Freiherr von Schacht (1748–1823)
Christian Gottlob Neefe (1748–1798)
Francesco Azopardi (1748–1809)
Jean-Frédéric (Johan-Fredreric) Edelmann (1749–1794)
Domenico Cimarosa (1749–1801)
Antonio Rosetti|Rossetti|Rősler|Rössler|Rosety (1750–1792)
Names Used Under the Witness Protection Program (1750-1820)
Jean-Balthasar Tricklir (1750–1813)
Daniel Gottlob Türk (1750–1813)
Antonio Salieri (1750–1825)
Why Does It Seem Like (1750-1831)
Every Time Salieri Is Mentioned (1750-1811)
It’s Always In Reference To (1750-1795)
That Movie About Mozart? (1750-1808)
Hasn’t Anyone Ever Heard His Music (1750-1749)
It’s Quite Good (1750-1820)
Johann Franz Xaver Sterkel (1750–1817)
Dmitri Stepanovich Bortniansky (1752–1825)
José Maurício (1752–1815)
Muzio Clementi (1752–1832)
Nicola Antonio Zingarelli (1752–1837)
Ludwig August Lebrun (1752–1790)
Justin Heinrich Knecht|Knechtl (1752–1817)
Johann Friedrich Reichardt (1752–1814)
Pedro Étienne Solère (1753–1817)
Nicolas-Marie Dalayrac (1753–1809)
Jean-Baptiste Bréval (1753–1823)
Johann Baptist Schenk (1753–1836)
Michel Yost (1754–1786)
Vicente Martín y Soler (1754–1806)
Franz Anton Hoffmeister (1754–1812)
Mateo Pérez de Albéniz (1755–1831)
Giovanni Battista Viotti (1755–1824)
Federigo Fiorillo (1755–1823)
Antonio Capuzzi (1755–1818)
I Know Him (1755-1812)
He Owns a Pizzeria (1755-1810)
In Queens and Has Been Known (1755-1829)
To Associate With a Certain (1755-1804)
Fast Eddie (1755-1817)
Christian Kalkbrenner (1755–1806)
Johann Christoph Vogel (1756–1788)
Thomas Linley (the younger) (1756–1778)
Joseph Martin Kraus (1756–1792)
Pavel (Paul) Vranický|Wranitzky (1756–1808)
Alessandro Rolla (1757–1841)
Ignaz Josef Pleyel (1757–1831)
António Leal Moreira (1758–1819)
Karl Friedrich Zelter (1758–1832)
François Devienne (1759–1803)
Jacques(-Christian-Michel) Widerkehr (1759–1823)
Franz Vinzenz Krommer|Křamer (1759–1831)
Franz Christoph Neubauer (1760–1795)
Nicolas Rozé (1760–1823)
For A Good Time Call Joshua Kosman (510-555-5555)
Johann Rudolf Zumsteeg (1760–1802)
Jan Ladislav Dušek|Dussek|Dusík (1760–1812)
Jean-François Le Sueur|Lesueur (1760–1837)
Luigi Cherubini (1760–1842)
Evstigney Ipatovich Fomin (1761–1800)
Johann Christian Ludwig Abeille (1761–1838)
Antonín (Anton) Vranický|Wranitzky (1761–1820)
Feliks Janiewicz (1762–1848)
Marcos Antonio Portugal (1762–1830)
Franz Wilhelm Tausch (1762–1817)
Adalbert (Vojtech) Gyrowetz|Jirovec (1763–1850)
Franz Danzi (1763–1826)
Étienne-Nicolas Méhul (1763–1817)
Anton Eberl (1765–1807)
Jan Jakub Ryba (1765–1815)
John Addison (1766–1844)
Samuel Wesley (1766–1837)
Rodolphe Kreutzer (1766–1831)
Seriously Though ((1766-1812)
This Opening Question Begs Another (1766-1820)
How Many Composers Can Edward Name? (1767-1819)
If He Can't Come Up With (1767-1831)
Joseph Haydn You Know (1767-1840)
Off the Top of His Head (1767-1822)
In Like Two Seconds...? (1767-1841)
José Maurício Nunes Garcia (1767–1830)
I Mean I Could Have Named (1767-1855)
A Couple Dozen of These Guys (1767-1841)
But Then Again, I'm Supposed to (1767-1810)
Know More Than the Average Person Right? (1767-1847)
Andreas Jakob Romberg (1767–1821)
Christian Friedrich Gottlieb Schwencke (1767–1822)
Bernhard Heinrich Romberg (1767–1841)
Johann Georg Heinrich Back(h)ofen (1768–1839)
Carolus Antonius (Antoine) Fodor (1768–1846)
Louis-Emmanuel Jadin (1768–1853)
(Jean Baptiste) Edouard Du Puy (1770–1822)
João José Baldi (1770–1816)
Ferdinando Carulli (1770–1841)
Johann Christian Heinrich Rinck (1770–1846)
Anton Reicha (1770–1836)
Max Keller (1770–1855)
Friedrich Witt (1770–1836)
Peter Hansel (1770–1831)
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827)

...to name a few.

So, those were some of Mozart’s near-contemporaries and worthy peers. Pray tell, then, why would you like to know, Mr. Ortiz, sir?

For most, the only name that comes to mind is composer Antonio Salieri.

Aw shit. I knew it.

And this is only because of Salieri's appearance as a major character in the Oscar-winning film "Amadeus."

I wish that movie was never made.

Um, Haydn, perhaps? No. He’s not a composer that comes to mind as a worthy peer of Mozart’s? To you, Ed, maybe.

But talent was not scarce in Mozart's time.

You think? Good work.
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Fast Eddie Reappears!

Fast Eddie owns the now-accredited School of Music Criticism somewhere in Queens, where he has been able to shape the minds of those who shape ours about classical music. I recently had a chance to sit down with the famed and elusive grammarian for a brief interview. We discussed one former student in particular.

Empiricus: Thanks for taking the time to talk to the Detritus Review, Eddie.

Fast Eddie: Yeah. Make it quick. I don’t like stayin put for too long. Know what I’m sayin?

E: One of your former students, who now writes for the Seattle Times, wrote this on Friday:

Nothing can shiver the timbers of Benaroya Hall quite like the “Organ Symphony” of Saint-Saens, who combined the “king of instruments” with full orchestra to thrilling effect.

FE: Now that’s got pizzazz! It sets the tone right away, see—shiver the timbers, king of instruments, thrilling effect? Just vague enough, yet excitin enough to keep ya interested.

E: I see.

FE: Ya gots t’understand. When ya got a deadline, ya gotta get it out quick, see? Ya gotta leave something out, then give it to em, right away. Fills in the words quick, and doesn’t make a point. Now, I haven’t read this review of which you speaked, but I’ll bet the favorite that the next sentence goes somethin like this: This performance was thrilling, cause the performers played this piece. Am I right? Or am I right?

E: Pretty close. In fact this is what was written:

Thrilling, at least, when the performance is as satisfying as was the Seattle Symphony’s on Thursday evening, with guest maestro Jun Markl rushing about on the podium.

FE: Can I teach good or what? There’s even some extra bang in there—satisfying, maestro (gotta keep the upper-class thing going, see? Gotta make it sound expensive and luxuriant.)—and rushin about. That’s damn catchy, a splendid counterpoint, if I may gratitude myself.

E: You mentioned that the idea is to fill in the words without making a point?

FE: Yeah. Ya got better things ta do than write a review, right? I always say, “just type until ya finish fillin the space.” Now, if this review’s worth its salt, it it’ll go on about the conductor, kind of stream-of-conscious-like.

E: Again, sir, you’re right.

The 48-year-old German-born conductor has always made a good impression in his visits to Seattle, and the current program is no exception; his crisp energy, spot-on cueing and precise baton drew an unusually pointed performance from the orchestra.

To me this one sounds a little more compact, with the semi-colon.

FE: Well we can’t all be perfect, see. But it’s still good. If ya break it down, ya still got nothin.

E: What do you mean?

FE: It coulda said, “the conductor made a good impression, again.” See? By addin the “48-year-old,” the “always made a good impression,” and the “current program is no exception,” the reviewer extended the thought from 7 words to 25. But it got even better and longer. Am I right? The semi-colon thought that followed that one said nothing. See? It’s more bang, more snap. I mean, no one knows what “crisp energy” is. Nobody worth conductin a symphony could do it without “spot-on cueing and precise baton.” See? Combine em and ya get what? An “unusually pointed performance?” What the fuck? Right? Coulda just said that they all played good. But it paints a picture. It keeps ya readin.

E: I see your point. Nobody reading this would say, “Hey, look! ‘Crisp energy.’ I want to go to this concert!”

FE: Zing! Ya got it!

E: So when the reviewer said this,

Joseph Adam was the organist, and in the finale—when the mighty chords poured out of the hall’s Watjen Concert Organ with the rumble of a departing jet—he delivered perfectly judged thunderbolts of sound.

the reviewer didn’t intend that the chords that “poured” and rumbled like a departing jet to be correlated with thunderbolts (because thunderbolts are quick and sharp, right?) Instead, the reviewer just paints a picture. And it doesn’t matter how convoluted the picture becomes, it’s merely to make the performance seem evocative.

FE: Now you’re on to it! Might I suggest a particular school to go to, for only $1,500 a semester?

E: Well, I don’t think....

(somebody knocks at the door)

FE: What else ya got? I’m on borrowed time, if ya know what I mean?

E: I’ll try to be fast. So this also goes for a statement like this?

Among the many fine solo passages were those of Susan Carroll, whose horn solos were exemplary.

FE: Coulda said, “Susan Carroll’s horn solos were good.” See?

E: And what about this?

The opener, Liszt's Symphonic Poem No. 5 ("Prometheus"), is the sort of work that makes one wish Liszt had stuck to the piano. But that didn't matter, because up next was the evening's featured soloist: pianist Horacio Gutiérrez, always one of those artists you look forward to with pleasure. Gutiérrez, who returned to the stage earlier this year after several months' absence (while he underwent treatment for primary gastric lymphoma), is definitely in top form. He played one of the great warhorses of the repertoire, the Tchaikovsky First, with the grand romantic style for which he is known, but also with a poetic sensibility to go along with the big-moment technical prowess.

FE: Does as little as Derek Jeter at short. But it’s flashy. “Great warhorses” is in my textbook, which ya could buy right now for a modest fee of 65 big ones. You’ll get numerous others, like “romantic arc,” “romantic arch” and “accelerating like a Porsche.”

E: No thanks, I’ll...

(knocking at door grows louder)

...make this my last question. How about the ending?

FE: What about it? Like the beginning, ya gotta give em some zing! Down on the pedal, I gotta go.

E: Like this ending?

If you think you're bored with the Tchaikovsky, here is an artist to show you otherwise.

FE: Yeah. Ya got another exit?

E: Down the hall to the left.

*at this point Fast Eddie collects his leather jacket, fedora, and numerous miscellany and rushes out the back exit.

Fast Eddie's School of Music Criticism

The professor’s name was Fast Eddie. He was peculiar, to say the least. He wore a plaid fedora, in which there was an old betting stub (or so it seemed) stuck hastily in the collar. In his jacket pocket there was a tattered spiral notebook and several unsharpened pencils, lead end up. He walked with unusual speed, very deliberate, but nervous. And this is how he spoke, too.

His lesson, which was alarmingly curt, went something like this:

Eddie: Nice t’meechyas, class. I’ll make this quick. Then ya can get into the game, presto. Just like that, see? Now whatcha gotta do is give em a line. A headline. Somethin colorful. Maybe it has somthin t’do with the players, maybe not. Just go for the gusto. Maybe something like this: (waves hand like reading a headline)

Sober Bartok With a Swirling Finale

They like that. They’ll go nuts for it. But it’s gotta be vague, intriguing. See? You gotta keep em wanting more. Cause that’s how ya make the big moolah. Then ya give em somethin over their heads. It’ll be like, “I’m smart and ya gotta listen to me.” Maybe somethin like this:

Big ideas in music gravitate toward big sounds.

T’ them, the saps, the writin sounds big. Gotta be big. Then ya follow that up with another doozey. A real zinger. See? They’ll be hooked in no time. Guaranteed. They’ll be throwin their money atcha. It’s like call and answer. Like a phone call: “Hey, how’s it goin, Marty?”

“F.U. Where’s my money, Fast Eddie? I gave you two weeks.” See? Zing! Zip! Flashy and a bit ballsy. See? Maybe something like this:

Well used, a single instrument does even better.

See? It don’t have to make sense. They’ll fall over themselves. They’ll be crazy for ya. You got em where ya want em. They gotta read the whole thing now. They cant get enough of ya.

Now all ya have t’do is apply my, “Quick and Easy,” formula. There’s a couple a things ya gotta know first. One, you don’t have to make sense. Ya already got em reading, that’s the main thing. It don’t matter whatcha do after. Just keep writin. And two, whatever ya do write, it’s gotta be colorful. I mean, ya don’t want a cheesesteak without the peppers. Am I right? Bingo, bango. Just add some sugar to the coffee.

The formula is easy. See? You just kinda throw in some names and you “pepper” em up. Make em sound expensive. Like the saps need to want this bull. Make em want to spend some more money.

If ya got “Concerto for Orchestra,” ya do it up like this:

great ode to symphonic luxury.

Zing! I am right?

If it’s loud, make it louder.

...public declamation filled with color and exclamation points.

See? It’s an f’in sonata. Just a fancy way t’say loud. They’ll eat it up. And if ya have to, exaggerate a little. It never hurt anyone, nohow.

If a lovlier, more touching piece of linear writing exists in 20th-century music, I don’t know it.

Ya gotta show some humility, too. Ya don’t wanna insult the poor slobs. If they get their little feelins hurt, it ain’t gonna go good.

And if ya didn’t like the show, hide it a bit. Like thankin someone for givin ya socks on Christmas. Do it up like this:

Brahms was good at destroying music he did not want remembered, but the C minor Scherzo at the start of this impressive evening might have escaped by hiding itself inside a hybrid sonata.

Oh yeahs. And always two adjacent adjectives. The more the better. Am I right? Or am I right? Or sometimes, hows bout an adjective that modifies an adverb? Always a winner. Stick to my formula and you'll be writin good in no time. You can take that t' the bank; better than a two-to-one at the track.

Alright knuckleheads, class over. Ask the bartender for your corrected homework on the way out.

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This transcription was provided to me by an anonymous source. This source also mentions a few names who attended this class. Those names will be made available at the appropriate time. Here, is one of them.
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