The thing about rock music, in all of the forms that I’ve worshipped, is that it’s not about thinking. You have your cerebral performers, but rock music is about the body: the corporeal sensations of fucking, moving, imbibing, ejecting. It is not about the caverns of the mind. And those caverns are where Bach spent his lifetime chasing the intricacies of forms, twisting the ideas of what music can do, wedding it to mathematical possibilities, but never forgetting that, as Keats wheezed, Beauty is Truth. Beauty is the best thing we can point at in order to say “God.”
Kaya Oakes, via (the usually somewhat more reliable) Andrew Sullivan.
RockCritics.com 
Who wants to listen to music “about the caverns of the mind”? And he manages to make the experience of the body sound so narrowly mechanical. This is insulting to rock music AND Bach.
Yeah, I just don’t understand the distinctions drawn here at all. I bet I could find 30 sentences from Aesthetics of Rock that would reduce this sentiment to rubble.
Or maybe I mean 300?
According to my GPS, the “caverns of the mind” are located just south of the windmills of your mind.
And, if memory serves, just a few further steps east from the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band.