I’m not even going to bother being legally correct and prefacing this with an “allegedly.” (Okay, I will, if I must.)

Coldplay, a crappy band of unmerry noisemakers, about whom I wrote the definitive piece, “Coldplay’s Contrapuntal Incompetence,” has allegedly ripped off Joe Satriani’s instrumental, “If I Could Fly.” (He sure soars musically.)

Although these knaves claim Frida Kahlo inspired “Viva La Vida,” it’s abundantly clear that coldcrap’s muse came not from the Marxist, Mexican artist, but, allegedly, from a good old American boy’s brilliance.

Listen (and resume reading after the clip):

This is an outrage I feel with every fiber, etc., etc. As when one reader wrote in to say a big-name radio talker was practically reading one of my WND columns on the air, claiming the words (chords) and ideas (chord progression) as his own.

There’s more, as you know.

As I once wrote, “The marketplace doesn’t adjudicate the quality of art or pop culture—it does no more than offer an aggregate snapshot of the trillions of subjective preferences enacted by consumers. Aguilera (Christina) probably sells more than Ashkenazy (Vladimir) ever did. Britney outdoes Borodin. For some, this will be faith-inspiring, for others deeply distressing.” (February 7, 2003)

Mediocre minds need to feed on their less-known betters. More often than not, the former have managed to climb to the top by catering to vulgar, popular tastes. (For example: The taste for blood Boobus developed facilitated not only the Iraq invasion, but careers for many a war harpy.)

They can steal with impunity from their betters, who’ll never attain the power to be able to sue.

But now the parasite has enraged the host.

Satriani’s law suit is gratifying, although I don’t expect Coldplay to lose face. They’ll be graced, rather than disgraced–much like Paris Hilton after copulating in public.

For fans of good, neoclassical, instrumental rock, I’ll ask the spouse, a formidable composer and instrumentalist himself, to say a word or two about Satriani. He agrees, though, that I’ve covered Coldplay quite adequately.

From “Coldplay’s Contrapuntal Incompetence comes a reminder of what we’re dealing with:

“Coldplay plays only one or two chords. When they get going, the band musters three. It’s the equivalent of ‘Baa, Baa, Black Sheep,’ maybe ‘Three Blind Mice,’ although these nursery rhymes reveal better melodic progression. Indeed, some harmony might have helped Coldplay’s caterwauling, but consonance, like counterpoint, is nowhere apparent in their ‘music.'”

“The front man also fancies himself a keyboardist. He doubles over the instrument with immense concentration, leading the listener to expect some virtuosity. The sounds that escape from beneath stiff digits are as tortured as a toddler’s hammering away on a play-play piano.”

“Slackers like Coldplay deserve cold contempt. Colorlessly they drone on, sustaining one or two pitches and exhibiting zero proficiency on any of the instruments they belabor. The bassist picks notes in a pedestrian fashion and the guitarist strums simplistically, producing a cacophony with almost no melodic momentum or variation. At the guitarist’s feet lie 10 to 15 effects pedals. But a slight echo in the monotone is the only evidence that he makes use of these sonic supports.”

“The singer openly boasts that to record one of their trills, the band needed hundreds of takes—so many that they eventually gave up. Incapable of playing such simple dirge from beginning to end, our towering talents resorted to a computer to help them piece the bits together. Audiences cheer their admission of incompetence much like they revel in the president’s unfamiliarity with the English language.”