Con­ven­tional mu­sic the­ory grasps the com­po­si­tion only in its pe­riph­eral ef­fects. With the con­ven­tional means of mu­si­cal analy­sis only the outer physi­ol­ogy of mu­sic is be­ing ana­lyzed, and this outer me­chani­cal pro­ce­dure does not even permit a judge­ment of whether it is ac­tual live mu­sic or only a “com­puter-made” com­po­si­tion.
Thus, with the cur­rent means of ex­ter­nally gain­ing sci­en­tific knowl­edge of mu­sic one stud­ies mu­sic, but misses the es­sence of it.

Mu­sic es­sen­tially is con­cerned with some­thing non-mu­si­cal, with some­thing gen­er­ally hu­man.
Mu­sic it­self cor­re­sponds to the in­ner na­ture of man, and its outer sound-ap­pear­ance cor­re­sponds to his clothes. And the lat­ter, the outer mu­si­cal gar­ment, the gross mu­si­cal form, is all that is made ac­ces­si­ble in con­ven­tional musi­co­logi­cal re­search.

Even if our clothes fit well, and even if the style of the dress matches our taste and the taste of our time, none of us would want to be judged by his clothes alone.

The status quo of the cur­rent sci­en­tific mu­si­cal re­search is only the ex­pres­sion of the se­crecy which sur­rounds the sys­tem­atic proc­ess of the genu­ine crea­tion of mu­sic since cen­tu­ries.

The out­stand­ing repu­ta­tion that many a great mu­si­cian en­joyed in so­ci­ety led to a point where the tal­ents among them were pres­sed into the role of heroes by the cheer­ing crowd, and con­se­quently the sim­ple credo of straight­for­ward crea­tiv­ity was sup­pres­sed.