-Well beyond the liner notes-

 Paraphrasing Francis Poulenc on the condition of Erik Satie's piano:

"When he died, the condition in which they found
his piano showed that he hardly ever made use of it".

That’s interesting,––– that someone

of such accomplishment, by-in-large
made little use of the singular instrument

of that accomplishment.

If that’s true.

It’s hard to believe.

I don’t believe it.

So what if Satie's piano appeared to be in pristine condition?

For the sake of addressing this question, we shouldn't
juxtapose his piano through the modus operandi of piano-
pounders like Little Richard or Jerry Lee Lewis.

Maybe Satie cleaned-up after playing,–––

meticulously polishing the grand's surface with a soft cloth,

brushing away the dust of his skin from the slender fissures of its keys.

Maybe Satie’s piano as reported by Poulenc upon his death

was a new piano and the time-worn instrument was rolled

into the apartment across the hall and given to the young lady

of modest means living there who longed to have a piano of her own.

That conjecture alone should at the least add another dimension

to any discussions pertaining to the condition of Satie's piano.
But why question the condition of Satie's piano in the first place?

Paraphrasing McCartney

on the criticism that it was too long:

 “It's great. It sold. It’s the bloody Beatle’s White Album.

   Shut the fook oop”.