Piano lessons for me as a child meant sitting down every Tuesday at a shiny black Yamaha upright, looking up at shelves laden with tributes to my piano teacher’s twin obsessions: busts of classical greats like Beethoven and Chopin, and copies of the Wisden Cricketers’ Almanack, to which he contributed every year. I’d sit and play; he’d sit and criticize. And over the course of a torturous six-year education, my teacher, Mr Dyson, instilled in my grumpy teenage self a love of music I can never adequately thank him for. I did my grades, paid my dues, and I’ve played more or less ever since.
All this is perhaps why the Lumi keyboard — the slickest, most intriguing piece of musical hardware I’ve come across in recent years — appalls and…