Not if the music is of a type I dislike or merely tolderate. It's too easy for mediocrity and worse to be spun and hyped into "greatness." I've long ceased caring about figures on the fringe of my consciousness.
Occasionally I'm surprised at reading about or seeing stories on TV about famous people and their tribulations or even their deaths that make news for weeks but of whom I've never heard. I think it's sensory overload, and I think everyone living anywhere there are TVs, movies, radio, iPods and all the rest blaring at them 24 hours a day are affected, if not victimized by the never-ending cacophony. At some point, self-preservaton demands it be tuned out.
The Washington Post's test was unfair and part of the overall problem, not some lession to be learned by subway-station plebs who must constantly run merely to stay in the same place and who, because of that, might be less likely to know the Post's version of kulture when it hits them between the eyes. With this story, the Post is playing to its audience carved out of the teeming masses as much as any entertainer and TV show of whatever stripe.
I'd probably ignore the greatest rap artist who ever lived, so I can't shake my head in disbelief at those who might feel the same about a violinist.
L'Enfant Plaza probably was chosen by the Post more for the irony of its name in relation to the point of the story than by chance; there's more than a little snobbery in the piece. All the same, it was worth the read.