One US newspaper described it as embracing "everything from country-tinged ditties to Black Sabbath-style fuzzbuckets with the Paul McCartney songbook tossed in to throw the dogs off the scent".
I'm betting some of the pianist's larger muscles get a workout in the Scherzos and Sonatas, but Chopin (and, by extension, many of his interpreters) is still seen as a sickly, effete purveyor of dainty piano ditties.