When we praise God, we are offering worship - we are saying 'God you are so awesome wonderful amazing' etc.
The important thing is that the praise, the worship is directed towards the object of that worship.
So the language itself is a means to an end. It is the finger pointing at the moon.
So is everything else associated with it - the prayers, the music, the silence.
All those things might be wonderful and worthy of praise in their own right - they might be marvellous language (eg KJV, BCP) - they might be gloriously sublime music (Allegri's Miserere, Tavener) - they might be profoundly affecting silence - but if these means become ends in themselves, if they become the focal point of attention, then whatever is being done is no longer worship.
And when that happens, what the believer needs to do is to go without them, to fast, in order that these wonderful elements might be re-placed into their proper position.
For the excellence of what is offered - when considered separately to the act of offering itself - is a spiritual snare. It is to offer out of an imagined bounty, not to give the widow's mite. It is to say 'I thank you that I'm not like those uncultured heathens with their praise songs (/prayer book societies/ beers'n'hymns/ high mass/ whatever - delete as applicable)'.
I suppose I'm saying: genuine worship begins with 'Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner'; and 'I am nothing, I am no longer worthy to be called your son'; and also 'yet what I can I give him, give him my heart'.
If we have our attention on God - everything else will fall naturally into place, and everything else will flourish and be excellent. Yet if we have our attention on those excellent things, then they distract us from God, and then we find ourselves bewildered and lost, tied up in sin.
The first commandment must come first.
Augustine had it right - as so often: "Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would not have been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace."