Devendra Banhart
Mala

There was a time when I too jumped on the bandwagon of fetishistically supporting this American musician who sings cool, thinks cool, writes cool, styles his hair cool, and is therefore, by all accounts, to be considered cool... then, honestly, I got a bit fed up with it. He was always around.

Between 2002 and 2005, he churned out 6 albums as well as countless and diverse collaborations from a good cool artist who sings, plays, acts, paints, and who knows what else. I must say, however, that it had been a few years since he had shown up, which is why, driven by the curiosity to reconnect with him and, let's be honest, to bash him with a venomous review, I approached the listening of Malo, oops Mala, with a light heart...

I admit that for the first 27 minutes, I sat quietly listening to the same old dear Devendra strumming and whispering to the wind his cool poems with a touch of electronics here and there and a slight aftertaste of Vincent Gallo, that great genius Vincent Gallo; the problem, however, arrives with Mi Negrita. From there on, indeed, if the album had remained on acceptable tracks, the madness begins: a Latin ballad of a disarming banality followed by a disco piece, that is, nightclub!!! and then again whispers and murmurs between one guitar doodle and another, until I fell into a very deep sleep before waking up with my head on the keyboard and drool at the mouth.

In short, guys, I might be old or I might be a jerk but this umpteenth mess from good old Devendra Banhart convinces Zero!