Dislocation

Beautiful, beautiful.

Not my cup of tea, but one must admit its power and rawness nonetheless...
I really like the way you write.

I didn't see him but I still slept the sleep of the Just.

Well, the work in question straddles the line between ear-splitting ridicule and sheer nonsense, let’s be honest. The period for Lennon was peculiar, and he was convinced that, alongside his career, or rather, his discography with the Beatles, he could lead another path with decidedly more artistic and free contours, not destined for the stratospheric sales he was used to, but still aimed at higher cultural strata, devoted to different kinds of assessments, intended to recognize his value as an Artist even outside of rock'n'roll and singer-songwriter genres, of which he thought he would surely be a part one day.

But who actually bought copies of this attempted masterpiece? Certainly the fans of the Fab Four, or at least a slice of them, who then archived it in a forgotten folder, filed under "Career Pauses" or "Not To Hear Again In This Lifetime." I would say no one else, really.

And I think that Lennon himself struggled to identify in this work, and in the following ones, his first steps towards a solo career, which took place in a realm of which he was utterly unaware and, undoubtedly, he moved a bit blindly, with the freshness of the Ignorant Neophyte of Good Will, all wrapped up in unconditional admiration for his new partner who was already part of an innovative branch of Modern Art, urging him to navigate those waters.

It is also true, as our colleague reminds us above, that a predominant part in thinking of and bringing forth such a work might stem from certain peculiar characteristics of our dear friend’s personality, such as, indeed, self-referentiality and narcissism. Let's not forget one of his songs from that period where Lennon depicted the odyssey of marrying Ono as an adventure from another time, both tossed between France, England, and Gibraltar, where they finally tied the knot. In the realization and in the text itself of "The Ballad of John and Yoko," one can clearly see a self-pity and a desire to narrate what happened to the Two that borders on the ridiculous, as if the troubles of their tumultuous marriage were the concern of all humanity and everyone was deeply involved, rather than being just the wedding of an eccentric billionaire and a modern artist entirely detached from the dirty reality of everyday life, solely focused on themselves.

Two Nobody, let it be said, are always better than one Nobody.
I don't know your DeReviewed, so I'll hurry to make up for it.
As always, beautiful the Review, a little lackluster, it seems to me, this latest one of yours, but everything is acceptable from you.
And, nunc ac semper, trallallà...

It's certainly not De André or Pasolini, clear, but this is a value album that came out at a time when trappers are taking on singer-songwriter attitudes or, worse, behaving like pop singers, while poets teach Italian in middle schools, what do I know... For some, it has the fault of being boring, since it doesn't feature four-on-the-floor beats, synths, or thundering guitars, nor, least of all, songs that resemble Baustelle (Bluestelle?)... it's simply a singer-songwriter album in one of the most proper senses of the term, for me one of the best in the genre in recent years. Our artist isn't charming and suffers from the arrogance that everyone might reproach him for, but he has a mastery of language and clarity of intent to spare.
If you don't like it, so be it; in my opinion, your review was overly harsh, and so be it once again.
And in the mediauoolld bin, there are Endrigo and Timbacclei today.
Peace.

Read three and a half years later.
Very good.

Put it in the Editorials, come on....
I don't expect to see the end of this charming little column...
To those who proclaim its uselessness, I proudly wave half of the pages of the DeB. I am incredibly proud of it.

Mblah.

Aside from the charm the character inspires, musically speaking our offering is as useful as a butt without a hole.