John Lennon
Acoustic 2004

"I DON'T BELIEVE IN JESUS, I DON'T BELIEVE IN HITLER, I DON'T BELIEVE IN BUDDHA, I DON'T BELIEVE IN KENNEDY, I DON'T BELIEVE IN BEATLES, I JUST BELIEVE IN... ME" J. L.

QUESTION: WOULD YOU HAVE BELIEVED IN THIS ALBUM TOO? Here we are in the vicinity of a deity, a myth, and therefore an "untouchable," and all those who dare even to brush against a "deity" have always faced controversies, anathemas, indignation, and heavy accusations ("how did you dare speak ill of John Lennon?!" - "He is more famous than Jesus Christ!" - "He wrote the Bible of Rock" and so on), but I will not refrain from giving my opinion on this album produced by the little Japanese woman who has always lived in the shadow of the lankiest and most committed beetle of the four. The album is a kind of tribute to our classics interpreted with voice and guitar, a savvy and frankly unnecessary operation that denotes both the intimate attitude of our musician but that in the long run shows shortness of breath and, beyond 4/5 really beautiful episodes, it gives us a dull and to say the least, squishy record. A delicate and tender record ("Love"), resigned and melancholic at times ("Look At Me"), recovered and assembled from tapes and home recordings, demos, and short glimpses recovered from who knows where just to put together a decent record.

I can't say it's a bad record, but certainly the songs are not all up to par (damn, it's always John Lennon!!) and some are sketched and rushed in execution ("My Mummy's Dead") or somewhat outdated in their sixties and pacifist themes (in "God," John says he believes in no one and lists a string of names from God to Buddha, Kennedy, Elvis, Dylan, etc., only to reveal to us he only believes in himself - talk about Ego! - I then remember an almost identical song by Claudio Rocchi... does anyone else remember it?). Other songs would be unpublishable and/or unlistenable from wherever you listen to them (see "Cold Turkey"), but you know, even a saint's pee is sacred. A dive into the fabulous 60s with the two live tracks "The Luck of the Irish" and "John Sinclair," cute but nothing more. Certainly, the part that hits the most are the lyrics truly ahead of their time and brutally disorienting (just the draft of "Woman Is The Nigger Of The World": 40 seconds for a punch in the stomach to the propriety and morality of today as of then). You quickly scroll through these 70 minutes stuffed with easily catchy pop-rock songs ("What You Got" or "Watching The Wheels") whispered by the gentle and delicate voice apparently in contrast with the greatness and sharpness of the visionary and "forward" character in prophesying ideological and political scenarios mixed with delicacy in handling the vision of small things. Certainly, there are quite a few falls ("Dear Yoko"), but other pieces sketch for us the genius, whimsical, and anarchic character of an intimate and private Lennon ("Real Love" half ruined by the other three on Anthology or the evergreen "Imagine") that closes an album as fragile as few, parting with the light and disenchanted whistle of "It's Real," 68 seconds of pure annoyance and disengagement.

On a technical and rational level, I would have given a score from 2 to 3 (certain songs could have been done even by Renga or Tricarico...), but then I told myself "oh, but it's John Lennon and you can't!" and after re-listening with my heart in my hand on the emotional and emotive side (with Lennon's little saint card in the other hand indeed) I felt like giving a full 4.
My question is: if the same album, the exact same, had been made, who knows, by James Last or John Denver, would I have given the same score? How much does the author, the myth itself, influence the intrinsic judgment of the record? Well, regardless of who made it (forgetting all paranoia) I would say, in the end, a nice album, nothing special, and dispensable from the works already edited by our musician. Score 3 (and "He" would approve, oh yes he would...)