HOW TO RUIN A CAREER, ANGLOPHONE SECTION, vol. 6: Elton John
(An exception to the usual review of Italian talent, groups, or solo artists. This time we’re going Anglo-speaking, after all, should we say it or not that it's not just in the Boot that musical careers, once leading the way for everyone, are being completed in an unworthy and disgraceful manner?)
Dear friends, welcome to the twelfth installment of a delightful little column that I advise you to take in small doses and on an empty stomach. Inspired by excellent DeBaser enthusiasts with the hobby of occasionally sticking two fingers down their throats, here I am proposing a few carefully selected listens regarding the disgusting side of the production of some anglo-speaking groups or solo artists who have truly made a mark in Music History, once offering quality music with potentially international appeal, only to later fall into the shallows of a very low-tier discography that renders them, for the most part, unrecognizable to the ears of their former fans. Let’s get the rancid trumpets blowing, shall we…
Now we’ll focus on the discographic production of Sir Reginald, who contributed so much to the cause of rock 'n' roll and songwriting in general until, roughly, the end of the famous '70s. Afterwards, he let himself venture into disco dance before embarking on a new career characterized by the emptiest sentimentalism and such repetitive writing that the first thing one feels upon listening to one of his products is that, goodness gracious, I've already heard this, and not just once or twice… So, rather than "Reg Strikes Back," we might lean towards "Strike Reg On His Back," let's say...
Elton John - Healing Hands
(An exception to the usual review of Italian talent, groups, or solo artists. This time we’re going Anglo-speaking, after all, should we say it or not that it's not just in the Boot that musical careers, once leading the way for everyone, are being completed in an unworthy and disgraceful manner?)
Dear friends, welcome to the twelfth installment of a delightful little column that I advise you to take in small doses and on an empty stomach. Inspired by excellent DeBaser enthusiasts with the hobby of occasionally sticking two fingers down their throats, here I am proposing a few carefully selected listens regarding the disgusting side of the production of some anglo-speaking groups or solo artists who have truly made a mark in Music History, once offering quality music with potentially international appeal, only to later fall into the shallows of a very low-tier discography that renders them, for the most part, unrecognizable to the ears of their former fans. Let’s get the rancid trumpets blowing, shall we…
Now we’ll focus on the discographic production of Sir Reginald, who contributed so much to the cause of rock 'n' roll and songwriting in general until, roughly, the end of the famous '70s. Afterwards, he let himself venture into disco dance before embarking on a new career characterized by the emptiest sentimentalism and such repetitive writing that the first thing one feels upon listening to one of his products is that, goodness gracious, I've already heard this, and not just once or twice… So, rather than "Reg Strikes Back," we might lean towards "Strike Reg On His Back," let's say...
Elton John - Healing Hands
Dislocation
12 aug 20
DeRank ™: 4,17
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