Nevertheless, I rather like Sean O'Hagan's reassessment of Lennon in yesterday's Observer.
Perhaps it's time we remembered John Lennon for what he really was: not just the first and greatest pop star but also the most vulnerable and messed-up. The iconoclast who dared imagine what global fame, useless of itself, might be used for. The upstart who stole the world, and tried, in his impulsively tough and compulsively tender way, to make sense of it. And, most courageous of all, to change it.There was something very appealing to me about Lennon as a gawky adolescent struggling to find her place in the world. I know it's hard to trace back events to say "this happened because of that" in any singular definable fashion, but there probably would be some truth in saying that for me at least, Lennon's death did mark a turning point. And one I can never entirely regret.
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I felt weird when any of the really big pop stars from my childhood died. Brian Jones was the first and arguably the most shocking, but Keith Moon and (stretching my childhood a bit...) Marc Bolan left holes. And when Frank Zappa died he took some of my teenage and student years with him. For me, Lennon fitted into that continuum.
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