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Performance (1970) dir – Nicolas Roeg/Donald Cammell

Yeah, woeful play on words/song lyrics right? (See Bowie’s Ch..ch..changes and Turn by Therapy?) Well, it’s not as if anyone is actually reading this blog – cue tiny violins played by circus freaks being pushed off a cliff – anyway…huff.

For those in the nose, with my Nic Roeg shoutout (yo! Nick! ya got dem filmz? i got ya oysterz for ya! yeah! ya oysterz! huh? shoutin? I aint shoutin!!! ya got dem cult filmz o wha? get im ovah heyere) earlier in the week, gorge on the weirdness of his debut feature by watching this hypnotic proto music promo scene from Performance and also delight in James Fox’s wig and sexual confusion as Jagger rubs his evil charisma in your plebian face. And remember, this was before he started charging a whopper amount for the privilege of seeing rotting effigies of ‘imself and his mates on their never-ending tour of giant leisure centres.

Oh, the bitterness! The self-pity! My sorry cup doth runneth over sire! Who am talking to? Blahhhhhhhrrghhh….take another mushroom, pint of vodka, down regent street, slap a chelsea suit on my wazzock and i will be spinning round carnaby grove like one of dem rock/star model types, swinging like it’s….oh bugger, it’s 2015. Too late for me, sisters and brothers, flares are dead, free love has been quarantined, pc police have me by the brass ones. Time to retire Del Boy. Mediocre ‘performance’. could do better. Yeah, why don’t you try? where was I?

I’ve lost the trains of thoughtfulness, gonna get me a jack russell… (cue maudlin music)…those little nippers never let you down and they don’t give a stones fuck about culture and being hip to the max. yeah, i’m gonna do that and live in a tree cos i can’t get no satisfaction in this fluctuating post-capitalist-neoliberal hellscape. Boo…Derek. Just boo-ti-full my son!!! Now explode like a pretty star! just make sure you keep your fancy knickers on under that tailored double leg.

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