What a funny man.
He’s known by many names, Jim Thirlwell – Scraping [a]Foetus[/a] Off The Wheel, You’ve Got Foetus On Your Breath, Foetus Art Terrorism, Foetus Over Frisco among many others. Tonight, with a reptilian air, safari shirt and slacks, the performance artist is plain old [a]Foetus[/a]. And he’s very pleased to meet you. So pleased he fondles himself through his trousers, as a wall of noise rises and falls around him. Some people should never be allowed near a captive audience. In the ’80s, [a]Foetus[/a] enjoyed a period of notoriety and hipness with percussionvheavy proto industrial songs. But he refuses to wax nostalgic. For a show entitled ‘Clams On Brillo’, there’s a new group on hand, dressed in regulation black, who make like an electronically enhanced Stooges. And [a]Foetus[/a] once again trashes his old reputation with barely concealed glee. Parts of the crowd cannot stomach the display of unhinged sleaze and sexual suggestion. Those that persever or indeed gain a guilty pleasure from the proceedings – are rewarded with a slavering ‘Clothes Hoist’ and the mucoid hate of ‘Freakaphone’. The worst is saved for the penultimate, theatrical and bile-filled ‘English Faggot’, which should be required listening for would-be stalkers everywhere. And then a most unexpected event: [a]Foetus[/a] changes into a gold lami suit for the encore. And fondles himself again. What a funny man.