I’ve loved Warren Zevon since Werewolves of London first came out of the radio in the 1970s. Much later in his life, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and wrote this reflective, self-aware, poignant masterpiece, My Shit’s Fucked Up. Warren manages to deal with the subject of his imminent death – remarkable in itself – with great diginity and using simple language which anyone can acknowledge. It’s emotional without being sentimental. This is a truly great performance.
If I can be as sanguine about my own fate, should it come to that, I will have achieved something of great merit.