Applause. Whoops. A seemingly pony trotted syncopated rhythm stretches out into languorous, flamenco handclaps and then the delight: bubbling, burbling electronica that ferments, froths and breathes … Synthesizers. It builds. Piano melancholia. Bowie starts to sing. This is music. ‘Love is lost. Lost is love.’ he sings. ‘If love is lost, I am lost in love’, I think. It continues. It builds. And drops. And builds again. This time with a mule-like kick. The cheeky thematic nod to ‘Ashes to Ashes’ twists it tighter still. And there you have it: ten minutes twenty-five of unadulterated sunrise to moonstruck, heavy electrosexual pleasure for your aural gratification. Nothing less.
4 out of 5
Reviewed By Paulette
