This isn’t the album I was expecting. Maybe it’s fun, but it’s got a synthetic sheath. It felt quite formulaic, and it sounded good, but I can’t help but feel like it lacked some depth. Maybe it just ages badly when a singer who dies a premature death eulogises his own hedonism?

I enjoyed the funk, and Lady Cab Driver is one of the craziest tracks I've heard in years of doing this.