A plaintive ballad deliverd in Terry Halls dour,deadpan,delivery yes dour but oddly touching ,very british with a touch of continental mystery in an Alan delon kind of way

The Cure meets Tamlla Motown ,well sort of, the ideas in Robert Smiths head celebrated the sound of black America yet still kept their fledgling gothic credentials intact.A syncopated bass line and drum pattern is supported by a persistant but low fi organ ,the song goes from sinister and unerving to joyous and euphoric in just a couple of minutes thanks to some well timed horns and hand claps whilst the original rhythym never misses a beat.A time when any band could try any thing and occasionally meet with a happy accident.