Yep, we're going back to Kate Bush. Yep, it's 'Babooshka'.

I know what you're thinking, but you're wrong.

You think I'm writing about this because I like to watch Ms Bush flaunting herself in scanty clothes, and with scarily edged weapons.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

Well, OK, that's a tired phrase ..... I don't object to looking at Kate, who could. But as with so many aspects of the music industry, if there isn't a hinterland that 'adds value' to the experience, you might as well listen to the refrigerator humming.  Ours does some freaky crackling and whining sounds, here in the early hours.  I'm going to sample them, add some beats, and start a new genre.  'White Goods 'n Bass'. Hmmm. Maybe not. 

Hello, hello ... look, I'm sorry to drag you back, I guess you've just been watching Kate bump and grind.  Again, nothing wrong with that, but I encourage you to look at the artistry.  Not only the musical and vocal performance, but the choreography, the dress sense, the innovative costume, the miming, the timing, those startling facial expressions, and what a great ass.  [OK, you're suspended.  No, out the door, now.  I will have your things sent on.  You disgust me - Editor]  

Just like to add .... Babooshka is a term used for Russian grandmothers or otherwise venerable ladies.  So it really doesn't make much sense in this context.  But who cares, when you can watch Kate [I've deleted the rest of this review.  You are so busted.  I'm putting you on 'One Direction' reviews until you mend your ways.  And if you don't, I'll allocate you to Barry Manilow retrospectives.  Don't think I won't do it - Editor]