Everybody who thought Tricky was here to save the world from gangsta, think again. Review of PMT VoX Magazine, October 1996 Back in 1971, a sorrowful, drug damaged Marvin Gaye tried to put his fears into perspective. PMT is a modern equivalent. But while Marvin had a fibre of hope, Tricky denies any chance of escape, and the lows are even more precipitous. He sings it like someone's standing on his chest as the fumes pepper his lungs with filth.
Every turn presents the author with disgust and horror.
His voice is often just a synthetic growl, throwing Martina's high tones into relief. The record tails off with 2 relentless tracks. Recording in Jamaica has given it a more savage edge, but it's still a development rather than a departure. Song is story of contrasts. I didn't even notice it the first couple times I heard it.