Guido Farnell, Journalist

The crowd spans generations and there is a noticeable contingent of patriotic British expats mingling in the crowd.

This album hangs like modern art in a gallery; sometimes you may not comprehend the intent but it’s worthwhile to stand back and ponder.

Of course everyone jumps to their feet for You Can Call Me Al and the dreamy glittering guitars of Graceland and we leave the auditorium to Sinatra’s swinging version of Mrs Robinson – a playfully cheeky move on Simon’s part.

The crowd demand more but Endless Boogie have left the building. Thankfully they will be back at the Tote again this Friday.

Unlike a lot of their indie dance contemporaries, Strange Talk are joyously upbeat at all times, unashamed to toss a little cheese into the mix and pummel us with beats that irresistibly lead to the dancefloor.

Smooth listening that ought to tide you over until the next Radiohead album.

At times it is hard to get away from the feeling that this well-rounded album may be Bowie’s last. Fingers crossed it marks a new (and long) phase of his career.

George Clinton conducts the band (and us) effortlessly. While we all like the funk, many comment that the set may have been a tad too long.

The blissed out feel-good notes that Mitzi hit across this accomplished album make it the perfect soundtrack for those memorable good times.