"Washing ma-ch-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-n-n-n-e...."

At last: the first review to grapple with the Kate Bush mystery that doesn't descend to this thread's obscuratism and inappropriate high-art analogies (most of the time; I can't support the allusions to The Waves and Sylvia Fucking Plath). At least Marcello doesn't avoid wooliness; the subtext of his review is, "Yes! This album is beautiful, enigmatic, and fucking ridiculous. I will be too!"