[45] Rufus Wainwright, ‘I Don’t Know What It Is’

Straight Outta Kansas

I know what it is: a full-blown musical in miniature; a camp, puffed-chest symphony of the psyche; a soaring, sweet folly that exercises pop immediacy while decked out like a gaudy indulgence. If that’s not too many adjectives. Every time I remember this, I tend to listen to it again and again and end up with an ice-cream headache.

Junior says: “Aw,” when it finishes. At other points she lip-synchs along with words she doesn’t know and waves her hands to the strings.

Best bit: “Slightly mysterious BRUISES”.

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