A toy-bright synthesiser states a melody you could whistle in a playground, and Andy McCluskey starts singing the name of an aeroplane as if the name were a girl's, which, terribly, it was.
A piano states a small, adult figure, no drum yet, and Annie Lennox's voice enters as if she had been sitting with the same sentence all night and had finally decided to say it aloud.
An oboe and a synthesizer collide in the first seconds, glamorous and slightly unhinged, and Bryan Ferry starts listing places as if a postcard had been cut up and thrown into the wind.