Thank you for smoking.

[Video][Website]
[4.83]

Micha Cavaseno: Tricky’s best work involves how his dirges (both production-wise and vocally) serve as background for his partners approaches. Martina would pour out the words, Bjork would smooth them out like wrinkles in bedsheets, what’s-his-face from Live would force them out of the cracks. But for the past decade, Tricky has just found such poor choices in collaborators. The chorus is vintage Tricky in an almost generic way (that vocal snippet just too abused to keep its potency), and the electroclash style verses are actually bemusing in how unlikely they feel after a few listens. But Francesca here is listing off the words like a grocery list, reciting and refusing to embody, and that is what really makes the song a disappointment.
[4]

Alfred Soto: What else would Tricky have called this? After a solid album last year he mumbles and yearns over synth swells and the kind of retro sequencer programming that would’ve gotten him points five years ago.
[5]

Juana Giaimo: I really like the two styles of this song — the robotic verses and the mysterious and nocturne chorus — but they seem to belong to two different songs. 
[5]

Will Adams: The sharp-cornered A-B-A-B structure — made even more jarring through the sudden key change between sections — could have been interesting if there were any sparkle inviting another listen. Everyone and everything here sounds half asleep.
[4]

Iain Mew: It comes and goes in waves, grime-like kinetic beat alternating with whispered comedowns that suggest all stimulation is gone. Everything is a faded sketch apart from the obstructive spoken sample, but there’s something in managing to build a constant atmosphere even through the transitions that could keep me listening to this for a long time and being okay about it.
[6]

W.B. Swygart: I feel like I’ve been here before, repeatedly, but I don’t especially recall ever wanting to come back.
[5]