Dionne's lil' sister, in contrast to her sibling's restrained niceties, proves what a gorgeous, wholesome howl she has in a track voluminous with vehemence and the hope of joy hereafter. Warwick travels effortlessly between poles of frustration and hope over the underdone orchestration (a compliment: if the backing was as heartfelt as Dee Dee we'd be wading into Celine Dion territory).

And, in the age of Eamon and his bleep-a-ramas, it's deeply satisfying to hear a word such as "damn" being expressed as if it were the nastiest expletive possible.