"The synth pad presets softly juggle the usual chords around and around while samples get the hell sampled out of them. Meanwhile, the lyrics would never be seriously considered as the writings of an artist approaching fifty years of age. Platitudes are vaguely approached, but never established. "This is how, how we tried / This is where, where it died / This is how, how we cried / Like the dogs left outside," as a chorus, doesn't exude any kind of confidence in any subject matter. Having it sung by Moby himself lessens its reasons for hanging around for over nine minutes at the end of the album".