"Doleful pornographic poetry" – Q magazine

"Strange, sometimes disturbing..music that's as creepily compelling as it is unapproachably aloof" - pitchfork review

"Cocks, cocaine, wanking, fags, fucking, tits...there's just nothing else to say about this record." - VICE magazine

"Too much meandering anti-folk" - Stoolpigeon

"We have to warn you that only four of the songs on this record have what could be recognized as a melody" - Time Out

"Who else could say 'knickers on yer doorstep' and make it sound really sentimental?" - the Pixx

"Dance and Walk models a creepy, stream of consciousness vibe that won't sound quite so catchy at art openings. Murmuring over plinky-plonky beats and spidery acoustic guitar, she comes on like one of those men who sidle up to you with a randomly obscene comment." - Plan B

"Polite is like filthy crickets mating to Leigh Bowery's band minty with lyrics randomly ripped out of Penthouse Forum and churchwhisper quiet Doherfuckher is menacing and a bit mental. The singing to themselves crazies on London's busses have clearly had an effect. " – Londonpaper

"…sexually incorrect politics, messed up and cheapo bodybeat- all of it bathed in some murky underworld fog that links London's fashionista clubscene with Berlin, Amsterdam, New York and the Victorian East End" – Rough Trade review