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Watching the video of "All The Single Ladies" with the sound off, just watching the dance moves they make, when you subject the girls to scrutiny all the libido drains out of you. Their eyes look cold, like CCTV cameras with nobody watching; like dead fish; like the local tuppenny whore who occasionally pops out of her brothel downtown for a smoke on the street.

The lead singer's eyes are worse. Hungry for your money, for your lust, for your attention to her. But no intention whatsoever of sharing her emotions with the fans.

All of it calculated for maximum effect by a bank of expert psychologists and choreographers who have studied every stripper under the sun, and who have scrutinised the erotic dance moves in hundreds of other cultures to create a seamless, soulless melange of dance steps designed to get the blood pumping without the viewers ever knowing exactly why they are supposed to be turned on by this display of boneless jellyfish flesh on the screen.