An exploratory change in direction from an electrifying icon. “I’m so tired of all this bullshit,” cries Grace Jones, hacking herself free of the disco roots tying her to a dying scene. The synths endure (“The Hunter Gets Captured By The Game” has tropical flair), but ensconced in a Bahamas studio she probes dub, post-punk (the thumping “Warm Leatherette”) and new wave (her edgy rework of Roxy Music’s “Love is the Drug”) to propel her forwards.