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069: Catherine Russell, ‘New Speedway Boogie’

In which the daughter of Louis Armstrong’s musical director, Julliard graduate and studio singer par excellence, sparkles up an old Grateful Dead tune backed by a mandoline, string bass and tambourine.
Jerry would have loved it.

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6

029: Eva Cassidy, ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’

Golden-haired, golden-voiced, painfully shy Eva Cassidy died in 1996 at 33 of skin cancer, unknown outside her native D.C.
She found posthumous fame three years later, via a British DJ.
Too kitsch to be true?
Listen to her. Truer words were never sung.
And have your handkerchief ready.

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8

009: Barbra Streisand, ‘Lover Come Back to Me’

At 22 Barbra Streisand traded guts for glitz and sacrificed her artistry on the altar of auto-adulation. She became a megastar cum décolletage, morphing from a talented loser into a loser of a talent. Here she is aged 20 –a truly stunning vocal artist.

For your browsing edification, we’ve added a chronological index of all 170 SoTW postings to the What’s New tab.

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1

057: Anita O’Day, ‘Tea for Two

Anita O’Day at the 1958 Newport Jazz Festival–so cool, so hip, so talented. Take a gander. She’ll knock you out of your chair.

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1

045: Julie London, ‘Bye Bye, Blackbird’

In which Jeff recalls how Julie London enticed him into basshood.

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5

206: Lake Street Dive (Rachael Price), ‘I Want You Back’

I tripped over this clip several weeks ago and am still floored. It’s the best music I’ve seen seen/heard in a month of Sundays. And vocalist Rachael Price is a wonder of nature.

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4

020: Esperanza Spalding, ‘I Know You Know’

I had the very good fortune to see Esperanza Spalding perform last week. Even though her hair was bandana’d, she was a knockout. Here’s a piece I wrote a while back about her, her music, sexuality in female performers, and a quirky taxonomy of people who make music with their voices.

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114: Luciana Souza, ‘Morrer de Amor’

‘Morrer de Amor’ as sung by Luciana Souza – the lyrics of this song are in a language I don’t understand, and I know almost nothing about its background. But the rendition is of such utter beauty and unspeakable perfection that its emotional eloquence transcends any need for explication. I’m just going to turn off my analytical brain, close my verbose mouth, and hope that you’ll be as moved by it as I am.

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