Blossom Dearie was the last of those glittering women around whom revolved evening at cabarets. Their gossamer voices crooned of love, lust, loss and other things you weren’t quite aware of while you sipped chardonnay or the odd shot of high-end rum. Well, not you. But hat-tipping gangsters with cigars hanging off destructive lips certainly did.
Tanya’s voice is beyond competent. Her inflection is polished and devoid of all hesitation. She is certainly sure enough of it to individualise the song. Blossom Dearie was known for being a petite songstress with a little-girl vocal sensibility. She exuded the sexy pseudo-naivete that made women seem both untouchable and intensely relatable.
Tanya comes at it with both artistic and feminine maturity. She sings with Dearie’s characteristic sass, but seasons it with a more grounded allure, and scat sings like the best of them. The modern tonality of an electric guitar and keyboard does not detract from the original jazz instrumentation, but it’s hard to not prefer the real deal. Tanya’s version is delicious and worthy of so many replays.