This week In Singing Ladies 03/52

1 . Sade – Nothing Can Come Between Us

Released in 1988 as part of *Stronger Than Pride,* “Nothing Can Come Between Us” toes the line between minimalism and sheer elegance, blending its refined production with Sade Adu’s understated vocals.

The track leans on a buoyant bassline and syncopated guitar rhythms, evoking a texture both intimate and relaxed, a balance often elusive in the late ’80s R&B landscape.

Far from chart domination in the UK, its modest position at number 92 belied its more robust embrace in the U.S., where it landed at number three on the Billboard Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart—a testament to its layered appeal across different audiences.

The single’s multiple formats, including a limited-edition gatefold 12-inch version, catered to collectors and fans alike, featuring B-sides like “Make Some Room” that revealed slightly edgier shades of the band’s repertoire.

Lyrically opaque, the song thrives on emotional suggestion rather than narrative directness, its title acting more as a mantra than a declaration.

Decades on, its mellow groove and crisp instrumentation make it ripe for reinterpretation, leading to covers by artists as disparate as Mucky Pup and Kim Kuzma, who have transformed its subtleties into their own.

A live recording from a San Diego concert found on streaming platforms reaffirms that, even stripped of studio gloss, the song’s essence refuses to fade under the weight of time.

Its success lies not in bombastic climaxes but in the calm assurance that, sometimes, less truly is more—whether or not your turntable agrees.

Lifted from : Happy Birthday Sade Adu. ‘Much Adu About Love Thing’

2 . Lana Del Rey – When The World Was At War We Kept Dancing

Lana Del Rey’s “When the World Was at War We Kept Dancing” is an unsettling meditation on resilience, layered with political undertones that speak to an anxious moment in history during Donald Trump’s presidency.

Positioned as the eleventh track on her 2017 album *Lust for Life*, the song complements a trilogy addressing contemporary socio-political unease, alongside “Coachella – Woodstock in My Mind” and “God Bless America – and All the Beautiful Women in It.”

The lyrics arc from reflections on history’s persistent cycles of unrest—such as the Vietnam War and World War II—to questioning the authenticity of modern narratives with phrases like “fake news.”

Its production leans into haunting atmospheres, marked by somber tones and brooding vocal layering that channels a palpable sense of dread.

Del Rey chose to keep the track on the album despite fears it might unsettle listeners, viewing it as a plea for vigilance rather than despair.

Though it avoids direct commercial success metrics or awards, the song sits solidly within an album celebrated for blending melancholic introspection with broader political consciousness.

Musically, it intertwines dreamy elements of baroque pop, making its confrontation with tumultuous topics feel both wistful and unshakably relevant.

Lifted from : Lana Del Rey brings the moon to Newark (2018)

3 . Mavis Staple – I’ll Take You There

Released in 1972, “I’ll Take You There” by The Staple Singers channels a relaxed groove that feels as timeless as it does effortless.

Written by Al Bell, the track melds elements of gospel, R&B, and a touch of reggae, borrowing its bassline from the instrumental hit “The Liquidator.”

Mavis Staples leads the charge with smoky, understated authority, delivering an uplifting call-and-response that sweeps the listener along without grand theatrics.

The Muscle Shoals Sound Studios imprint shines through in its warm, loose arrangement, punctuated by horns that punctuate but never overwhelm.

Despite its carefree vibe, the song taps into deeper cultural veins, aligning itself with a message of unity that resonated amidst social unrest.

That it topped charts across genres is no accident—its universality transcends its sonic roots.

Yet, for all its effortless charm, it’s the subtleties—restraint, space, and a refusal to oversell—that make this track linger long after its final note fades.

Lifted from : Mavis Staples goes to California (2015)

4 . Valerie June – Workin’ Woman Blues

“Workin’ Woman Blues” by Valerie June emerges as a striking opener to her 2013 album *Pushin’ Against a Stone*.

Crafted during her time in New York, it stands out as one of the rare instances where the melody preceded the lyrics in her songwriting process.

The track threads together blues, folk, and funk in a way that feels both raw and deliberate, with June’s voice—a blend of grit and wail—demanding your attention.

Lyrically, it serves as a heartfelt ode to the unsung resilience of working women, inspired by the labor and sacrifices of her mother, grandmother, and the array of employers she encountered during her days of juggling odd jobs.

The rhythm section is relentless, driving forward as if reflecting the ceaseless hustle it venerates.

It has an uncanny ability to connect with listeners from diverse walks of life, resonating like an anthem for perseverance.

Performance after performance, it hasn’t lost its edge, holding its place as a crowd favorite at festivals and small stages alike.

There’s an energy here—not polished but powerful—that captures the exhaustion and triumph of labor, unapologetically human and impeccably defiant.

Lifted from : Valerie June sings in London (2014)

5 . Ana Tijoux – Sacar La Voz

Ana Tijoux’s “Sacar La Voz” is an anthem of defiance wrapped in the artist’s signature Latin hip-hop style.

Collaborating with Jorge Drexler, the track weaves an intricate blend of folk undertones into its rhythm, constructing a piece that is just as much protest as it is poetry.

The lyrics cut sharply, urging self-liberation with lines that bite, such as “Liberarse de todo el pudor tomar de las riendas no rendirse al opresor.”

The song doesn’t lecture; it motivates, placing a burning spotlight on the act of speaking out as an act of rebellion.

Its music video further amplifies this, portraying vivid imagery of creativity and unity against structures of oppression, giving the song a visual pulse that aligns seamlessly with its sonic mission.

A product of its time, the song sits comfortably within the politically charged ethos of Tijoux’s album “La Bala,” which itself gestures heavily toward global protest movements of the early 2010s.

While the instrumentation isn’t groundbreaking, it’s the honesty in both formulation and message that makes the track resonate. This song isn’t about flair; it’s about impact.

Lifted from : Ana Tijoux performs at Paste Studios (2019)

6 . Corinne Bailey Rae – Closer

From Corinne Bailey Rae’s 2010 album *The Sea*, “Closer” stands as a sultry, genre-blurring piece that merges elements of R&B and jazz with an unmistakable intimacy. Its rhythm carries a quiet insistence, like a secret shared in the dark, while Rae’s nuanced voice navigates the song’s understated desire with impressive restraint.

“The Sea” is not just an album—it’s a turning point, marking Rae’s return following personal tragedy. While most discussions center around this backstory, “Closer” sidesteps the melancholy and feels like an unguarded exhale. It’s not flashy, nor does it aim to be. Instead, its appeal lies in its refusal to overstate its case, letting each note and vocal inflection do the talking.

The live performance recorded in Soho, released on YouTube in 2024, reaffirms Rae’s ability to recreate her studio depth without losing warmth. Supporting musicians like John McCallum on electric guitar and Kenny Higgins on bass add textures that heighten its understated sophistication. That said, “Closer” isn’t a track trying to transcend genres or break ground. It’s content to occupy its niche of breezy sensuality, something many only attempt, and fewer manage convincingly.

Its broader context within “The Sea” situates it among heavier emotional fare such as “Are You Here,” acting as a reprieve rather than a focal point. The music video, housed on YouTube, mirrors the track’s allure with understated visuals complementing Rae’s natural emotive ease. For listeners seeking innovation, it might feel too safe. For those seeking warmth in simplicity, it delivers without compromise.

Lifted from : EMI publish Corinne Bailey Rae’s second album : ‘The Sea’ (2010)

7 . Tracy Chapman – Give Me One Reason

In a genre where emotion often takes precedence over musical complexity, “Give Me One Reason” strikes an impressive balance between honesty and precision. Tracy Chapman’s crisp, steely delivery cuts through the smooth blues riff like a blade, no frills, no fuss—just a slow-burning ultimatum wrapped in a groove that feels like it could loop forever without losing an ounce of its appeal.

The track channels a beautifully stubborn energy, with lyrics that oscillate between pleading and defiance. Chapman isn’t begging here; she’s offering terms, and they’re non-negotiable. That makes it all the more gratifying when the arrangement leans into the simplicity of blues—the guitar licks feel as deliberate and purposeful as the words themselves.

What’s fascinating about “Give Me One Reason” is its resistance to the trends of the mid-90s, bypassing grunge angst, glossy R&B, or stadium rock pomposity. Instead, Chapman chooses restraint, proving once again that less can be profoundly more.

This unhurried clarity no doubt played a role in its massive success, allowing it to resonate across diverse audiences. A rare gem in an era of maximalism, it remains timeless precisely because it doesn’t try too hard to be anything other than what it is: honest and unshakable. A track that feels at once personal and universal, all while firmly resisting the weight of excess production or overwrought emotion.

Lifted from : On TV today, Tracy Chapman with Jay Leno (1996)

8 . Gloria Estefan – Always Tomorrow

“Always Tomorrow” finds Gloria Estefan stepping into her role as an optimist with a guitar, grappling with loss and resilience in the wake of disaster. Released in 1992 as part of her ‘Greatest Hits’ compilation, the track carries deeper subtext, aligning itself with the aftermath of Hurricane Andrew, which decimated parts of South Florida that same year. It doesn’t scream melodrama but offers a subdued, acoustic-driven anthem of hope.

The production, by Estefan along with her husband Emilio and collaborators Jorge Casas and Clay Ostwald, nestles comfortably in early-’90s adult contemporary aesthetics—gentle strumming, lush orchestration, and just enough gravitas to avoid tipping into saccharine territory. It skirts the line between inspirational ballad and PSA, almost as if the song itself were engineered for montages of community rebuilding efforts in prime-time news specials. Which, fittingly, its music video captures in earnest detail.

Critics of the era were kind enough, though not overly effusive, with *Billboard* noting the track’s sincerity while *Cashbox* leaned into its orchestral heft. Fans of Estefan’s earlier, more dancefloor-oriented work might miss her rhythmic sensibilities, but to reduce “Always Tomorrow” solely to its place in her discography misses the point. The royalties benefited Hurricane Andrew survivors, tying the song more to action than chart achievement. By the time it was woven into the 2005 Hurricane Katrina relief compilation, its utility outpaced its commercial legacy.

If anything, “Always Tomorrow” showcases Estefan’s ability to navigate pop’s shifting landscapes while maintaining her moral compass, delivering a message palatable enough for elevator playlists yet weighted enough to linger, albeit briefly, in the memory. It’s not quite unforgettable, yet it stakes out its corner in the ’90s balladry archives, earnest and quietly purposeful, juggling poignancy without overindulging in drama.

Lifted from : Eric, Roger, Gloria et al perform for the Tsunami victims (2005)

9 . Kacey Musgraves – It Is What It Is

“It Is What It Is” from Kacey Musgraves’ *Same Trailer, Different Park* presents an unvarnished acknowledgment of a fleeting connection, stripped of pretense or emotional excess.

The conversational lyrics refine a moment of quiet resignation, as the song situates itself in the gray area between yearning and detachment.

Backed by minimalistic instrumentation, the track evokes a raw intimacy, yet it steers clear of the grandiosity that often defines country ballads.

Musgraves employs her signature lyrical wit, balancing self-aware candor with poetic brevity, as she portrays a relationship held together by convenience rather than romance.

The production, co-crafted with Luke Laird and Shane McAnally, resists overkill, opting instead for restraint that lets the narrative stand front and center.

The larger album acts as a showcase of small-town stories, but this track, hushed and self-contained, operates as a counterpoint to its sharper tales, favoring a quieter revelation.

Refraining from moralizing, it offers a snapshot of modern heartbreak unmitigated by regret—the perfect encapsulation of its title’s resigned philosophy.

Lifted from : On radio roday, Kacey Musgraves at ‘Live From Here’ (2017)

10 . Dolly Parton – Coat of Many Colors

In *Coat of Many Colors,* Dolly Parton crafts an autobiographical gem, weaving her childhood memories with a poignance that sidesteps sentimentality. Pulled from her 1971 album of the same name, the song recounts how her mother stitched a coat from fabric scraps, layering it with biblical parallels to Joseph’s coat of many colors. While poverty might seem like the central thread, it’s pride and resilience that truly shine here.

Set to a simple country arrangement, the song’s strength lies in Parton’s narrative clarity, her voice alternately tender and formidable. The instrumentation, though unflashy, provides the perfect canvas for her storytelling. This is, after all, a track where lyrics carry the emotional weight, and they do so without veering into the saccharine territory lesser songwriters might tread.

The song’s reception reflects its enduring pull. Scoring #4 on the US Billboard Hot Country Singles chart, it resonated beyond radio waves, earning nods from the National Registry and the Grammy Hall of Fame decades later. It’s also been repurposed into children’s books and even a made-for-TV movie, proving its adaptability while maintaining its core charm. If there’s an irony here, it’s that a tale of handmade humility has become something of a cultural institution—a coat re-stitched so many times, it’s become a quilt of its own legacy.

Still, *Coat of Many Colors* sits worlds apart from today’s overproduced radio fare. Its rawness feels almost quaint by modern standards, yet it refuses to age. Parton, as always, avoids preachiness, letting her narrative speak softly, clearly, and with that unmistakable Tennessee twang. For all its accolades and adaptations, the song remains what it always was: a heartfelt portrayal of grit outshining the glint of materialism. It’s Dolly at her most unadorned—and perhaps, oddly enough, her most timeless.

Lifted from : Dolly Parton rocks Austin City Limits (2001)

11 . Anita O’Day – Trav’lin’ Light

Anita O’Day tackles “Trav’lin’ Light” with her signature blend of casual sophistication and sharp phrasing, making the track both lively and oddly restrained.

The song, written by Mundy, Young, and Mercer, is no stranger to history, having first been immortalized by Billie Holiday in 1942, but O’Day’s version veers in a decidedly less melancholic direction.

Backed by Johnny Mandel’s crisp orchestral arrangement, her vocals slide over the melody with just the right balance of intimacy and detachment.

The Mandel-led ensemble lays a plush yet uncluttered foundation, with prominent brass notes from players like John Anderson and Jack Sheldon adding subtle bursts of color without overshadowing O’Day’s smooth delivery.

Unlike Holiday’s haunted rendition, which carried the weight of wartime uncertainty, O’Day’s take feels polished, even breezy, with its swing-era dynamics firmly intact.

The 1961 recording captures a moment when jazz vocals increasingly found themselves under the microscope of larger orchestral settings, testing whether tradition and evolution could coexist without snuffing each other out.

While the track radiates technical precision, some might find it a touch distant, as if O’Day is holding the listener just out of emotional reach, which perhaps reflects her famously cool demeanor both on and off stage.

Nevertheless, it’s an excellent crystallization of her versatility, bringing a modern sheen to a wartime classic without losing sight of its original charm.

This version of “Trav’lin’ Light,” seated snugly in one of O’Day’s more critically admired albums, serves as both a time capsule and a reimagination of jazz sensibilities at the dawn of the 1960s, a bridge between bygone swing and contemporary cool.

Lifted from : Anita O’Day begins the recording of ‘Trav’lin’ Light’ an album for Verve (1961)

12 . Elis Regina – Tatuagem

Elis Regina’s “Tatuagem” carries the unmistakable weight of Chico Buarque’s lyricism and Ruy Guerra’s theatrical flair, merging their talents with Regina’s unparalleled vocal mastery.

Originally penned for the controversial stage play *Calabar* in the early ’70s, the song transcends its origins, later finding a new home in Regina’s pivotal 1976 album, *Falso Brilhante*.

The piece adopts the perspective of an infatuated lover, their words as etched and evocative as the tattoo they long to become, a metaphor as permanent as it is intimate.

Musically, the arrangement sways with the melancholic elegance characteristic of Brazilian MPB, crafting a soundscape where understated instrumentation allows Elis’s voice to soar and linger.

Her delivery alternates between restraint and unflinching passion, forging a performance that’s both tender and confrontational, like an unguarded confession laid bare.

This isn’t merely an ode to romantic fixation but a deep cultural timestamp, capturing the creative defiance that flourished during Brazil’s military dictatorship era.

The album itself, heralded as one of Brazil’s most influential, extends the song’s impact, grounding it not just as an artistic achievement but as a piece of larger, weightier histories.

“Tatuagem” stakes its claim as an anthem of longing, a poetic dialogue between permanence and ephemerality, wrapped in Regina’s astoundingly raw yet measured phrasing.

Lifted from : Elis Regina – A Rainha Regina