Springfield, who died Tuesday at age 59, was not a groundbreaker. She did not set any sales records. And she never became a superstar in the United States, although her fellow Brits adored her with a passion. In the end, however, she will be remembered as one of the seminal female performers of her time - a defiant mix of glamour and impeccable musicianship.

On one record, she could belt out a party tune like a Detroit soul shouter. On another, she could be a kittenish ingenue or a backwoods girl with a Memphis spirit. She tried on musical personalities the way some actresses try on different accents. In that sense, she was the Meryl Streep of the recording studio, a woman whose class, consistency and skill were the threads that linked her performances together.

Americans first became aware of the woman born Mary Isobel Catherine O'Brien in the early flood of the "British Invasion." In fact, one week after the Beatles first hit the US charts in 1964 with "I Want To Hold You Hand," Springfield debuted with "I Only Want To Be With You."

Like most of the British records that crossed the ocean, Springfield's first single was an amalgam of American styles: A brassy horn section announced the song, while a gleeful rhythm track thundered away beneath her smoky vocal. It may have been the best Motown record that Motown never made. She wailed on that track like someone who came of age singing in a gospel choir down South. But she was a Catholic-school girl from West Hampstead - hardly the birthplace of soul music.

Her affinity for African-American styles separated her from the other British female voices of the time. Petula Clark was more famous and Lulu starred in To Sir With Love, but Springfield enjoyed greater credibility than any of her competitors.

However, she wasn't merely a white woman with a feel for soul sounds. "You Don't Have To Say You Love Me" (1966) was her biggest hit of the '60s, a florid Italian ballad that she sold with a robust flair. It probably would have been at home coming from Eydie Gorme or Connie Francis, but she made the tune her own.

The Burt Bacharach tune "The Look of Love" (1967) was Dusty all soft and dewy, a sensual come-on with a muted saxophone that became a lounge-music standard. When she delicately purred, "I can hardly wait to hold you, feel my arms around you," it was more overtly sexual than Madonna at her most brazen.

But the recording that earned her the greatest accolades was 1969's landmark album, Dusty in Memphis. It is considered one of the greatest pop discs ever recorded; Rolling Stone included it on a list of the most influential albums of all time.

For the recording, the singer traveled to Tennessee and worked with such studio wizards as Bobby Emmons and Reggie Young, guys who usually played behind Aretha Franklin and Wilson Pickett. The end result was a warm collection of songs, flavored with honey and spliced with peppery grit. Dusty in Memphis offered loose, inspired performances on a series of songs that were all remarkably high-quality. The album's defining moment was "Son-Of-A Preacher Man," a crackling backwoods memory that showed off her whispery yet willful way with a lyric. Her reading of the tune so impressed Aretha that the Queen of Soul later covered the song. Still, Springfield's version was the definitive one, the recording Quentin Tarantino later used to great effect in Pulp Fiction.

Drugs and drink muted Springfield's career in the '70s and for most of the '80s, but it did little to harm her reputation. When British techno-pop duo the Pet Shop Boys sought a female voice for their single, "What Have I Done To Deserve This?", hers was the one they wanted. They lured the singer out of seclusion for the disc, which reached No. 2 in England and America in 1987 - the biggest [US] chart success of her career.

She followed up her comeback with more Pet Shop Boys collaborations. "Nothing Has Been Proved," the theme from the 1989 film Scandal, became a British hit single, as did the storming disco track "In Private".

The latter title seemed particularly appropriate. That same year, journalist Lucy O'Brien's (no relation) Dusty was published, a comprehensive look at the singer's career that delved into her personal life, discussing her battles with weight and her sexual identity. But Springfield refused to comment on the book's content and declined to meet with the author.

The cancer that ultimately killed Springfield also doused her last chance for mainstream success. Along with Daryl Hall, she recorded "Wherever Would I Be?", a sweeping ballad that was used as the theme to Sandra Bullock's popular film While You Were Sleeping. But her illness quelled promotion of the single, and the 1995 song came and went with little fanfare.

Still, hits or not, Springfield's reputation grew. In the '90s, two box sets were issued, each devoted to her career. In December, she was honored as an Officer of the Order of the British Empire. In less than weeks, she is scheduled to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Sadly, great records live longer than great people. In Springfield's case the name may fade. But that wise, knowing voice, blithely reveling in memories about a seductive Son-of-a Preacher Man, will simply keep on singing.

Randy Cordova
The Arizona Republic
March 7, 1999