And Dusty Springfield, too - unquestionably the most overlooked and under-appreciated of this year's batch of inductees. Riding the very earliest wave of the British Invasion sound, the breathy, blond beehived Springfield scored her first hit with "I Only Want To Be With You" back in 1964.

I saw Springfield in concert once. It was at a small midtowm club in New York City in 1981. I went by myself because I couldn't find anyone else who wanted to go with me, but I certainly wasn't about to pass up the opportunity.

Springfield was hardly at the height of her popularity then, and the nightclub was far from packed. But Springfield was nothing less than magnificent. There was nary a hint of her legendary stage fright. She was confident, seductive and supremely soulful - Peggy Lee, Marlenr Dietrich and Aretha Franklin all rolled into one sequined package.

Of course, she sang hits like the lush "The Look Of Love" and the scorching "Son-Of-A Preacher Man," but most deeply etched into my memory was "Sandra," a Barry Manilow ballad that Dusty transformed into a monsterously dramatic, tour de force tale of suburban housewife heartache.

How could she bring such a deep well of emotion to a Barry Manilow song? Because she knew how to inhabit her songs. Just listen to her all-time classic album, Dusty in Memphis. It's just been re-released by Rhino Records in a deluxe edition with 14 bonus tracks. Ironically, it was on my desk last Wednesday morning having just arrived in the mail when I heard that Dusty Springfield had died the night before. After a long battle with breast cancer, her golden voice had finally fallen silent.

Greg Haymes
The Times Union (Albany, NY),
March 11, 1999