
Sadly for buyers of this CD, the operative word is "was."
Some singers mellow with age and present you with new and delightful variations of their unique gifts -- Ella, Sarah, Aretha, to name a few.
Etta is in the other category -- you could call it the Billie Holiday category.
At 62 years of age, Etta sounds as if she's been chain-smoking Chesterfield plain-ends since the day she cut "Fool that I am." Her range is non-existent, her intonation is poor, her delivery is flaccid, and she sounds -- I'm sorry, but there's no other way to put it -- old and tired.
The band, however, is great -- but their energy only underscores Etta's fatigue.
This album makes me feel the way I do when I see the also once-great Roberto Duran in the ring: depressed.