Match a sound that engrossing to top-rank material, brilliantly ornamental arrangements and a singer decked out like a Christmas tree, and you've got a certified legend on your hands - one well served by the new Dusty Springfield boxed set. Coraling 77 songs on three CDs, the collection makes an informed case for Dusty's value far beyond the 11 U.S. hits she scored in her 35-year career.

Most of her chart appearances were made between 1964 and 1969 beginning with the bubblegum dream "I Only Want To Be With You" and culminating in the creamy soul bauble "A Brand New Me." Dusty made a brief comeback in '87 with her cameo on the Pet Shop Boys' No. 2 smash "What Have I Done To Deserve This?" Happily, she made a more consistent commercial impression in her native England, where she was born in 1939.

The singer's first quasi-hit opens the set with a flourish, a 1960 [sic] cover of the country song "Silver Threads and Golden Needles," cut with her brother Tom and Tim Feild as folk trio The Springfields. By 1963, Dusty went solo and found both an arresting look for herself and a new sonic muse. Many people have remarked on the former: a near parody of the mid-'60s look, with Dusty boasting the queen of all beehives plus enough eyeliner to re-tar the New York State Thruway.

Fewer people have commented on the specific historic value of her music. In fact, Dusty did as much to bring U.S. soul to Great Britain as bands like the Stones did to import American blues. For a while, Dusty functioned as a a kind of one-woman English Motown, offering equally sterling R&B hits like "I'll Try Anything" or a great take on Carole King's "Oh No, Not My Baby."

At the same time, Dusty served as British ambassador for the music of Burt Bacharach. Like an overseas Dionne Warwick, Dusty served up her versions of such Bacharach epics as "Wishin' and Hopin'," "You Don't Have To Say You Love Me" [Note: This song was not penned by either Burt Bacharach or Hal David. The author may have been thinking of "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself"] and "Anyone Who Had a Heart." Dusty's voice isn't as drop-dead elegant as Dionne's, but it also isn't as aloof, giving her versions more ache.

The singer claims she did lots of her own arrangements for the early hits, turning them into aural souffles. In songs like "I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself" every sound seems to chime, while "Who Can I Turn To?" escalates to a crescendo tumultuous enough to herald the end of the world.

The more sultry Bacharach recordings, like "The Look of Love" or "Anyone Who Had A Heart," conjure up not just a whole era, but specific physical surroundings. You could practically decorate a room to them - highlighted by kicky throw-cushions, swanky chaises and sarcastic ottomans, forming the ultimate swinging bachelor pad of the pre-hippy '60s.

Because Dusty's hits cemented her in that time and place, "hipper" rock fans shunned her for years - embracing only her more raw R & B classic, 1969's "Dusty in Memphis" (which treated her more like Aretha Franklin). No fewer than six tracks from that classic turn up here, including the unavoidable "Son of a Preacher Man."

But the set goes way beyond the obvious. Some of its best tracks have never had a hearing in this country, including a convincing 1972 take on the three-hanky weepie "Yesterday When I Was Young." plus a 1968 version of Randy Newman's "I Think It's Gonna Rain Today" that captures the full irony of the lyric.

Dusty can even ring meaning from drivel like Barry Manilow's "Sandra," a pseudo-feminist soaper. Dusty makes this kind of schmaltz real by the context of her career - she always played love's doormat. Only Connie Francis had her heart broken in more places.

Yet Dusty's authority comes through in more than just her honed persona. It also rings through the command of her voice. What other singer could combine the power of Barbra Streisand, the grace of Julie London and the soul of Martha Reeves? That Dusty can explains why her songs will always appeal to anyone who ever had a heart.

Jim Farber
The Daily News, September 7, 1997