I first came across Blossom Dearie around fifteen years ago thanks to my dealings in the world of second hand vinyl. I had purchased a collection that heavily featured top drawer female vocalists, primarily from the sixties and seventies era. It is possible that I had noticed the name Blossom Dearie before that time, just as it is equally probable that I dismissed her as someone of no particular interest to me, especially if a routine glance at her place within the twentieth century canon identified a middle-of-the-road jazzer in the easy listening realm. My relationship with all forms of jazz has evolved over the past fifteen years to the extent that today I would not turn away without investigation any style the music offers as I am a far more enlightened jazz fan, fully aware of the music’s potential to elevate, surprise and delight. But I digress, back then a name like Blossom Dearie would have sparked my interest no more than a name like Roger Whittaker.

But there was an album by Blossom in that collection from 1970 on the Fontana label called ‘That’s Just The Way I Want To Be’ that I learned, as I priced the collection ready for sale, was worth in the £100+ region. This obviously did catch my attention because, knowing what I do about the reason certain albums from this golden era in recorded music rise to three figures in value, the chances are the music in those grooves was going to be worth a listen. That absolutely proved to be the case, it was immediately clear from the opening title track (which also opens this months playlist) that here was music displaying a folksy, psych-tinged majesty several planes removed from any predictable trad-jazz leanings I may have expected. Yes there are tracks that lean more towards the balladeer grain Dearie was known for, but the whole album flowed with a diversity and inventiveness, not to mention a singular style, all its own. It even ended with a funky little number called ‘I Like London In The Rain’ I later found is hotly sought after as a break beat sample source. As is always the case with rare records whose status is built around the genuine quality of the music, my original copy sold within hours of my listing it online although it did get added to my list of records I needed in my own collection at some future point.

That day has finally arrived this past month when I acquired the newly released Blossom Dearie box set ‘Discover Who I Am – The Fontana Years 1966-1970’ which includes as part of its six discs that same, complete 1970 album. But I have to say, my appreciation of Blossom has, thanks to this incredible set, now hit full bloom and landed as an out-and-out obsession. I love it when this happens, as I listened all the way through the hours of music feeling like it is not my usual kind of thing but becoming acutely aware that something in those recordings was absolutely hitting the spot. Blossom was going through an evolution herself during this period, launching upwards from a polished interpreter of song and a stunning pianist into an expressive artist nurturing a subtle songwriting talent of her own. That voice of hers was an often light, pure and childlike instrument in which she began to untap a unique understated power within her own compositions. However, her gifts for interpretation shine bright here too. For example her version of ‘Trains And Boats And Planes’ is, for my money, the definitive recording. Where the familiar Dionne Warwick hit version has an almost jaunty bounce to the production, Blossom devastatingly unlocks the pain in the song, the longing and the heartache at the departure of a loved one. You can feel the hurt, but gorgeously so, it is nothing short of a master class of performance, nuance and class; qualities that Blossom Dearie had in abundance. I do not believe these will be the last words I write about her.