DreamLand

It's hard to believe that it's close on nine years since I reviewed Libby York's last album, Memoirs. I raved about that one and, with this release, my enthusiasm hasn't waned.

A soft, sensuous voice that sends shivers down my spine the way Peggy Lee's does when I listen to her classic Black Coffee album. DreamLand is totally different, yet in its own way, achieves the same degree of perfection.

Although the songs are a mix of the familiar and the not so familiar, York makes them all sound brand new. Even the covers of songs by, among others, Mel, Peggy, Blossom, June, Jeri and Dakota come out as pure Libby. Such is her ability to stamp her identity on a lyric.

Amazingly, Libby York didn't start singing professionally until she was 35 years of age. Now you can get your abacuses (abaci?) out if you wish but, what's the point? The voice is timeless!

Of course, behind every great singer there's a band and she couldn't do better than having Napoleon, Whitaker and Hall laying down the chords and the rhythm.

I'd suggest playing it in bed but, despite the title, you wouldn't want to sleep in case you missed any of the joyous moments.