Then there's Barbara Morrison, who always delivers when she comes to town. If the American could not reach Harrod's emotional intensity, she has other strings to her bow. Spinning yarns and sharing jokes, she inhabits a stage like it's her living room, with each audience member a bosom buddy.

She sledgehammers the blues into submission with a voice as big as a church while giving us a wink, some lip, and a jutting hip. She also caresses a ballad with tenderness and superlative musicality, her earthy warmth diluting any.