A grand performance from Dorothy Moore: one which hearkens back to times when I was a kid. When Mrs. Jones –my grandmother’s housekeeper (and Addie’s namesake)– would settle into the driver’s seat of my grandmother’s Oldsmobile my brother and I would thrill at the moment she punched the preset on the radio away from my grandmother’s easy listening to one of the AM Soul stations out of Norfolk. It was our habit to sing along, sometimes making up stupid-ass lyrics as kids will. With such a name as hers you can bet we knew every word of Billy Paul’s ‘Me & Mrs. Jones’
‘Misty Blue’ was different though. Mrs. Jones sang it like she meant it. As distinctive as Dorothy Moore’s performance was –as ripe for musical parody in the ears of a six year old– Mrs. Jones’ feeling for it precluded all but the best-intentioned approach to the magnificent, soaring chorus.