It’s the birthday today of the late, great British pop/soul vocalist Dusty Springfield (1939-1999). If still with us in this life, she would turn 86 today.
Dusty’s career spanned over three decades, and included numerous hits, including “I Only Want to Be With You,” “I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself,” “Little By Little,” “You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me,” “I Close My Eyes and Count to Ten,” “The Look of Love,” “Son of a Preacher Man,” “What Have I Done to Deserve This?” (with the Pet Shop Boys), and “In Private.” She is widely regarded as one of greatest female vocalists of the twentieth century, with a solo career that began in 1963 and continued to 1995, four years before her death from breast cancer in 1999.
My interest in and admiration for Dusty is well documented here at The Wild Reed, most notably in Soul Deep, one of my very first posts.
Other previous posts worth investigating, especially if you’re new to Dusty, are Dusty Springfield: Queer Icon, which features an excerpt from Laurence Cole’s book, Dusty Springfield: In the Middle of Nowhere; Celebrating Dusty (2017), which features an excerpt from Patricia Juliana Smith’s insightful article on Dusty’s “camp masquerades”; Celebrating Dusty (2013), which features excerpts from Annie J. Randall’s book, Dusty!: Queen of the Postmods; Remembering Dusty, my 2009 tribute to Dusty on the tenth anniversary of her death; and Remembering Dusty, 20 Years On, my 2019 tribute on the twentieth anniversary of her death.
And, of course, off-site there’s my website dedicated to Dusty, Woman of Repute (currently only accessible through the Internet archive service, The Way Back Machine).
My website’s name is derived from Dusty’s 1990 album Reputation, and as I explain in Soul Deep, it was this album that introduced me not only to Dusty’s music but also to her life and journey – much of which resonated deeply with me. Indeed, my identification with aspects of Dusty’s journey played an important role in my coming out as a gay man.
Above: Dusty, amidst the flowing streams, standing stones and picturesque Celtic ruins of County Clare and the Galway coast for the making of the music video for “Roll Away,” a track from her last album, 1995’s A Very Fine Love. The liner notes of the 2016 2-disc expanded collector’s edition of A Very Fine Love include my reflections on this beautiful song, reflections which are also shared in the previous Wild Reed post, Time and the River.
In remembering and celebrating Dusty on the 86th anniversary of her birth, I share Ben Forrest’s appreciation of Dusty, an appreciation published earlier today at the Far Out website.
Musical history is chock full of hopeful artists who have been lured into the industry only to be chewed up and spat out. However, a select few artists remained unfettered by the aggression of the industry, staying true to themselves and their unwavering artistic aims. Dusty Springfield was one such figure, consistently dancing to the beat of her own drum and refusing to bend to the wants and desires of record company executives, even if her defiance caused her music career to nosedive.
Springfield burst onto the scene in 1963 with the release of her debut single “I Only Want to Be With You.” Although she had previously gained notoriety with The Lana Sisters and, subsequently, The Springfields, the peroxide-blonde revolutionary was always destined for stardom in her own right. Her early releases were typified by catchy pop songs and chart successes, but the vocalist soon exemplified her innate individuality.
As her discography progressed, the singer affirmed her defiance and individuality with tracks like “You Don’t Own Me,” with which her powerful voice denounced the popular patriarchal attitudes of the time. She was also an ardent supporter of Motown Records and the Black soul artists coming from America, who initially failed to gain much traction in the UK. What’s more, she staunchly opposed apartheid in South Africa, refusing to perform for segregated audiences and being kicked out of the nation as a result.
In other words, Dusty Springfield was a true original, driven by her own desires and attitudes rather than the allure of commercial success and record executives. This attitude served Springfield well until she was torn down in a joint effort by the music industry and the tabloid press. In 1970, she told The Evening Standard, “I know I’m perfectly as capable of being swayed by a girl as by a boy,” during an interview.
This apparent admission of bisexuality was akin to career suicide within the oppressive society of 1970s Britain. Although her brave discussion of sexuality had provided a sense of hope and representation for the LGBTQ+ community during a time in which homosexuals were treated abhorrently – homosexuality was only legalised in the UK in 1967 – it gave record company executives ample motivation to shelve Springfield’s recording career.
She continued to record material throughout the 1970s, but aside from a minor hit with “Spooky” in 1970, these recordings failed to gain much attention. As the vocalist recalled to Mojo in 1995, “I just plodded on making rather unsuccessful pop records in the States. Then I didn’t do it any more because I hated it.”
Explaining the reason for this lack of success, Springfield explained, “Every time I made a record, the company got bought by another company, and there was a new budget that I wasn’t part of.” Adding, “I thought, ‘If you’re going to buy this place out, giving my entire promotional budget to Yoko Ono, then I’m sorry, I don’t see the point. I’ll go and prune the roses. I’m not going to care so much that I destroy myself.’”
Continuing, Springfield shared, “I went with management that saw me as a ‘shan-toozie’, as Variety would have it, and I did the nightclub circuit. I pulled it off sometimes, but I was uncomfortable with it because it was . . . Vikki Carr. I didn’t have the stamina to do one night in Long Island, then the next you’re in Des Moines. Hats off to Engelbert if he wants to do it, fine, and he will always be well off.”
Springfield concluded, “But I am a maverick and will probably never be terribly well off. I get bored too fast.” Although her career during the 1970s might have been a sore subject for the vocalist, her unwillingness to conform to the industry’s expectations of her perfectly summarises why she was so important both as an artist and activist.
She might never have made the big bucks of her contemporaries, but the fact that she was urged back into music during the 1980s by the likes of Pet Shop Boys is reflective of her pioneering influence over future generations of musicians.
I conclude this special post by sharing two very different recordings by Dusty, both of which are from 1967 – “What’s It Gonna Be?” and “The Look of Love.” Both songs are highlighted in the accompanying excerpt from Lucy O’Brien’s book, Dusty: A Biography of Dusty Springfield.
Success often comes in unlikely quarters. Although “What’s It Gonna Be,” an uptempo orchestral soul number that foreshadowed The Three Degrees, flopped, it was picked up collectors on the Northern soul scene and disguised as an imported soul cut by “Patti Austin.” It became a northern cult hit, featured regularly on the playlist at Britain’s top all-nighter, The Torch in Stoke-on-Trent. Due to its unavailability, “What’s It Gonna Be?” was heavily bootlegged until [Dusty’s record company] Philips reissued it in 1974 when the Northern soul scene was briefly the toast of the London media.
Dusty was adept at moving from one end of the pop spectrum to the other. As well as making cult soul hits, she was also heard on mainstream movie soundtracks. In America, for instance, she released the evocative, laid-back Bacharach composition “The Look of Love” for the soundtrack to spoof James Bond movie Casino Royale. When it was released, “The Look of Love” was a U.S. hit and has since become one of her most popular and oft-played songs.
– Lucy O’Brien
Excerpted from Dusty: A Biography of Dusty Springfield
(Revised and Updated Edition)
Michael O’Mara Books Ltd., 2019
p. 117-118
Excerpted from Dusty: A Biography of Dusty Springfield
(Revised and Updated Edition)
Michael O’Mara Books Ltd., 2019
p. 117-118
For more of Dusty at The Wild Reed, see:
• Soul Deep
• Dusty Springfield: Queer Icon
• Remembering Dusty Springfield’s “Daring” 1979 Gay-Affirming Song
• Remembering Dusty, 25 Years On
• Remembering Dusty, 20 Years On
• Remembering and Celebrating Dusty – 2023 | 2022 | 2021 | 2020 | 2019
• Remembering Dusty (2018)
• Celebrating Dusty (2017)
• Celebrating Dusty (2013)
• Remembering Dusty (2009)
• Remembering Dusty – 14 Years On
• Remembering Dusty – 11 Years On
• The Other “Born This Way”
• Time and the River
• Remembering a Great Soul Singer
• A Song and Challenge for 2012
• The Sound of Two Decades Colliding
• Home to Myself