I have a deep and abiding affection for Dusty Springfield that is based on just one album (her most famous — Dusty in Memphis) and a handful of singles.
Springfield did her best work in the mid- to late-60s but for some reason her music transports me mentally to the 50s, with visions of poodle skirts and bobby socks and slow dances in a high school gym. There is an innocence in the grandiosity of these songs, a sense that music really can heal the world (or your broken heart).
Meet Me In Montauk 