by Rex Reed Honey-drippin’, honey-sippin’ Peggy Lee seems to turn out almost as many discs as Nancy Wilson, so many it is difficult to keep track of them all. But for my taste, they’re all a welcome relief from the slush that piles up at my door every month. A[…]

author unknown You had plenty money nineteen twenty-two; You let other women make a fool of you; Why don’t you do right, like some other men do? It has been a quarter of a century since a shy blonde our of Jamestown, North Dakota (real name: Norma Egstrom) sang that[…]

by Daphne Kraft With her eyes half closed and her head tilted beneath a cascade of champagne-colored tresses, Peggy Lee can break open a piñata of songs as hot as chili or as cool as autumn rain. Now that autumn is here, she is once again on deck at Manhattan’s[…]

by Peter Reilly There is a certain sort of praise which, if voiced often enough, can do oblique damage to performing artists of recognized stature: “Peggy Lee? Oh, she’s great!” Or, as a friend said recently, “As long as they write songs, Peggy Lee can sing them. She can sing[…]

by Robert Salmaggi We’re gonna throw the book at Peggy Lee. When this gold-topped gal is being caressed with a baby-blue spot, and lofting the inimitable Lee sound, you find yourself admiring the letter perfect precision of her act. The lead-in cues, the accord between vocalist and band, the split-second[…]

by Charles Champlin I am absolutely persuaded that amid the crackling thunder of the city in flames, some Roman lover turned to his lady, gestured at Nero and said, “He’s playing our song.” We’ve never been exactly sure what our song was, fire sirens in the rain or my scratchy[…]