In contrast to Sinatra's In The Wee Small Hours this collection of sad and slow songs gives me what Frank could not: empathy. Billie Holiday's extraordinary voice communicates a depth of feeling, a nonchalant despair that makes it easy to accept her sadness. It's not needy or grandiose like Wee Small Hours. The horns are mellow and well rounded. The strings are controlled and stand well back from that line where the swooping and swirling starts to make you feel dizzy.
Yes, all of these songs sound the same but a good album is like a box of chocolates. Now, before I tag that simile, I'm going to take issue with the character who most famously likened something to a box of chocolates: Forest Gump's mum. "You never know what you gonna get."
She also said, "Stupid is as stupid does." You know what stupid doesn't do? Stupid doesn't read the little card you get in a box of chocolates that tells you what you're gonna get!
Anyway, a good album is like a box of chocolates. You always want another chocolate.
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Opinions are like arseholes. They're never wrong. But I'd rather you express one than be the other :-)