A couple years ago I decided that "Son of a Preacher Man" was my deserted island song—the song that I'd choose to listen to if I could have only one; like if I was stuck under a hatch in the Dharma Initiative's Swan Station, I would have started my mornings with Dusty instead of Mama Cass. I've got no real sentimental attachment to the song, but it's great and soulful, and look at the way she can deliver it without more effort than it takes her to swing those satin sleeves around.
More blue-eyed soul:
Queen, I'd be lost in a state of misery without your peroxide beehive to guide me.
