It's Billie Holiday's immortal whisper, which Frank O'Hara eulogized in his poem "The Day Lady Died," that engraves her signature firmly on the tombstone of musical history. Holiday's lush, silky, and slightly faded voice drapes itself around the room every time someone puts on one of her records. Indeed, if there had to be one female jazz singer out of the many greats (Ella, Etta and Etta, Sarah, Nina) whom it's imperative to remember, it would probably have to be Billie Holiday.

Perhaps it's because of her 1939 rendition of the startling protest anthem "Strange Fruit" - unfortunately not included on this compilation, as it was released on Commodore rather than Columbia which has been given so much credit as one of the seeds of the fight for civil rights. Even if "Strange Fruit" didn't have so many vast social implications, with its imagery of the bodies of lynched blacks, it would still have been a necessary stopping point for the development of Holiday's signature style: the low, subtle, longing ballad which forces some to hold their breath in amazement, others to weep, and some to swallow a deep, otherworldly silence which settles and forms a brick of quiet and painful thoughts. Perhaps Billie's fame is because of those signature songs, which could melt a tin heart into a pure state of longing. Or perhaps, the best reason of all for Billie Holiday's fame is simply because she is Billie Holiday.

There is a supernatural quality to Billie Holiday, which comes both from her personal legend (an alcoholic and drug addict who died at the age of 44, a woman searching for love whose first annulled marriage was to a suspected pimp, who was rumored to be involved in a relationship with Orson Welles and to be bisexual), as well as the spooky otherworld found in songs such as the aforementioned "Strange Fruit," "I Cover the Waterfront," "God Bless the Child," and "Gloomy Sunday." It leads to the easy conclusion that Lady Day was meant for fame.

Of course, God Bless the Child features more than just the aforementioned earth-shattering style of Holiday songs, but gives us some old-movie glitz and glam nightclub feel as well, with tracks such as "I Wish on the Moon," "Miss Brown to You," and "What a Little Moonlight Can Do." It's easy to fantasize about a charming red velvet bar draped with smoke and crowded with beautiful people generating those translucent drapes, listening to music, and sipping highballs during songs such as these.

But it's just as easy to enjoy this music here, in the present, because now is the time to celebrate music that makes a person actually feel, that drips with true sincerity and causes the world to regret. How many people are truly mourning the retirement of Britney Spears, with her vaudeville sexuality and bucket of cotton candy lyrics? I can't think of anyone who is counting down the days until the Pop Princess returns to the stage and the recording studio - at least not anyone who isn't either below the age of 15 or a record company executive. But think of the number of people today who are still thirsty for Billie Holiday. It's a good amount, but there should be even more. Now is the time to celebrate Billie Holiday. So run to your nearest record store, and buy this once out of print, classic compilation.

Reviewed by Megan Giddings