It is always inspiring to read an academic text unafraid of transgressing the conventions and expectations of academic writing by resisting the temptation to align its scholarliness to a formulaic treatment of the subject, dominated by what appears to be an overtly confident authorial voice guiding the reader through a reliable, yet singular narrative. Instead, in Dusty! Queen of the Postmods Annie J. Randall allows her subject to come alive and be examined through a non-linear series of accounts which in many ways echo Dusty's own resistance to being pinned down as ‘anything’ via her continuous transgression of multiple discursive attempts to make her a signifier for a particular set of iconic traits.

In addition to referencing some of the content, namely Dusty's popularity among British mod subculture and the theme of the non-essential identity, the title provides a hint to the book's theoretical lineage and a methodological approach – a form of critique informed by a postmodernist ethos where ‘historical source study, musical analysis, ethnography, and cultural theory’ (p. 5) can co-exist as primary methods of research. Thematically organised in four substantial chapters, the book foregrounds the following themes: pastiche and hybridity in Dusty's style and sound with associated concepts of authenticity and self-transformation; musical and cultural exchange between the US ‘gospelism’ and the UK ‘Britpopism’; the structure and the conventions of the ‘pop aria’ characteristic of Dusty's musical output; and finally an examination and evaluation of the four prominent discourses of Dusty: self-discovery, virtuosity, identity and legacy.

The thread tying all of the above themes together is Randall's contestation that Dusty the performer is symbolic of the postmodern identity which incorporates self-invention, transformation (in both style and sound), pastiche and performativity, ultimately leading to a multiplicity of discourses, each attempting to ascribe her with meaning by placing her within the confines of gender, musical genre, sexual orientation, nationality and class. Such forms of placement and signification an ‘ever-changing Dusty’ successfully evades.

In Chapter one, Dusty's Hair, Randall addresses the transgressive artificiality of Dusty's look through the notion of female camp, viewing it as an exposé of ‘the material, constructed, and highly constricted nature of mid-sixties, white, middle – class femininity’ (p. 16). The existing discourses of Dusty's affinity towards, and appropriation of elements of soul tradition are extended through an outline of ‘dustifying’ – a practice by which Dusty succeeds in putting her own stamp on songs she performs while adhering to the tradition (p. 28). Furthermore, Dusty's musical engagement – which extends beyond being just an interpreter of a song, into making a contribution to the choice of the material, vocal arrangements, recording and production processes – is discussed. Through her analysis of Dusty's recordings and performances, Randall points out the ways in which important musical hierarchical boundaries are broken, for example, through the employment of the characteristic ‘call-and-response’ between Dusty's lead voice and those of her backing singers. Chapter two, Migrations of Soul, broadens the context by introducing the theme of cultural and musical exchange between the US and the UK. It discusses ‘migrations’ of gospel and soul as markers of black authenticity, facilitated by performers like Madeline Bell, as well as dealing with the British Mods' take up of the black sound that signified ‘their oppositional stance to cultural authority’ (p. 45). Randall discusses Dusty's and Bell's musical collaborations, demonstrating the extent of musical exchange taking place; mostly through Dusty's increased use of ‘gospelisms’ (vocal, rather than bodily), but also by Bell's adoption of ‘Britpopisms’ (p. 47). This chapter additionally deals with the making and reception of ‘the soul dream’ Dusty in Memphis album, examining the possible reasons for its initial commercial failure, including audience fragmentation in the late 1960s and politicisation of music.

The theme of ‘dustifying’ is continued in the discussion of the pop aria to which Randall dedicates Chapter three, Soul + Melodrama = The 1960s Pop Aria. Defined as a blend of soul sound and an ‘aesthetic of excess’ characteristic of melodrama, the pop aria relies on musical compression and abbreviation of a range of musical devices to a three-minute pop song format. Practised by composers such as Bacharach and Raymonde, the pop aria's musical compression required musical encoding of the meaning that the contemporary listener was able to decode with ease, thus drawing on the effects of operatic devices that penetrated the mass media of film, television and advertising. Dusty's role extended to an employment of melodramatic gestures that complemented the narrative/lyrics and her vocal interpretation. Figures and illustrations provided to support Randall's argument in this chapter are particularly useful and illuminating. Randall dedicates some space to the analysis of the lyrics by pointing out textual qualities of the pop aria, such as its use of metaphor, the significance of the point of view, and non-specificity of the content (in order for the listener to fill the gaps, that is, offer their own interpretation of the meaning). However, most of the analytical labour in this chapter is dedicated to the examination of the structure and workings of the pop aria with the aim of explaining how certain effects are achieved. Perhaps it is my limited familiarity with the music theory, coupled with the demand to listen to nine songs whose opening seconds are interrogated (as ‘establishing shots’), which made me look forward to the next, more ethnographic chapter. However, the well selected examples from Dusty's repertoire and Randall's succinct analysis informed by the music theory could be very well utilised in popular music teaching practice.

In the introductory sections of the book Randall cautions the reader that there will be a deliberate shift in language and tone in Chapter three, due to her intention to write about the music from the point of view of a fan. For me, such a shift occurs more prominently in Chapter four, Dusty as Discourse, and not due to Randall's ‘intervention’ but rather through lack of it. This most ethnographic of all chapters relies on numerous accounts provided by Dusty's peers, collaborators, friends, journalists and fans, thus situating Dusty at the intersection of diverse discourses. Guided by the ‘mother discourse’ of Dusty's self-discovery, discourses of her virtuosity, identity and legacy create a picture of a complex and enthralling – yet shifting – identity. Moreover, they provide a grounding for Dusty as an icon, allowing her to embody ‘depth and feeling’ due to her life and career enfolding alongside personal narratives (supported by the primary sources such as photographs and letters) that constitute the lives of her fans. Often marginalised voices of drag and tribute acts are incorporated in the discussion, their inclusion being welcomed by someone like me who first became aware of Dusty when attending a Wayne/Jayne County gig – an event that was to become my Dusty thread.

Through an examination of different sites where Dusty's identity is constructed and performed, such as her look, her sound, her cultural heritage, her legacy, and the popular discourses that surround them, Randall identifies and closes important gaps in the existing biographical depictions of Dusty Springfield as a 1960s icon turned tragic heroine (e.g. O'Brien 2000; Valentine and Wickham 2000). The book's incorporation of many different voices coupled with its reliance on a variety of research methodologies may, for a scholarly purist, be a sign of the book's weakness, while at the same time demonstrating its breadth and depth to an interdisciplinarian. Ultimately, it made me unearth and dust off an old Dusty in Memphis vinyl.