Singer Dominique Eade’s gruesome collection of songs associated with jazz vocalists June Christy and Chris Connor is less a tribute than a nescient affront. In the ’50s, following tenures with Stan Kenton’s band, Christy and Connor established themselves as solo artists. Critical opinion was mixed about the merits of these husky-voiced blondes, but jazz buffs adored them. Christy’s sense of time was rather stiff, but she brought a wistful, tremulous quality to ballads. Connor wasn’t overly concerned with lyrics but had (and still has) a striking, cello-toned voice, and she swung like a woman possessed. Eade incorporates both singers’ liabilities while absorbing none of their appealing qualities. Her colorless voice is painfully out of tune throughout the 13-song program, and her phrasing is, at times, grotesquely unmusical. She’s oblivious to the emotional content of her material and intermittently mangles lyrics. Eade transforms Christy’s signature tune, “Something Cool,” an extended Blanche Duboisish dramatic monologue by a fading belle down on her luck, into a stolid screed, truncating the song’s recitative interlude and mixing in bits of an unrelated Christy recording, “Come to the Party.” Her stumbling, tone-deaf, voice-and-bass “Tea for Two”—in a racing treatment inexplicably pinched from Anita O’Day, who preceded Christy and Connor with Kenton’s band—could serve as a vocal clinic example of how not to sing jazz. Limp arrangements that entomb saxophonist Benny Golson and vibraphonist Steve Nelson, gassy, self-indulgent liner notes, and unbecoming glamour-girl photography complete a painfully misconceived package.—Joel E. Siegel