Talkin' through again -- all the rich, ripe goodness of Pearl in the world. And darlins, goodness is where it at -- a city Sunday (""left alone to think itself out""), parents and children (her late mother, her adopted children), brotherhood (""Dear boy. . . I'm aligned with all humanity""). But there are gray days -- the shock of illness, deaths, the rudeness of fans, ""the feeling of being the last car/ On a slow train/ Going uphill."" Miss Bailey is apt to burst into verse from time to time, which is a visual change at least from the rolling recitative. And there are mystic moments when a youngster in the audience feels the Spirit or when some automatic writing clues her in on another aspect of Love. Run it on a double track with the slurred diction and the incomparable manner -- for the compleat Pearlie Mae experience.