So why Doris? What is it about this mid–century star that so captivated a teenager coming of age in northeastern Pennsylvania? ‘I was initially attracted to her optimism and her gaiety,” McKay says. “Her approach to life is irresistible.” But as the young prodigy continued exploring, she discovered Day’s sunny smiles hid reservoirs of strength, with the star remaining “America’s sweetheart” through a behind–the–scenes horror show: abusive husbands, personal trials and financial calamity. McKay quotes Greta Garbo to summarize Day’s mysterious appeal: “Anyone who has a continuous smile on (her) face conceals a toughness that is almost frightening.” “It’s really incredible that something on a major label hasn’t been done in tribute to Doris Day before, because she’s made so many records,” McKay marvels. “It seemed like her film career overshadowed her music, and there’s so much there.” Nellie plays several instruments on the album, and used ‘old–time’ mics to evoke a wide range of moods (all lovingly engineered and mixed by recording maestro James Farber). Since her audacious double–album debut Get Away From Me, Nellie McKay has been a creative dynamo, releasing Pretty Little Head and Obligatory Villagers, making her Broadway debut (as Polly Peachum in The Threepenny Opera), performing onscreen (in PS I Love You) and currently writing music and lyrics for the premiere production of Election: The Musical.

Since her emergence on the scene, McKay has been known as an outspoken and fierce advocate for animal rights, feminism, civil rights and other deeply felt progressive ideals. But at first glance the choice of material on Normal as Blueberry Pie is devoid of pointed statements. However, as McKay notes, “There are so many ways to be an advocate.” And while the messages are subtle, they’re certainly present. “The people most in need of Doris Day are the cynics,” McKay observes. “She’s such a breath of fresh air.” McKay also scoffs at the notion that offering an album of faithfully rendered selections from the Great American Songbook means that she’s lost her edge. There’s nothing wrong with beauty, she asserts. “I’d love it to be a kind of lullaby,” she says. “I don’t mind if people fall asleep to this record because it’s very hard to fall asleep sometimes. We’re so over–stimulated. You don’t want to have to work yourself to exhaustion. You don’t want to have to take some pharmaceutical. Why not listen to some music and relax?” Exasperating, exhilarating, and altogether uncategorizable, this fourth album again showcases Nellie’s fresh take on music and life with a curtsy to Doris, a nod to convention, and a unique twist all her own.