Disappointment comes in all shapes, sizes and extremes, but when it comes to Guilty Pleasures (Columbia), the latest album by Barbra Streisand on which she is joined by one-time collaborator Barry Gibb, it is palatable and visceral. The worst thing about the album is that it’s hard to tell who is more out of touch with current musical trends and styles, Streisand or Gibb. From the ’50s doo-wop of “Come Tomorrow,” on which Gibb duets with Streisand, to the overblown ’80s wail of “Stranger In A Strange Land,” to the failed attempt at light Latin pop on “Hideaway,” I only wished that it wasn’t so, but Gibb and Streisand are guilty, and it’s not of giving pleasure. Of the songs that Gibb co-wrote with his sons Ashley and Stephen, “Without Your Love” (co-written with Ashley), is the most respectable and the one most worthy of Streisand, while “All The Children,” with its faux-Middle Eastern meets Eastern European lilt is the most embarrassing. Much to my surprise, it is the galloping dance track “Night Of My Life” that I found to be the most pleasurable track because it is the only one with a pulse. The lone vintage Bee Gees tune on the album, “(Our Love) Don’t Throw It All Away,” is an unexpected delight, and “Letting Go,” the ballad that closes the album, is almost worth the wait. In Streisand’s defense, her voice is in top form; if only the same could be said of the majority of the material.

In many ways, I honestly wish that the politically motivated Streisand would have recorded the album that Dolly Parton did on Those Were The Days (Sugar Hill), instead of Guilty Pleasures. Renowned for being outspoken when it comes to matters of a political nature, a collection of protest songs would seem to be just the thing to motivate Streisand and her devoted fans. It looks like Dolly and her amazing lineup of guest performers beat Streisand to the punch. Opening with the title track – on which Parton is joined by the song’s original singer, Mary Hopkin, as well as Porter Wagoner and the Grand Ole Opry Gang – the song has an undeniable klezmer kick. Acclaimed bluegrass revivalists Nickel Creek assist Parton, singing with renewed fervor, on “Blowin’ In The Wind.” A rich string plants the seeds for “Where Have All The Flowers Gone,” on which Parton, Norah Jones and Lee Ann Womack’s voices blend in a stunning manner. On perhaps the most breathtaking track, “Where Do The Children Play,” Parton is accompanied on acoustic guitar by the song’s composer, Yusuf Islam (Cat Stevens), and it’s hard not to be caught up in the emotion of the song, especially when she is joined by the children’s choir. The same emotional highpoint is achieved on the lushly orchestrated rendition of “Imagine,” on which Parton is accompanied by David Foster on piano. Parton wisely varies the mood, which can be experienced on her energetic reading of “Me and Bobby McGee,” where she is joined by the song’s creator, Kris Kristofferson; the bouncy interpretation of “Both Sides Now,” with Judy Collins and Rhonda Vincent; and the colorful version of “Crimson and Clover,” on which Parton teams up with Tommy James.

For that matter, Streisand might even have been better off teaming up with in-demand producer and songwriter Joe Henry in the same way that Bettye LaVette did on her chill-inducing comeback disc I’ve Got My Own Hell To Raise (Anti-). I have a special place in my heart for LaVette, whose late-’70s disco classic “Doin’ The Best That I Can,” was part of the soundtrack to my coming out. So were many of the songs of Joan Armatrading, for that matter, and it is to LaVette’s credit that she took a chance by covering “Down To Zero,” and that she claims the song as her own within the first few notes. “The High Road,” by Leonard Cohen collaborator Sharon Robinson, sounds like vintage R&B with a new coat of paint, and LaVette draws out the blues elements in Rosanne Cash’s heartbreaking “On The Surface,” and effortlessly does the same with the abovementioned Parton’s “Little Sparrow.” In addition to “Down To Zero,” my other favorites on the album include LaVette’s unprecedented interpretations of Fiona Apple’s “Sleep To Dream” (from which the album’s title is derived) and Aimee Mann’s “How Am I Different.”