Thanks for providing a handy reference point, but oy! Streisand is the epitomy, a model, a prototype of a lounge singer: pretentious, over emoting interpreter of kitschy, sentimental pop tunes that Broadway geniuses turn out by the dozen for the petty bourgeois audiences. Even Jimmy Webb's MacArthur Park was above that. Trash is trash, I'm afraid. Compare to Dusty Springfield of the same era, or to early Dionne Warwick. Or compare to the male Barbra Robert Goulet of Feelings and similar torch operas!
I can't discuss linguistics, but as I said, a reference point is a pretty good indicator nevertheless.
Well, then, I'm afraid you're talking to one! I love the musicals of the forties, fifties, and sixties. But please don't let BS talk in public without a scriptwriter.