"My Baby Just Cares for Me" (Nina Simone)

I first heard Nina Simone's version of "My Baby Just Cares for Me" in a somewhat unlikely place: an ad copywriting class in college.
Our professor was discussing how to write effective commercials.  Specifically, he was trying to instill in us that we didn't have to beat people over the head with a product name every 5 seconds.  (A skill that some of us were better at than others.)  Anyway, he was showing us a reel of commercials, where each spot was more about telling a story or conveying the feeling of a brand rather than pushing a product.  There was this one spot for perfume (a quick Google search reminded me that it was a commercial for Chanel No. 5, circa 1987) that had "My Baby Just Cares for Me" playing over cinematic shots of a model zipping through the desert in a sports car.  Of course, I didn't give a rip about the perfume or the model with her big-ass 80s shoulder pads; I just wanted to know what that song was.
After lecture, I marched down to Franklin Street to the former Schoolkids Records, recounted what I could of the lyrics to the Goth girl behind the counter, and watched the immediate look of recognition spread across her heavily-pierced yet sweet face.
"That's Nina Simone.  Oh, I love Nina Simone!"  She was practically giddy.
So that's how I ended up with a CD of Simone's 1958 album Little Girl Blue (which got lost/stolen somewhere along the way) and became a life-long fan of the Tryon, NC-born artist.
The song itself dates to 1930.  It was penned by lyricist Gus Khan and melodist Walter Donaldson (the duo behind other hit songs of the 20s/30s, like "Carolina in the Morning," "Yes, Sir, That's My Baby," and "Makin' Whoopee") for the Eddie Cantor movie-musical, Whoopee!  A search of the Cantor version on the Web will bring up a scene from Whoopee! of the actor/singer in blackface, doing a soft-shoe while singing the number to a crowd of onlookers.  Not going to mince words: it's revolting.  That's why I'm not posting a link.
But leave it to Simone to take something like that and completely reshape and own it.  Not only does she completely rework the melody and rhythms into a sleek, jazzy display of her virtuosity (she was as expressive a pianist as she was a vocalist), she revises the lyrics to fit the new context, too.  It's a 3-minute masterpiece.