I’m not sure what foolishness is responsible for my never intentionally listening to Janis Joplin before now. I think probably, her legacy is so firmly entrenched in the annals of music history that I must have subliminally felt like I was familiar with her myself.

In fact, it was only a few weeks ago when my wife returned from a discount store with a $1 sealed copy of this record that I realized that she had escaped my attention. And within seconds of putting it on, I realized just how much I was missing. Pearl, recorded shortly before (and released shortly after) her tragic death, finds Joplin demonstrating every ounce of her skill as an arranger and vocalist, with the Full Tilt Boogie Band offering a fittingly electric accompaniment to That Voice.

Even listening to Pearl for the first time, Joplin’s reputation preceded her. She remains an emblem of the hippie movement, due largely to both an iconic Woodstock performance and her inclusion in the 27 Club with Jimi Hendrix, Brian Jones, and Jim Morrison. The free-spirited flower power that defined that moment is on full display here, as she leads the Full Tilt Boogie Band through a rollicking mix of blues rock, soul, country, and funk rock. The band shifts grooves and styles on a dime while Joplin’s vocal delivery spends most of its time in her fiery trademark wail.

“Me and Bobby McGee” and “My Baby” are the most enduring, and with good reason: each represents the best of what Joplin and her band have to offer. But even with the monumental stature of that pair of tracks, the rest of the disc is up to task. “Move Over” (the only track written solo by Joplin) opens the record with an eruption of furious blues rock. “Trust Me” and “Get It While You Can” close the album with powerful, organ-led balladry.

But while the record lives and breathes by the interplay between Janis’s voice and the band, two tracks prove that each can stand on their own. Joplin passed away before she could record the vocals for “Buried Alive in the Blues,” and the band decided to include it as an instrumental. The gospelly “Mercedes Benz” on the other hand finds Janis singing alone, accompanied only by the subtle sound of her own tapping in time picked up by her vocal mic (according to legend, the album version is the first and only take).

It’s hard not to hear Pearl and think about what could have happened from here. It was only her second solo record, and the first with the Full Tilt Boogie Band backing here. And judging by the chemistry on display on their inaugural collaboration, it only would have grown with further albums. As it stands though, Pearl is a perfect swan song. It stands as a singular monument of what Janis Joplin was truly capable of when paired with a producer and backing band that understood her.