Top 10 Best Songs of Barbra Streisand

This is the ultimate Streisand song. Nostalgia, regret, warmth, and that one pinch of pain you only feel later. "The Way We Were" works because it's not a dramatic outburst, but a memory that slowly comes into focus. Barbra sings it with restraint, and precisely because of that it gets through. The chorus is iconic, but the magic lies in the lines around it, in the way she looks back without sparing herself.

"People" shows how good Barbra is at keeping things small without becoming small. She sings with control, but you feel the emotion getting closer. This is the kind of performance where you don't think about technique, but about meaning. The song is also a perfect summary of her image: vulnerable and dominant at the same time, romantic but never naive.

This is pure bulldozer Barbra. Not asking, but going. "Don't Rain On My Parade" is the musical equivalent of someone walking into a room and immediately deciding what time it is. The tempo is high, the lyrics are brutal, and Barbra's timing is razor-sharp. You hear here why she became such a phenomenon on Broadway and in film: she doesn't just sing, she plays every word.

There are choruses you recognize after one second, and this is one of them. "Woman in Love" is melodically almost ridiculously strong: it goes up, it lingers, and it feels like it lifts you up naturally. Barbra sings it with conviction, but also with a kind of vulnerability that keeps it just human. It's the kind of song that even cynical people unconsciously start humming along to.

Here you hear Barbra as a pop star with a shiny, early 1980s production that still feels good. "Guilty" is smooth, seductive and clever in how it builds tension without ever really going off the rails. The chemistry with Barry Gibb is no gimmick, it's the engine of the song.

If you ever wondered how a love song becomes timeless: so. "Evergreen" is soft, clear and just enough set grand to feel epic, without becoming sticky. Barbra sings here with a kind of matter-of-fact calm, as if she doesn't have to sell the song. The melody does the work, her voice makes it believable. This is the kind of ballad that you put on and immediately understand why people become quiet.

Disco, but then with a diva duel where nobody loses. This song is pure relief: done with drama, done with tears, away with it. Donna Summer brings the club energy, Barbra brings the theatrical fire, and together they make something much bigger than "just a nice dance track". The chorus is made to sing along, and the public has been doing that for decades.

This duet is one long, elegant argument in slow motion. It begins almost politely and becomes increasingly painful, because you feel that they both already know where it's going. Barbra's strength here lies in the small stabs in her voice: just a bit harder, just a bit quieter, exactly on the right words. And Neil Diamond is the perfect foil.

Two voices that are essentially too big for one song, and yet it works. Because it's not about volume, it's about tension. The song feels like a romantic pep talk that you should have given yourself long ago. Barbra stays the quiet director, C'eline brings the drama, and together they build toward a finale that can genuinely give goosebumps. Pure 1990s power ballad!

Many artists sing "Memory". Barbra makes a film of it. She doesn't take the song as a musical showcase, but as a slow, breaking conversation with yourself. First controlled, almost businesslike, and then that typical Streisand buildup comes: more air, more space, more emotion, without becoming sentimental. This is not "look at me singing", this is "look what this does to me".