Nancy Sinatra got little respect from her own generation, but this eponymous album is a much-deserved lovefest from a new generation: Thurston Moore (a bust), Morrissey (another bust), Jon Spencer, Pete Yorn (the surprisingly good “Don’t Mean Nothin’”), Calexico, Jarvis Cocker (the glorious “Baby’s Coming Back to Me”) and U2. She’s still got class and sass to spare, but among so many collaborators, Sinatra sounds too malleable and impersonal.