Macy Gray review, NME.com (London), 11 May 2000
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HERE
MACY GRAY Sydney Entertainment Centre For so much woman, the six-foot-something Macy Gray is an oddly androgynous type. It's as if someone's taken a young Muhammad Ali, turned him into a woman and placed him into the now, armed only with a strangely enchanting squeaky voice. There he/she is, jogging on the spot, punching the air, preaching to her audience and constantly demanding that everybody show her they know exactly where she's coming from. You know it's just part-Vaudeville, a couple of doses of pure charisma, but you can't resist getting drawn in by the stature of this person towering above you, knowing there's an undeniable truth to all the simple preaching. But Ali never had a foul mouth like Macy. "Get your clothes off," is the first thing she shouts at you. The debut chant of the night goes: "I don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck." And later, with the crowd of 12,000 replying between every phrase, it's: "Good head! Good drugs! Good music! Peace!" And instead of shadow boxing, Macy wanks the microphone stand off, the virtual orchestra behind her simulating the slow build to orgasm ('Sex-O-Matic Venus Freak'). Then Macy faints to the ground. That's the James Brown in her and Ali. It's not all as lewd as it sounds. Just some clean, dirty fun. And you don't mind Macy talking so much because that voice sings even when it talks. So when the lady actually sings, it's something slightly more transcendental. If Macy Gray is indeed 31 years old, where the hell has she been all our lives? Because she's an extraordinary hip-hop-soulist. And, thankfully, she can write songs to match her God-given instrument. Macy and her 11-piece band - book-ended by an organ player and a DJ with a duo of sultry back-up singers and a trio of brass thrown in between - work through all of 'On How Life Is', bringing its musical complexities to life, Macy remoulding virtually all its melodies along the way. To fill up the rest of the 90-minute gig, obviously a few covers had to be thrown in. So Macy chooses 'A Little Help From My Friends', which the band treat like an angular reggae number, Doris Day's 'Que Sera Sera', the hippy anthem 'Brand New Key' and, in the middle of the big closer 'I Try', she veers off into 'No Woman No Cry'. The only boring bits of the evening come when Macy goes offstage for her two costume changes. As for the rest of it, well, things could never get boring while Macy's around.
