Skip to main content

Ode de Macy Gray

I love Mariah Carey.  She has the greatest voice of my generation.  She's drop dead gorgeous and she only has 2 failed marriages.  Okay, she's not perfect...  Okay, she's nuts but that just makes me love her more.  What can I say?  I like crazy.  Still, millions of people love Mariah because of her undeniable talent, looks and the brilliance of her body of work.  I love Macy Gray for almost the exact opposite reasons.

If Mariah went on American Idol, there would be no contest.  They would have to rename the show "Mariah Time".  If Macy would have gone on American Idol, they would have cut her off 10 seconds in to her audition.  Those talent competition shows look for marketable, middle of the road products to sell to the masses and Macy isn't any of that.

Macy looks like this:
Image result for macy gray

She's all hair, lips and hips and she couldn't be more glorious.  If that isn't enough, she has a very distinctive voice.  It's like she has the choice between warming up her vocals or smoking a pack of Marlboros and picks the latter 9 times out of 10.  Now you're saying to yourself "How the hell does this work?"  The answer is that she is one of the best songwriters that I've ever heard and she just does her.

She's not overtly Black or overtly feminine, she's just overtly Macy Gray and that is what makes me dig her so much.  If Macy can pull off being Macy then Cogito can pull off being Cogito.  She is a reminder that we are all perfectly imperfect and yes, sexy.  There's something so sexy about confidence and Macy just oozes swagger and want's you to do the same. 

I couldn't imagine another singer covering a Macy song but you know who kills them?  Me!  Macy isn't that concerned with hitting a single note and I ain't either.  If you need a Karaoke go to song, bust out "I try" and let the world sing along.  

You have to love a singer that makes you want to sing out loud and her whole being makes we want to join in the orchestra of life.  Keep on sanging Miss Gray.  Me and 102323 people in their showers will keep sanging along witcha.


Comments

Post a Comment

Got comments? Let it out. I always do.

Popular posts from this blog

There's gold in them thar crates

Right now I’m listening to Camp Lo’s Uptown Saturday Night.   I don’t know how much play this album got around the nation when it dropped in 1997, but it didn’t get any love in Kansas City, but If you haven’t heard, it is the shit! I don’t know when it became the general consensus that rap music that didn’t come out in the last 6 months isn’t good but we have to remember hip-hop’s history of being the product of people that were willing to dig in those crates. Bargain bins at the used CD store, garage sales and amazon.com all have great CDs that you never heard.   Not to mention all of those CDs with 2 or 3 great songs on them. My point is that great music doesn’t have a shelf life.   Just because Kanye and Jay-Z keep coming out with hits doesn’t mean Reasonable Doubt and The College Dropout aren’t great CDs.   It’s just the opposite.   There has been a long time since somebody referred to a rap album that is universally referred to as a classic.   Think about it.   There have
1 comment
Read more
Maury must be stopped. No one has profited more from Black people being ignorant than he.   I know the old saying: “Mama’s baby, Papa’s maybe.” But, contrary to popular belief, Black men love their children.   Everyone loves children.   Even if Black men realize that they aren’t bringing much to a household, they know that there is magic there.   That magic might be scary, like all magic, but it’s there.   There isn’t much difference between the love that develops between a man and a child with his D.N.A.   and a man that a child that he has raised. I am my father’s son.   No, I’m not light skinned or a hustler, but I laugh when I hear something funny.   I’ll sit on a porch and dink liquor all Saturday morning.   My toes are extraordinarily long (just like his).   I will see a beautiful woman and take notice just because I am a man and that’s what a man does.   My dad raised me well. When you see a Black man on Maury, you know he is going to be running from the responsibil
2 comments
Read more

R.I.P. Rusty Hayes

Pretty soon here I’m going to say goodbye to my dad.   I suppose that I already have.   When I walked into the place where he lived and saw him there, dead, with his mouth cocked open in a very strange angle, I realized that I had been saying goodbye to my dad for some time now.   That body that laid there in the nursing home did not resonate my father at all. You see, my dad was a big guy.   Always was to me.   That body there was emaciated and small; so much not the powerful figure that I remember. When I was younger, I remember how much I wanted to grow up to look like my dad.   He was muscular, handsome and light skinned and I was anything but (I still have beef with every negro that got blessed with being light skinned in the ‘90s).   The best thing about my dad, though, is that he had a serious thirst for life.   He always laughed so hard that you had to turn around and wonder what the fuck was going on over there that was so damned funny.   When I was young, I couldn’t
1 comment
Read more