No disrespect, but I had major reservations about covering a Macy Gray show. I love music in general, but I’m big on vocals. Gray is simply not my kind of vocalist. Nevertheless, I agreed to go.
It had rained steadily all day, so I figured the turnout would be relatively light, and it was. The doors opened at 8 p.m., and being the usually prompt guy that I am, that’s when I arrived. So, I visited the bar to order a little something to take the edge off from the maddening traffic and I overheard a nearby bartender wish another patron a good show — but it was said with an air of sympathy. I thought, what on earth am I in store for?!
Part of my rationale for choosing to go was the fact that the show was taking place in a recently restored historic venue (The Roxy-turned-Buckhead Theatre in Atlanta). I simply wanted to see it. And when I heard that bartender sympathize with a patron regarding what was to come, I was all prepared to say, “I came, I saw, and I …” you know the rest. But, something grabbed my attention.
Arriving so early, I caught the tail end of sound check. It was Gray’s opening act, local band Little Tybee — and they were killing it. It sounded like Sting’s signature sound drizzled over folk instrumentation. Haunting vocals and strings, subtle percussion and mesmerizing bass … I found a seat and made myself at home.
The group wrapped the sample session, apologized for the spoiler and left the stage. Hook, line and sinker, I was glued to my seat, anticipating their return, not at all knowing what Macy Gray, the headliner, would have to offer.
Little Tybee ultimately appeared again, opened the show just as brilliantly as their sound check promised, and being that far in, I was down for giving Gray a chance.
Forty-five minutes later, Gray’s vivacious and voluptuous lone background singer, bedecked in an Afro wig and a “groovy” dress that hearkened back to the ‘70s, introduced the towering entertainer. Gray entered the stage dressed in a floor-length black dress, complete with a substantial feather boa.
Gray cycled through nearly 20 songs during a near-comedic two-hour set, changing costumes and effectively engaging the sparse, but die-hard, crowd along the way. I would love to report that I was awed by her performance, including vocally, but I can’t go that far. I can say, though, that she’s not a multiplatinum-selling entertainer for nothing. Her quirky style and music fits her character, and taken together, it’s not a bad live ticket.
As for the sympathetic bartender, I suppose she’s just not a fan.
–gerald radford
