The downward spiral of Macy Gray

I went to see Macy Gray last night at the Filmore with my friend Andi. I used to love Macy Gray. She has such a beautiful voice - it is so unique, probably from years of getting high and in other sorts of trouble.

Andi has been in a funk lately and it isn’t easy for her to do things that require normal conversation like dinners, coffees etc. I thought that a concert would be fun but also easy for her because she doesn’t have to talk. Once again Michael came through for us tickets and drinks and BOX seats. We got to sit in his box, no tall guys standing in front of me. No we were upstairs with all the important people. Ha!

Well Macy came on and, well, it was at once disappointing. I knew that she used to play at the Ramada Inn, and honestly it didn’t feel like we were too far away from those days. She came strutting out wearing some kind of suit and tie, with her hair plastered down like a helmet. She looked like a cross between K D Lang and Whitney Houston. There were too many people in her band and you couldn’t even hear her voice. She had two back-up singers who looked as thought they were cast offs from the Dream Girls Movie (Michael made this brilliant and hilarious observation). She kept flailing her arms and running about the stage like a crack addict who has just done a speedball. “we’re gonna party” she kept saying in between outfit changes after the suit, that looked like she had just run to China town and had them sew her some loosely fitting taffeta prom dresses – one in black and one in red. It wasn’t fun, really. I tried dancing to two of her old songs, but realistically I felt like I was at a trashy wedding or some boring corporate event with a bunch of horny drunk salesmen. Boo Macy. You lost your grove gal.