Macy Gray

She's the soul of soul. Macy Gray, with her high, broken voice, has grown up a lot since her appearance at the Transmusicales at the dawn of the new millennium. Today, she's one of the grand dames of the stage, a rare icon of her time.

On that December day in 1999, a diva with a rocky voice warmed the hearts of an audience chilled by the cold air of Rennes. She was a complete unknown, but Jean-Louis Brossard was under the spell of this young mother from Los Angeles. Yes, even back then, Macy Gray, with her hoarse timbre, pop-like choruses and hip-hop cuteness, had everything it took to pull soul music out of her hat. That evening, the slap in the face was immense, leaving a lifelong stigma in the memories of all festival-goers.

As usual, the Transmusicales found a rare gem. Today, the grandiose career of this great lady of music bears witness to this, laying down her pure emotions on arrangements that are on the verge of becoming part of the intimate square of jazz. Chaos of the soul, expression of the heart: Macy Gray is a warm gray, always able to bring a hint of bright color to a profoundly modern spleen. She often tells of lack, abandonment and lost loves, like the reflection of a scratched life. Never totally fatalistic, the American showgirl, with her sober, sincere elegance, has built a universe that overlooks time and illuminates the spirit.

The woman compared to Aretha Franklin or Tina Turner has succeeded in digging her furrow in the prolific lands of pure neo-soul, without rhinestones or glitter. Her sweetness oscillates between light and shade, energy and gentleness, leading her to fly from city to city to bring her work to life on stage. A fan of Nirvana, Rakim and Slick Rick, Macy Gray believes in her own uniqueness, and it seems that fate has proved her right: she has something the others don't.