Gray's Anatomy

According to Macy Gray, her new album, The Id, is an unedited look into her self-professed "psychotic" mind--the manifestation of her musical "id," if you will. All I have to say to Ms. Gray is, if this is the wildest, most unrestrained, uninhibited piece of work you can come up with, perhaps it's time to experiment with a psychotropic substance slightly stronger than weed.

But don't get me wrong, the album is fun--if you like mindless neo-funk (which, I will admit, I do). Gray starts off with "You Are Relating to a Psychopath," an energetic romp with some damned silly lyrics (e.g.: "hot like hot wings with hot chocolate in hell"). Does anyone else get the impression she's trying too hard to be crazy? Perhaps she should hang with Mariah for some authenticity. The next few songs are well-arranged, solid tracks. "Boo" slows down with a nice melody, while "Sexual Revolution" incorrectly tries to peg the musical style of said era with its pseudo-disco flavor. "Hey Young World part 2" sounds like an Elmo jingle on Sesame Street with bass.

"Sweet Baby," the album's first single, reeks of uninspired "guaranteed hit," as it unsuccessfully tries to recreate the success of Gray's breakout hit, "I Try." After this, the album falls into a repetitive slump, and the tracks all sound like ones you've heard before, even if you really haven't. Lack of variety plagues Gray, and her attempts at party music fall flat.

And then there was "Oblivion." Possibly the only truly uninhibited, unrestrained song on the album, it shows the listener just what might be going on underneath that afro--which is a thoroughly frightening realization to have alone, late at night, in the dark. It sounds as if Macy and her band of back-ups invaded the circus and sent the carnies screaming into the night. The rest of the album is pointless. "Blowin' Up Your Speakers" tries to do just that, and the not-so-subtly hidden "Shed," with its atypical hip-hop flavoring, seems to be radio ready. Perhaps a last minute addition?

In all, the album is meaningless, with wholly nonsensical lyrics and trite, neo-funk grooves. The several guest appearances are quite overbilled, with vocalists relegated to strictly background roles and rappers limited to half-verses. It seems as if Gray is attempting to buy some hip-hop street cred by subscribing to the ever-popular trend of having everyone else but you work on your album. It doesn't feel quite right to dismiss it as disposable, but this is not a record for the history books.

--Brian Barrera