Comments:
Macy Gray's follow-up album to the smashing debut of irreverent femme-fatale lyrics and an equally bewitching smoke-ridden voice, is a slight disappointment. The production sounds like a Paisley Park event with Ms. Sassy Gray standing in as the master of ceremonies. The entire album had a Raspberry Beret flavor to it that had me yearning for the real thing. Coincidentally, the liner notes and the boa-cum wig Macy wears on the back of the jacket are of the same color of the raspberry frozen yogurt that streams from the self-serve machine downstairs in the dining commons. Other than the closing cum-interlude, blowin' up your speakers, the album moves away from Macy's hip-hop origins into a retro-funk, ray charles inspired blues, with a touch of spiritual wave of instrumental accompaniment. The rap-hip-hop suit was a better fit.

My favorite track was probably track 11, oblivion, which was reminiscent of Cabaret or Fiddler (on the Roof), maybe even Sgt. Pepper Lonely Hearts Club Band, with its pulsating polka rhythm.

Her lyrics remain the same though: bold, real, streetwise half-chewed goo that sticks under your shoe, if not to the seat of your pants. The words are a saturation of carnal repetition and pseudo-sexual philosophy.