#146, "I Try," Macy Gray (1999)

150 Favorite Songs: #146, "I Try," Macy Gray (1999)

The late 90's were such a revelation for this kind of music, weren't they? I didn't think I liked contemporary soul or R&B music until then. I worked in an "urban" record store outside of Chicago in high school, and all I remember hearing there were Kelly Price, Brandy, and Monica—not the sort of thing that really connected with me. Then Lauryn Hill happened, and Jill Scott, and Macy Gray, and Kelis, and I realized that mostly I just didn't like Babyface's songwriting or Jermaine Dupri's production.

Listening to "I Try" now, it's weird to think that it's almost a quarter of a century old. It could be brand new, or from 1971. It's one of those timeless records, the simplest type of sad-heart song. It’s unafraid to ache, with a hook that doesn't quit, and Gray's unmistakeable voice sounding like no one else on the radio sounded in 1999. 

There's so much joyful noise on "I Try" that it really captures something I love best in music. I was listening to a bunch of songs on this list on shuffle yesterday while I was out, and I realized that my favorite songs, often, are ones that express sad themes with bombast and love. Because the emotions that she sings about on "I Try," they're not quiet emotions, not things we feel alone in a room like early Leonard Cohen or something—they’re the things that swell up in us, that make us feel passionately alive. They hurt, yeah, but that doesn't mean that there isn't a full orchestra accompanying that hurt. And when the years have passed, and we're not living in that moment anymore, those feelings, and the times we felt them—we remember them this way, big and sweeping, we sing along to them because there's a joy in feeling anything this deeply. "I Try" gets that in a really honest, sincere way. There aren't enough songs like it.