In response to Reggie Boyle's letter (Sept. 23), let me ring in for Macy Gray's defense (not that she really needs any help, her first two albums speak for themselves).
Boyle's assertions that Gray can't "sing" misses one of the essential points of rock music, and perhaps of popular music in general: It's all about selling the song. In many ways, Frank Sinatra couldn't "sing." If I listen carefully to a lot of his swing tunes, his voice isn't that great, but I love the songs anyway. Edith Piaf, France's national treasure, practically croaked at times, but her music stirred the passions of a nation.
I remember standing at a CD listening station in Pasadena, bopping up and down for the length of the album, the first time I heard Gray's "On How Life Is." I bought it immediately and told anyone who would listen to do the same. Yes, her voice is unique. Some might even find it squeaky. But I hear a cross between Tina Turner and Al Green every time I play her CD.
I heard Macy Gray before reading anything about her and, as shocking as this might be, decided that her voice was sublime, completely free from the prompting of any critics.
There isn't anything wrong with disliking a voice. But why the need to denounce it without qualification, and to categorize those who find it brilliant as so many sniveling me-too followers?
Re "Band of Brothers": Lawrence Brooks must have a dinky TV and a crummy stereo; in any case, he isn't seeing or hearing the superb state-of-the-art picture and sound I am (Letters, Sept. 23). As for his lamenting the scripts' Everyman language and the series' non-stellar focus on collective action, all I can say is, well, he'd better get used to collective action. Bravo Spielberg and Hanks!