“I hope y’all go to church, but if you don’t, I’mma gonna give you church tonight,” croons Lady (Nicole) Wray to about 500 consenting congregants at Berlin’s Lido, a bit of a misnomer for a former cinema turned events venue in the heavily gentrified, “hip” Kreuzberg area. The predominantly Protestant local Germans may not be liturgical regulars, but the atmosphere of communion is riding high, with ecstatic dancing and fervent singalongs. What better way to wind down after a week of thankless overtime work than with the glorious, genre-bending tunes of hope and faith?
Listening to her fantastic performance, especially 2022’s lush, expansive Piece of Me, one cannot help but wonder how Wray, now with “Lady” standing in for Nicole, isn’t a bigger star. The California-born, now proudly Atlantan singer got her start in 1998 when Missy Elliott (“She went by Melissa then,” comments Wray playfully) made teenage Wray the first recording artist on her new label, The Goldmind Inc. Her debut single “Make it Hot” much in the vein of Aaliyah‘s work, ended up certified gold, but vying for the attention of R&B-crazed teens was a neverending uphill struggle; the eponymous album failed to sell, and Wray left the label.
Eighteen years passed before we heard from the singer again, this time with a fresh moniker, Lady Wray. The overlong pause turned out for the (much) better. Her 2016 sophomore effort Queen Alone is a compelling U-turn: playful enough to cozy up to saccharine bluesy pop but melodically diverse and aesthetically closer to Smokey Robinson or Al Green than Janet Jackson. It’s gold-glazed vinyl with a splash of funky, mainstream jamming. A rare listening feat.
And then, a comeback of sorts. Piece of Me, Lady Wray’s magnum opus of strength – and joy – found in hardship and heartbreak, was released with little pomp in early 2022. A rich, wide-ranging, and far-reaching album, it merges honest, profound soul and sizzling radio-friendly hooks with skill seldom heard in today’s generic background noise tunes. “Through It All“, “Come On In“, and “Under the Sun“, all tie for the relaxed summer jam gold medal.
Perhaps more importantly, Piece of Me is resplendent with emotion: themes of familial bonds and maturation through self-reflection dominate the release. The singer’s father and young daughter both feature, as do deeply moving gospel singalongs. The album is a sizzling musical variety, moving mountains with hope and kindness. It seems impossible for playlist algorithms to ignore it, even if mainstream media does.
It took over a year, but Piece of Me became a sleeper hit. Its triumphant jams span Spotify recommendations ranging from funk and pop to soul, blues, and gospel, now bringing Lady Wray to some 560,000 monthly listeners. Popular outlets picked up the hype, praising the album, especially its magnificent titular track, “Piece of Me“, a hymn of forgiveness and letting go. Suddenly, Wray was featured on NPR Music’s Tiny Desk for Black History Month. Her songs could be heard in cafes and bars across Europe. I have repeatedly spotted them in London, Budapest, and Berlin.
Now, Nicole “Lady” Wray looks and sounds more ready than ever to take center stage and give us all of her formidable talent. Her current tour may be limited, with just a handful of dates across Europe and the US, confined to more intimate settings like jazz cafes or ballrooms, but the power of her performances is immense – so is the conviction of her audience.
My household, like most others, discovered Lady Wray through some well-calibrated streaming service equations. She popped up on my funk playlists inconspicuously in early 2022 while COVID-19 kept most of us at home. Fast forward two years, and not a day goes by without several of Wray’s gems in our musical backdrop rotation. Hearing Berlin made the cut for her tour was a cause for celebration.
It is Saturday, 18 May, and Lido – once the prime spot for east Berliners looking to get a glimpse of Hollywood on film and now a revamped clubbing and arts joint – is teeming with a colorful palette of profiles. Teenagers, middle-aged suits, elderly hippies, gentrifying creatives and working folks alike, women in their 20s in full clubbing garb, seasoned couples in their slippers waiting for the curfew to go home… all have gathered seemingly at random, queuing at the extensive bar to get some affordable beer.
This wonderfully eclectic crowd of about 500 is testament enough to Lady Wray’s capacity to speak to different types. The eclecticism is embraced by Wray and her collaborators: the opening act, Brainstory, is three white Californian boys with Tony Hawk meets Blink-182 vibes, except they play R&B and are also a part of Wray’s live act. Brothers Tony and Kevin Martin and Eric Hagstrom are die-hard jazz aficionados with a knack for funky hooks and outsized mustache. Their 35-minute show pulls us in instantly. “This song sounds familiar,” says my husband less than two minutes in. “Sure, that’s because you’ve heard it a million times,” I quip, recognizing Brainstory as one of the bands in our algorithm-approved rotation.
The band meshes well with Lady Wray’s own campy, playful side. Being on the same label, Leon Michels’ Big Crown Records, Brainstory is another versatile musical bunch, a leisurely jamming pop escapade into the legacy of black music. With some good PR, they could be as big as Tame Impala. In any case, they sound like a damn good time, something I believe many of us tend to leave out of their calendars too much.
Around 9 pm, the three members of Brainstory return to the stage, this time with a keyboardist, back vocals, and Lady Wray herself. With bleached braids and dressed in all-black, she’s got the attitude to match the melodic pizzazz. “I’m a Hobbit!” she proclaims laughingly as she swiftly does away with her stilettos, but the claim is misleading. This woman has a towering presence, emanating the same energy her songs do. In that respect, to those around her, she seems like the tallest person in the world.
The 90-minute performance is a heartfelt, thwacky scroll through Lady Wray’s catalog, mostly focusing on recent hits, with a couple of surprises from the past. “Come On In” is an instant invitation to dance, and “Piece of Me” effortlessly brings communion to an early high. Dubbed by the New York Times as the “ultimate breakup song”, it is a uniquely graceful ode to outgrowing the past.
“I’ll let you take a piece of me, I hope you get the peace you need, and if that’s not enough, I’ll let you go peacefully”, screams the crowd over Wray’s assuring lulling. A ballad of introspection and maturity, this is the work of a supremely confident woman who knows how to love and respect herself. As we grow older, the lessons become clearer – breaking up and moving on does not mean (just) departing from someone else but arriving back at yourself and your growth.
One must admire Lady Wray’s singular blend of calm and frenzy, as “Make It Hot” denotes a quick shift toward hip-hop, yet another genre where the multitalented performer feels at home. The younger audience members throw their hands up, cheering the flow on. However, it’s the gospel power of “Guilty“, “Joy & Pain“, and “Beauty in the Fire” that sets the room on fire, with everyone jumping in to sing and jam, on their own or hugging a loved one.
Lady Wray’s profoundly personal stories, like “Guilty”, which she dedicated to her brother, a black man imprisoned for a minor offense, mutate into universal stories of heartache and rapture through the sheer force of Wray’s voice. In the studio, she only applies the gentle touch of R&B cooing, steady and composed across the board; live, it’s a different story.
With pipes to scare a grizzly bear, Wray soars, leaning into the extended chorus, playing against her delicate soprano back singer with the full range of her thunderous mezzo-soprano. When she promises to give us church, she means it. Every honest line, every tremble, and every tear add to the impression that we have congregated to be cleansed. Of what exactly, it’s up to each of the faithful to decide.
That’s not to say Lady Wray insists on being self-serious. On the contrary, her proud Southern humor permeates every pore of the show, with mischief and anecdotes following most songs. Her joke repertoire is as eclectic as her songs—dressing nicely because we pay to see her, fused bottlecaps, and the European welfare system all make the cut. Emotions might be running high, but it’s Saturday night after all, and Wray knows how to balance things out and throw a superb party.
The concert’s second part is reserved almost exclusively for the singer’s hottest “pop” tracks. “Under the Sun”, “Through It All”, “Storms”, and the closer “Melody” – each of these wonderfully optimistic head-nodders sounds like a classic, and the crowd is on fire, drunk with joy and perhaps something else, and delighted. Why Lady Wray’s gorgeous tunes aren’t more mainstream is inexplicable, but history can yet set the record straight. Just put on some R&B playlists and let recommendations take the lead. I have a feeling we might be seeing Wray on larger stages very soon.