Nile Rodgers and his band closed the show with a bang (All photos: Ombak Festival)
It should come as no surprise that Grace Jones — genre-splicing diva, model, a Bond villain’s henchwoman and global avatar of the outré — can deliver a dramatic line: “I’m a wild one, a wild child, and I’m partying to the next party.” At her recent Malaysian outing, the pin-up gladiator of flamboyance sheds her signature flat top hair and outrageous outfits, often refracted through the lens of long-time collaborator, French photographer Jean-Paul Goude. But her headgear that defy geometry, incapable of containing the woman wearing them, stay. Charisma undiminished and her defiantly idiosyncratic self unchanged, the gleeful impresario of cool and chaos holds precisely the dazzling star power Ombak Festival, Desaru Coast Malaysia’s maiden music extravaganza, needs to draw crowds in waves.
Some iconoclasts prize effortlessness but the 76-year-old Jones, well into the fifth decade of her career, demonstrates hard work. The cameras capture the force and determination in her singing, and also her sweat. Occasionally, the set is punctuated with laser beams and strobe lights that, compared with what is happening on stage, seem dulled. Alongside her gift for one-liners (“I love the people [in Johor] so much I might buy a house here”), showmanship with an undercurrent of humour and an extraordinary collection of chapeaux, Jones has a knack for visual originality, from belting out My Jamaican Guy sprawled across a railing and finishing an entire seven-minute song while hula hooping to clambering atop the shoulders of a security officer and shaking hands with the audience as if it were a regal tour. She is the high priestess of new-wave pop after all, one who, instead of disappearing with the decline of disco, found success through a mix of European post-punk and reggae.
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Jones is not the only one who excels in engaging and building rapport with the crowd; Swedish rock outfit The Cardigans takes the MTV generation on a trip through the grand melodrama and optimism typical of 90s rock, a cultural moment most definitely squelched by the smartphone. Frontwoman Nina Persson promises love with a passion verging on masochism: “Go on and step on me,” the breathy-voiced balladeer pleads. Stung by nostalgia, we are teenagers again, just ripping off the Band-Aid from yet another doomed relationship.
The quintet, albeit comprising mostly reformed heavy metal musicians, may not want to live forever as freewheeling indie popsters, as Persson croons the band’s newer and heavier material such as Higher and My Favourite Game. The truth is, The Cardigans shines brightest when it leaves all that darkness behind. Launching into its breakthrough worldwide hit Lovefool — with an ear-candy chorus that showcases Persson’s cooing refrain, “Love me, love me, say that you love me” — instantly provokes an ecstatic mass singalong. Youth titillates, reminding us of unrequited affection, the see-saw of new love and new loss, or something we might have been but can now only witness.
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Dominating Day 2 of the festival is another cast-iron banger, brought to life by American R&B songstress Macy Gray, known for being part of an extraordinary wave of neo soul songwriters that include Erykah Badu and Alicia Keys.
“We come all the way from Los Angeles, California, just to hear you sing to us,” recites Gray in her raspy chortle before every other song, as if hoping for those magical moments when a band suddenly finds itself being comprehensively outsung by the audience. Luckily, this is more than an accommodating crowd, as they pitch in their voices to help perform I Try, the smouldering soul number that won the artiste a Grammy for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance in 2001.
Sporting a blue wig and ruffled orange dress that render her more striking than usual, Gray seems thrilled by the reception as she saunters right to the edge of the stage to see the turnout more fully.
“Now, look to the person next to you, introduce yourself and say ‘I love you’,” she bellows while idly caressing the microphone stand. Her set, which comprises hits such as Why Didn’t You Call Me, Caligula and a rendition of Radiohead’s debut single Creep (she covered it in her 2012 album), does not take off with the same heat as the recordings, but her supportive fans, wildly devoted until the end, suggest they are here for more than mere reminiscence.
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Much like the dizzying sonic medley that ushers us upon entry, Ombak promises we exit in a similar state of sensory overload. Nile Rodgers & The Chic Organization (the disco colossus he founded) has the audience on their feet from the get-go with an avalanche of dancey tunes such as Le Freak, We Are Family and I Want Your Love. A white-suited Rodgers, like the commander of a musical armada, stomps and sweats with his foot firmly on the gas, energising revellers further with chart-toppers he co-produced and made famous, including Madonna’s Like a Virgin and Material Girl.
The only time the screen, a pulsating giant mirrorball, pauses is when the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award 2023 winner stops for a quick speech: “When I was really sick, all of you, people who didn’t know me, strangers, wrote letters and asked me to stay strong. Cancer is not necessarily a death sentence and I survived twice. Get Lucky, you know,” exclaims the musician, while referencing the Billboard anthem he collaborated on with French electronic duo Daft Punk and singer Pharrell Williams.
The funky, syncopated guitar riff Rodgers wrote for the group rings loud into the night at Ombak, giving fans one last almighty party ever since the two silver-helmeted robots were put to sleep after 28 years. Towards the end, confetti showers the festival ground like a blizzard in a temporary moment of brilliance, but this finale — filled with pin-sharp choreography and visual grandeur perfected by the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame inductee and his well-oiled crew — is not one to be forgotten in a hurry.
Instruments of change
The most transformative sounds do not always come from polished studios but the grit of lived experiences. There is currently a panoply of women making music they want to listen to, and finding that the appeal crosses gender lines. Therefore, it is heartening to see Bunga Isme — balancing life as a rapper and full-time law student — still doling out catchy hooks and lively bars in a hijab, after she was deemed “inappropriate” for bopping in a baju kurung or “inexperienced” to open for Coldplay’s sold-out gig last year. Echoing that energy is Alena Murang, who continues to proudly wield her sape, traditionally reserved for male healers in Borneo.
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Ombak goes on to prove that these local acts, alongside names like Datuk Zainal Abidin, The Shang Sisters, WVC Jazz and Mellow Goeslaw, are no sideshows. Anak Johor Joe Flizzow, responsible for putting Malaysian hip-hop on the map, makes a fitting appearance in Desaru, delivering neat punchlines in Drop (“Every single dollar that I make, the taxman try to take”) and all-time favourite Havoc with alacrity over a sinuous beat. The screaming ovation offstage reaches a crescendo when fellow rapper and good friend SonaOne makes a surprise entrance, all the way from Kuantan, to relive their successful duet Apa Khabar. Pyrotechnics are not deployed to signpost the climax but the arrival of choruses, which (nearly) everyone knows the words to.
Apart from filling our ears with music, the premiere holiday destination also offers an array of activities for the eye and mind, scattered mainly across three properties: Hard Rock, The Westin and Anantara. Lulls between performances are populated with participatory artworks you can join, like Ayer Ayer’s Shore Debris Table that highlights ocean plastic pollution, or ticketed culinary events featuring Carbon KL, Chocha Foodstore and Reka:Bar x Vér — The Bar at Nadodi for some Bornean-inspired libations. Chef Jun Wong takes over the Ombak Supper Club with the Stars, where we get the chance to exchange notes on music and oenology with members of The Cardigans.
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Desaru Coast’s inaugural festival, of course, does not exhibit perfect pitch. The Festival Village at the Riverside, which houses artisanal retail brands like Dia Guild, Earth Heir, Borneo Sparkles and Kapten Batik, can use a little pep, as only a handful of customers are seen milling about. Its obscure location, considerably remote from the main stage, means fewer people get to engage with Segaris Art Centre’s installations or patronise the F&B pop-ups such as Fafaba, Sala, Brotani, Jojo’s By Joloko, Kantin and Licky Chan — all parked under Food Fiction by REXKL — on this side of the fair. Post-festival, the organisers claimed there were more than 5,000 attendees but food vendors and stall owners, who had hoped for bustling sales, lamented a low turnout even on a long Malaysia Day weekend.
Despite these hiccups, Ombak’s line-up, boosted by an almost flawless audio system, is greeted quite as rapturously as one can anticipate for a star-studded debut. The high-energy closing salvo, a sincere pleasure reciprocated by artistes and audience alike, will certainly set the tone for the next edition.
Amazing Gray
Options catches up backstage with the Grammy winner and R&B singer on her career as well as her performance in Malaysia
That was a great set. How did you feel performing for your fans on this side of the world?
Macy Gray: It was a blast and the crowd was bigger than I thought. This is my second time here and Malaysians always know how to have a good time. I have performed in Beijing and Tokyo but because of the language barrier, I had to redesign the set to engage with the audience. Ombak is a little different because it’s a festival but I love the vibe too.
It has been 25 years since you burst onto the music scene with the release of your triple-platinum album On How Life Is. How do you think you have evolved?
Huge. I think I’m a way better singer than I used to be. I’m now an expert at being on stage and communicating. I get what I’m supposed to do up there, which I didn’t before. When you’re older, your perspective changes, so the lyrics are a bit different too. That’s kind of what every artiste runs into. Although my fans grew up with me, they still want to listen to things from 20 years ago. But you’ve just got to keep moving.
What sort of songs do you still want to keep writing? Are you better at reconciling with who you are now?
I think it’s fun to connect and find something everybody wants to talk about. Sometimes, you can just sit down with somebody and chat for three hours. That connection may lead to somewhere good. For example, my new song, I Am, with Big Freedia is all about living in your truth and being your authentic self.
Is winning another Grammy important to you?
Yeah, it’s cool to win. That will be nice [laughs]. I don’t think winning another award is going to affect the way I make music because songs and melodies these days are very specific and personal. Previously, there were certain things people often sang about like love or dancing but everyone has a different outlook now. And there are some themes that would never occur to me.
How do you unwind when you are not in the studio?
Nothing. When I do nothing, that’s the best moment of my day. But I still read constantly. I’m teaching a class [she established the M Gray Music Academy in Hollywood] so I’m always reading.
Which other acts would you like to see live? You saw Grace Jones the day before.
Yeah, we were just exchanging some thoughts and ideas. I’m actually a music nerd. I like a lot of musicians. You know who I like live? [American rapper and record producer] Earl Sweatshirt. Is he popular here?
We believe there’s a fanbase. Speaking of the future, what’s on the horizon?
I want to make a movie about my next record. I’m also doing Vegas. That’s it. But who knows, I might fall in love again. And maybe get a facial later.
Find out more about the festival here.
This article first appeared on Sept 30, 2024 in The Edge Malaysia.
