To appreciate the magic of Mary J. Blige is to appreciate a generation of young Black girls, growing up in Brooklyn and Detroit, from Cali to Carolina, trying to be good but wanting so much to be bad, wonderful spirits who the world ignores. Mary J. Blige's voice is the gritty representative of those spirits, projecting her ups and downs on the screen of the world.

The Tour is a live album taken mostly from her sold out Los Angeles concert. Now, some people have criticized Mary (a girl the whole world feels like they're on a first name basis with) for her ghettoized singing style, sliding into and slurring notes instead of hitting them head on, taking older classics and doing basically street corner versions of them with better production. Those critics can't appreciate the way Mary moves a certain brand of person. In songs like "My Life," "Love No Limit" and "Seven Days," Mary belts out her songs with an emotionalism and power that her albums often try to smooth out. None of that is even attempted on this extremely rough album -- not in terms of technical mistakes, but in terms of emotion and energy. These songs lay out the life of one very troubled yet very strong sister in full graphic detail for all the world to see. It's almost like skating on the landscape of the moon, a new and unknown territory filled with terrors and wonder to explore.

But it's not that unknown a territory for the millions of girls who identify with Mary, who are singing every note of every song in the background on this album, a virtual choir of communion and sisterhood. It's a strange beauty, but a relevant one as well.

That's not to say this album is without fault. Mary's legitimate background singers try too hard on a song or two, almost howling on songs like "Slow Down," and a loud male voice keeps shouting incoherently through the album ("How many of y'all remember dis right here?" he hollers when a song from the What's the 411? album starts playing). As well, Mary's energy level differs on some songs, as though she feels she has to do them and wants to get on to other hits, her strength in the songs of pain, not the songs of pleasure.

But when you hear the way the show progresses - the mixing in of the "Dolly My Baby" track before "My Life," the passion with which she delivers Lil' Kim's dedicated lyrics on "I Can Love You," the cursing and rough language she uses in speaking to the crowd, no, her crowd as they appreciate her honesty - you're really hearing the magic of this album. Add the fact that there are at least three songs not available on any of Mary's three albums, and you've got a must-have for any down and dirty fan of R&B. The more you listen to it, the more this album will seem like a classical snapshot of a powerful artist.

Or, to quote a braided sixteen year old, staring glassy eyed and swaying at the very concert this was recorded at, "sing, bitch, sing!"