Dammit, Amy. Even your name forshadowed things to come.
Amy Winehouse died at her home in Camden, North London at the mythical age of 27. Cause of death is currently listed as “unexplained”, but who are we kidding? The explanation that will eventually come will shock no one as a sense of sad acceptance is already settling in. The woman who defiantly proclaimed “Hell no.” to rehab had demons and, more often than not, sought to exorcise them in some damned self-destructive ways with drink, drugs, and a bad marriage. Her recent European tour came to a screeching halt after, via the interwebs, the world watched and re-watched a Serbian gig where she was too wasted to perform.
One thing about musical artists that we music fans are grateful for and appreciate, in general, is their ability to translate the human condition through the songs. If we flex the awareness we were all born with, it’s hardly news that some of our- no, the world’s- most loved/beloved artists are/were immensely flawed characters. Basically they were pretty fucked up, and part of trying to un-fuckup themselves is via the music they create. “Frank” from 2003 was her acclaimed intro to the world, but Amy put her skeletons on worldwide display with 2006’s Back To Black; literally opened up a high alcohol content vein and let it flow. Habits, health, insecurities, and breakups…her head, soul, and heart were on her sleeve for the pleasure and pain of your listening with doo-wop, jazz, soulful precision, and a love of the vibe of girl groups of old. Hers was a voice that so many of us could hear the future of non-shitty music in. And we listened. Some of us still do.
Against all reason and repeated episodes that predicted otherwise (relapses, health problems, run ins with the law, more relapses), some of us held out the slimmest glimmers of hope that Winehouse would get it together and live to second or even eclipse the awesome of the Grammy Award-winning Back To Black but, oh well. So goes the power of addiction, excess, and self-abuse. But no matter how you saw her, what you thought of the past 3 years of her life, how many jokes you made about crack, boob jobs, or rat’s nest beehive up-dos, no one with a working set of ears was able to deny the heft of her talent. And it’s the lose of and unfulfilled potential of that talent, as well as the abrupt and pitiful end of a fragile human life, that will be mourned.
The second track on Back To Black right after “Rehab” is “You Know I’m No Good”. Sometimes I just hate it when art imitates like so damned precisely. Fuckery.
This always has been and always will be my favorite performance of hers. So simple, so right on: “Valerie”:
Thoughts and prayers are definitely with her family today. As for you Amy, keep singing your soul and rest in peace.
Editors Note: This post was written by Trina Green. She comes to Popwreckoning as a guest writer with content borrowed in partnership with High Voltage Magazine. Check them out!
