For those who have no knowledge of Amy Winehouse other than the Woman's Day or New Idea images of her falling out of nightclubs and into police cars, her beehive and Cleopatra makeup skewed, her rehab vision screwed ...
... find a copy of Black to Black. Light the fire, pour yourself a glass of good red and listen to the girl. It will be a revelation, I promise you.
Amy Winehouse may be cavorting and jamming with a tribe of self-combusting genius women the ilk of Billie Holiday, Marilyn Monroe, Janis Joplin tonight. Imagine it.
I feel terribly sad about her death. I once watched a video of Janis Joplin stamping her spangled heels on the stage ... Why oh why oh why ... and the woman next to me, who was at least twenty years my senior, expressed outrage and anger and sadness that such a freakishly talented woman could just be removed from our world by something so banal as drugs. Her words, about Janis dying like that, have stayed at the back of my mind and revisited today.