Amy Jade Winehouse
(14 September 1983 — 23 July 2011)
I am stunned but not surprised. Sad to the point of tears. I loved this young singer's voice. So bluesy and raw. This decade's Janice.
I remember so clearly the first time I heard Amy's music. A driveway moment. Saturday night. Sitting in the living room of friends. Vodka and cranberry in my hand. A vintage orange and pink tumbler.
Who is this? I loved what I heard. The newly acquired Back to Black, Amy's album destined to win six Grammies. I asked to replay the album later in the evening. I was so excited to hear someone new, someone who sounded this good. I never stopped loving her sound.
And then the drugs. Those reapers of so many young and troubled musicians. A tabloid photo showing her arms so thin, her skin so sallow. References to meth addiction. It occurred to me, She could die, too. I anxiously followed her up and down progress.
And now today.
Rest in peace, Miss Winehouse. You sure didn't seem to rest on this earth.