Winehouse...a damn shame

Despite the inevitability of her demise, Amy Winehouse's death came as a bit of a shock to me. I was hanging out in DFW, awaiting a flight in a bar, when my twitter feed updated me. I wasn't an avid follower from the beginning. It was only last year that I came to realize her her talent, after a friend loaned me her album, promising that I wouldn't regret giving her an hour of my time. It took hearing just "Me and Mr. Jones" and "Back to Black" (see below) to realize the validity of his words...simply amazing. It would have been nice to see her perform in a small venue, or rather any venue.

Russel Brand's column in the Guardian was eloquent enough to make you realize (if you haven't already) that this is the passing of a true talent. I'm definitely looking forward to the Economist's obit on her...sure to be inspiring.

"The awe that envelops when witnessing a genius. From her oddly dainty presence that voice, a voice that seemed not to come from her but from somewhere beyond even Billie and Ella, from the font of all greatness. A voice that was filled with such power and pain that it was at once entirely human yet laced with the divine. My ears, my mouth, my heart and mind all instantly opened. Winehouse. Winehouse? Winehouse! That twerp, all eyeliner and lager dithering up Chalk Farm Road under a back-combed barnet, the lips that I'd only seen clenching a fishwife fag and dribbling curses now a portal for this holy sound.

So now I knew. She wasn't just some hapless wannabe, yet another pissed-up nit who was never gonna make it, nor was she even a ten-a-penny-chanteuse enjoying her fifteen minutes. She was a fucking genius."