Not Coming Back From Black
I was really looking forward to a comeback because I loved Amy Winehouse. She was the only “blue-eyed soul” singer whose music I not only listened to, but respected… and that’s probably because she was a druggie and fucked up so many live performances; she was such a badass. And I wanted a comeback so bad so to prove that despite all of the emotional baggage she was so obviously and unsuccessfully coping with, she could still win that battle. i was convinced she had it in her because her music was so dope.
I read what all the other journalists of reputable magazines and newspapers wrote of her life and death, and I get upset. I get upset because there is definitely an undertone that condemns her personal lifestyle, the choice she made, which somehow invalidates her talent and her inevitable success… like she drank and smoked because she didn’t care about her music or her fans… like she didn’t want to do well. In reality, those pretentious fucking pricks don’t know why she chose to live how she did… they don’t know why, you don’t know why, I don’t know why; and to be so assuming shows an obvious disrespect for the dead.
I realize that I was headed in the same direction when I started writing this post. I was, and still am, a little upset that she’s dead because I am a selfish and inconsiderate person. I was going to criticize her fashion debut with Fred Perry [http://www.fredperry.com/women/amy-winehouse-landing/]as an imminent foreshadow for what was to come. I expected so much from Ms. Winehouse and that was unfair. So, I blame myself for what happened and can do nothing more than celebrate her life and her music. She was such a beautiful person and will forever be a music icon. Besides, she’s so much more real than say a Duffy or Joss Stone… and the only reason anyone likes Adele is because she’s fat… think about it.