What's a 73-year-old man doing with tears streaming, rivulet-like through wrinkles, listening to the music of a 27-year-old, fantasizing about how he could have saved Amy, if she only knew what her music meant to him and thousands, perhaps millions, of others around the world? Here's our story.
I stumbled across Amy Winehouse on You-Tube a few years back, during a wine-infested Thanksgiving Day celebration. None of us had been drinking heavily, but perhaps because I seldom drink at all, I was feeling festive and wanted to find some music/videos to entertain our guests. How I found her has to be synchronous, since part of my life story reflects my choices to fend off-live with-understand those who "struggle" with addictions. Of course, we all struggle with addictions, be it those that are socially palatable, or those that are no-no's. Addictions can be pleasurable and they can be lethal.
I found a video of Amy Winehouse performing "Back to Black" at some concert where she was clearly inebriated, and actually imbibing on the stage, and I was mesmerized. I called everyone from the table to come and look at this phenomenon. The song, itself, was memorable; the swaying, riffing singer, with the bee-hive hair and the tattoos was enchanting. "Look at how she uses her hands," I exclaimed, and how she looks up under her eyelashes, like she has a secret she wants to share. This is my girl," I thought at the time. I have to find out more about who the hell this is. She gets it.
As soon as I could, I ordered both of her albums. I signed onto her website. I ordered Amy Winehouse pint glasses and a DVD of a London live concert. I read biographical notes about Amy. But through all of the "obsession," my chief interest was in her music: how did this middle class Jew from London, come to write these incredible songs? AMY WINEHOUSE WROTE HER OWN SONGS. They were not manufactured by a syndicate for a popular artist, and they were why they stood out amongst the sound-alike recordings where I could not tell whom I was listening to (Is that Brittney Spears, or is that, etc.).
The premise that she was a poet, of sorts, began to dawn on me. Apparently, and I cannot remember the source, she wrote "Love is a Losing Game" in ten minutes. Think about some of the ways she described her feelings: they were about her real experiences.
Back to Black: l love you much.
It's not enough.
You love blow and I love puff,
And life is like a pipe,
And I'm a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside
Love Is a Losing Game:
Tho' I battle blind,
Love is a fate resigned
Memories mar my mind.
Love is a losing game
Tears Dry on Their Own:
I shouldn't play myself again,
I should just be my own best friend,
Not fuck myself in the head with stupid men.
And, as far as I know, she wrote the music. Simple, often, with many derivatives, but unusual for what was being offered at the time. It is no wonder that audiences throughout the world (most recently in South America) sang along during her performances (which, gave us all hope, since she looked healthy and happy during the SA tour a few months ago).
This hope stayed with me until I heard about the concert in Serbia and the cancellation of the rest of the tour. I thought, well, Ame, go home and rest and start anew. You have done it many times, and you know that you have the love and support of fans in many places on this globe. Stop the concerts, stop the pressure, just rest, and begin to think more about that next album. The one we have all been waiting for.