I never knew you, we never met, but your Music thrilled me, moved me, made me want to dance, groove, cry … it even made me angry. And by ‘Music’ I mean the whole shooting match, from lyrics to (at your best) to fantastic, gutsy performance. I regret never seeing you live: indolence / laziness on my part, I’m afraid. The best compliment I can pay you is that after buying ‘Frank’ on-spec; in Womack’s words I played it: ‘ over and over and over again till the grooves (were) gone …. Your writing was so mature, so knowing … I don’t know enough about you to judge whether you lived it, or were just a good observer. I suspect I know which. Either way, blessed with that wonderful voice and a childhood/adolescence ( it seems) steeped in class music, you were too good to be true.
I hope all the cheapskate tabloid and gossip rag hacks who tormented and took the piss out of you are happy now. This is what they wanted. Their outrageous behaviour fits quite comfortably into the News of the World Code of Practice methinks …
Normally, I think the epitaph Rest in Peace is a lazy, over-used waste of words, but in your case, it does seem quite fitting. Wherever we go when we shuffle off this mortal coil, I only hope it’s cool for you Amy, and that you get the peace you didn’t have in the all too brief shooting star sparkle that was your life as it arced across our otherwise dull and dreary sky.
In fact, it looks even better in Latin: Requiescat in pace. Whaddaya think? (What did I do before ‘Wikipedia’?)
Amy Jade Winehouse (14 September 1983 – 23 July 2011)
Requiescat in pace