Amy Winehouse - Parental Advisory Needed

I became aware of Amy Winehouse in 2007/2008 thanks to… Pandora and ProjectVibe.net. That’s one reason I love Pandora and other internet/cable radio stations. They introduce you to talented, artists you’ve never heard of, from all over the world. From stations like Pandora and Projectvibe.net, you get more than the stifling, top 10 singers/rappers/genres that you get on local radio stations. People keep saying hip hop is dead but what's really dead is - RADIO.  Radio personnel are no longer the go-to folks for good music. Period. There’s a boatload of music out there to discover by artists who don’t have the payola or fame but they definitely have the chops and something to say beyond the usual sex, drugs, cars heard on radio --daily. Internet radio understands there is life and music beyond Rihanna, Beyonce, Jay-Z and Wiz Khalifa. Personally, I prefer chops and those stations deliver. How else would I have ever learned about Hill St. Soul, Zap Mama, Stephen Simmonds, Amy Winehouse?

I digress. In 2007-08, Amy had little to no presence in the U.S. If she had any, it was thanks to deejays who actually knew a little something about music with access and interest to that only found abroad (think Mark Ronson). Pandora and ProjectVibe played songs from Amy's Frank cd which was released in the UK only initially (2003). My favorites, all played regularly by internet radio were:

• Valerie (a collaboration with Mark Ronson)
• B’Boy Baby (with former Sugarbabe Mutya Buena)
• F-Me Pumps
• Stronger Than Me
• Amy, Amy, Amy

I found her music raw and gutsy. From the first lines of F-Me Pumps, I realized that this was a girl who required a parental, advisory sticker. And I loved it. She sang about whatever she wanted and it was in such a way that held my attention. She was like a white, Mary J Blige/Millie Jackson. This was the stuff my parents would kick the kids out the house so they could listen in private (even when there was snow on the ground!). Not long after, I heard and saw the video for Rehab (her latest release) on a music website. They made her look really pretty and sassy in that video. Then, I had no idea that song was a serious testimony about her life. I just dug it. So, I promptly ordered her cd from Amazon as an import (the only option at the time). I paid about $28 plus shipping from the UK. Yikes! It was costly but worth every penny. I LOVED it- cussing, warts and all. The girl sounded like she’d been through a few things and I related. I considered her cd my personally discovered, secret gem of music!

I love liner notes and learned that Amy wrote or co-wrote much of her own lyrics! Thumbs up for that alone! By the time Back to Black was released stateside, I was looking forward to her next release. About 6 months later and much to my chagrin, Back to Black was released in the U.S. Amy's music caught on wildly in the U.S. It’s not often a singer can hit the US ground running. She didn’t seem to work hard for fame here as she won a Grammy her first year out the gate.

The toll of fame however, appeared far too high a price to pay for Amy. Her public appearances from the very beginning were sketchy and suspect… The whole ordeal had a very… Video Killed the Radio Star feel. She was incredibly skinny, teeth in bad shape, bad hair and just in seemingly bad, physical shape. And as that Amy emerged and grew in popularity, the chances of a new release began to fade with every public appearance. Those chances were replaced by reasons she should go forth immediately to rehab. Eerily reminiscent of her Rehab song, her father pleaded that she get help. But she said- no. And then yes. And then no again. It became a horrible cycle. Her health and the bit of star power she had gained began to fade. From the start, Amy's music represented and made the listener feel the pain she endured. I always thought it was the cry of a jilted lover. Remnants of pain suffered at the hands of some wayward man, or love lost. Perhaps, that was the catalyst. However, in the end her demise came from the hands at the end of her own wrists; a desire for substances her body loved and hated at once. While we can't put a parental advisory sticker on illegal drugs, we do need to put one on life, big enough that our kids can always see them as they navigate and pursue their dreams. 27 is awfully young to die. Amy fell victim to the same issue as so many other could-have-been-legends... Fame and drugs. She is not the first or last and therefore no more special. Yet somewhere, sadly... there is another. And, since Amy never found peace in rehab with the living, I pray she has found it now in the ultimate... fade to black.