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soubriquet

Amy Winehouse dead

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Originally Posted By: grungy-gonads
The only 'talent' I saw her have was the ability to consume vast quantities of drugs and alcohol.

As well as making bloody annoying music.



Discussion also here:
http://www.snowjapanforums.com/ubbthread...rformances.html


Yes, very talented!

Serious question, what was her talent supposed to be? confused

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She abused that, even, with all her ChavStamps! wink

 

You know, people dying isn't good, of course.

But I'm not into all this sort-of-Princess-Di kind of mass mourning and everyone stating and telling me how amazing she was. [Especially as she so clearly wasn't].

All way over the top and, well, the reality is that she was a completely messed up full-on junkie.

What exactly is it that we are supposed to be looking up to?

Hardly the role model for da kids.

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I'll put in my...Meh!, People die...move on. If you wanna kill yourself, fine...just don't drag anyone along with ya. Next.

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Originally Posted By: fukdane
Never heard of her. And on the evidence above, wish I hadn't!!


Same here, never heard of her. Doesn't look like I missed much.

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Of course there has to be an "Amy Winehouse is dead" thread, but I'm surprises Soub started it. Didn't think you liked anything since the 50's, Soub.

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A little insight.

 

Anyone that can't read Russel Brands @rustyrockets Tweet about Amy here it is.

 

 

When you love someone who suffers from the disease of addiction you await the phone call. There will be a phone call. The sincere hope is that the call will be from the addict themselves, telling you they’ve had enough, that they’re ready to stop, ready to try something new. Of course though, you fear the other call, the sad nocturnal chime from a friend or relative telling you it’s too late, she’s gone.

 

Frustratingly it’s not a call you can ever make it must be received. It is impossible to intervene.

 

I’ve known Amy Winehouse for years. When I first met her around Camden she was just some twit in a pink satin jacket shuffling round bars with mutual friends, most of whom were in cool Indie bands or peripheral Camden figures Withnail-ing their way through life on impotent charisma. Carl Barrat told me that “Winehouse†(which I usually called her and got a kick out of cos it’s kind of funny to call a girl by her surname) was a jazz singer, which struck me as a bizarrely anomalous in that crowd. To me with my limited musical knowledge this information placed Amy beyond an invisible boundary of relevance; “Jazz singer? She must be some kind of eccentric†I thought. I chatted to her anyway though, she was after all, a girl, and she was sweet and peculiar but most of all vulnerable.

 

I was myself at that time barely out of rehab and was thirstily seeking less complicated women so I barely reflected on the now glaringly obvious fact that Winehouse and I shared an affliction, the disease of addiction. All addicts, regardless of the substance or their social status share a consistent and obvious symptom; they’re not quite present when you talk to them. They communicate to you through a barely discernible but un-ignorable veil. Whether a homeless smack head troubling you for 50p for a cup of tea or a coked-up, pinstriped exec foaming off about his “speedboat†there is a toxic aura that prevents connection. They have about them the air of elsewhere, that they’re looking through you to somewhere else they’d rather be. And of course they are. The priority of any addict is to anaesthetise the pain of living to ease the passage of the day with some purchased relief.

 

From time to time I’d bump into Amy she had good banter so we could chat a bit and have a laugh, she was “a character†but that world was riddled with half cut, doped up chancers, I was one of them, even in early recovery I was kept afloat only by clinging to the bodies of strangers so Winehouse, but for her gentle quirks didn’t especially register.

 

Then she became massively famous and I was pleased to see her acknowledged but mostly baffled because I’d not experienced her work and this not being the 1950’s I wondered how a “jazz singer†had achieved such cultural prominence. I wasn’t curious enough to do anything so extreme as listen to her music or go to one of her gigs, I was becoming famous myself at the time and that was an all consuming experience. It was only by chance that I attended a Paul Weller gig at the Roundhouse that I ever saw her live.

 

I arrived late and as I made my way to the audience through the plastic smiles and plastic cups I heard the rolling, wondrous resonance of a female vocal. Entering the space I saw Amy on stage with Weller and his band; and then the awe. 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 **** genius.

 

Shallow fool that I am I now regarded her in a different light, the light that blazed down from heaven when she sang. That lit her up now and a new phase in our friendship began. She came on a few of my TV and radio shows, I still saw her about but now attended to her with a little more interest. Publicly though, Amy increasingly became defined by her addiction. Our media though is more interested in tragedy than talent, so the ink began to defect from praising her gift to chronicling her downfall. The destructive personal relationships, the blood soaked ballet slippers, the aborted shows, that youtube madness with the baby mice. In the public perception this ephemeral tittle-tattle replaced her timeless talent. This and her manner in our occasional meetings brought home to me the severity of her condition. Addiction is a serious disease; it will end with jail, mental institutions or death. I was 27 years old when through the friendship and help of Chip Somers of the treatment centre, Focus12 I found recovery, through Focus I was introduced to support fellowships for alcoholics and drug addicts which are very easy to find and open to anybody with a desire to stop drinking and without which I would not be alive.

 

Now Amy Winehouse is dead, like many others whose unnecessary deaths have been retrospectively romanticised, at 27 years old. Whether this tragedy was preventable or not is now irrelevant. It is not preventable today. We have lost a beautiful and talented woman to this disease. Not all addicts have Amy’s incredible talent. Or Kurt’s or Jimi’s or Janis’s, some people just get the affliction. All we can do is adapt the way we view this condition, not as a crime or a romantic affectation but as a disease that will kill. We need to review the way society treats addicts, not as criminals but as sick people in need of care. We need to look at the way our government funds rehabilitation. It is cheaper to rehabilitate an addict than to send them to prison, so criminalisation doesn’t even make economic sense. Not all of us know someone with the incredible talent that Amy had but we all know drunks and junkies and they all need help and the help is out there. All they have to do is pick up the phone and make the call. Or not. Either way, there will be a phone call.

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Originally Posted By: panhead_pete
She was a **** genius.


Sorry but...

Was she bollocks.
She was a **** junkie.
All this flowering up of the truth to cover it up.
Skanky junkie.

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My favorite singer, Dave Gahan, used to be addicted to heroin and nearly (actually!) died because of it.

 

As much as I love the music he makes, I think he was an utter fool and certainy don't respect him for it.

 

He's clean now happily.

 

Amy seems like she has always been a mess. And I don't like her music, can't see any 'genius' there at all.

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Having a junk habit is just that. Like the folks listed above who are all significant cultural contributors. Sometimes we need to see past that. Her albumn "Back to Black" is a cracker and she won a truck load of Grammys. This girl had TALENT but made some poor life choices. Just kind of sad really.

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Right, I see. Wow.

 

"Truck load of grammys".... haha, a surer sign there has never been of something not being good!

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Junkies

 

Her voice was amazing, much more suited to some black diva from teh American south, I was surprised when I found out she was a white English chick. Addicts need help.......yeah they do, but the first stage of help that they need is a realisation in themselves that they MUST change, not some wishy-washy trainspotting-esque declaration that "they're off the scag". They need to be the ones that seek help, not blame their troubles on not getting help. For people like Winehouse and Doherty, with the financial means to do something about their "disease", there is no excuse for not getting help if that is truly what they want. I could understand (yet not condone) the trouble non-famous/rich junkies have at trying to access a program that is actually going to change their life....get them out of their poverty, get them out of their personal rabbit hole (again if thats what they truly want), but I reckon celebrities who have the financial clout to truly reach out and get the best help but don't are people that have chosen to be in the that type of life wholeheartedly and don't deserve our pity.

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