A few months ago, after she’d once more hit the headlines, I asked my son Alexander – keen musician that he is – what Amy Winehouse’s music was like. “I think it’s not bad,” he said. A more cynical parent might translate that as “dunno”. I decided to find out, but then forgot.
Last night, she was all over the telly for all the wrong reasons , again, and I resolved again to have a shufty behind the news and the striking looks. Easier said than done, as I was away from home and straightforward access to the Internet. Aha! “Virgin Bites”, on the phone. So I downloaded the MP3 of Back to Black (the single) last night, and got around to playing it this morning waiting for my lift into work.
It blew my socks off.
What a lovely big fat smoky voice, somewhere between Billie Holiday and Shirley Bassey: and some more. And an excellent arrangement, production, the whole bit. One listen, and that was me. I envisage that voice keeping me company in Libya.
It’s not all good news, though. The download cost me thirty bob, for just that one track, and when I tried to Bluetooth it onto the laptop, found out that it’s somehow locked into the ‘phone, where it must stay. Bugger them. It was a good enough sample to persuade me to get both of her albums, as soon as poss.
I had thought recently that I would stay with all my old music, that there was nothing new around I wanted to hear. I was wrong.