Finding Amy

As we get older we often overlook what is going on popular culture. We catch a random headline and dismiss it. There are far too many things to pay attention to in this wonderful world of “adulting”. Then there are those rare times when, years later, we realize what we missed.  This is exactly what happened to me when I stumbled into the incredible artistry and tormented world of Amy Winehouse.

I had heard parts of the track “Back to Black” in the background at a music shop I used to manage. In retrospect that should have been my first clue. Anything that can provide some sort of ambient distraction from the cacophony of teenagers cranking up Line 6 amplifiers and three people bashing on drum sets at the same time must have merit. I knew it was Amy I was hearing on the store overhead music. I must have seen the cd cover somewhere because I knew the title. I only half hardheartedly paid attention because it had a touch of the Phil and Ronnie Spector sound . I have always been a huge fan of the famous Spector “Wall of Sound”. I’m a sucker for that vibe. Modern artists don’t usually tread into those retro waters.

Flash forward several years later. I was blitzing through another all nighter of plowing through spreadsheets, research, website updates, emails and the usual gaggle of laptop gymnastics that are common in my world of entrepreneurial pursuits. Everyone knows that there is a constant struggle to avoid the dreaded YouTube wormhole during late night computer sessions. It only takes one thing to get into your brain’s idea box then all productivity is lost. My headphones were firmly wrapped around my skull feeding my ears random tunes and a few podcasts. Suddenly I remembered part of the chorus I heard several years ago. I searched for “Amy Winehouse”. Now my wormhole journey began. I discovered something so much deeper than what I had mistakenly dismissed as the latest pop star flash just a few years ago. I was suddenly hit with the onslaught of what it was all about.

 Amy’s emotions and very essence are in every line she sang. Her songs are the road map that lead us through her moments of frailty, bravado, pain, codependency and yearning for love and acceptance. All of this is wrapped in the context of incredibly crafted compositions that are jazzy but mixed with contemporary elements. The musical styling almost cloaks some of the grittier lyrical content. Typically rawer lyrics and profanity are simply brought into a modern songs for shock value or to earn the “explicit lyrics” badge of honor. Other times “bad words” are simply due to the lack of songwriting depth. None of that is the case with Amy. In her case I really feel like she is telling the story exactly how she would if she called you on the phone in the middle of the night to tell you what was going on in her life at that exact moment. Her delivery is completely honest, emotional, raw, urgent and unfiltered.

Some of my favorites are the intimate three piece shows where Amy accompanied by a guitar player and a bassist . Her her vulnerability , her story, and her reality are presented in such a soulful nature. I reread lyrics. I have binged on every interview, obscure track , and video I could find.

Amy was surrounded by people who were unable to treat the things that drove her towards her addictions.  Nowhere is this more evident than in the song “Rehab”. While leaving rehab early wasn’t unusual for Amy’s roller coaster lifestyle it wasn’t because she didn’t want to quit. The chemical addiction was a result of the problem.

 

What also needs to be pointed out it is Amy had not been taking hard drugs for quite sometime prior to her death. Most accounts say she had been out of the hard drugs for a couple of years. There were no signs of drugs in her system or in her apartment when she died. Perhaps getting away from some of the opportunistic parasites and junkie lovers that were at the center her romances helped her clear that hurdle. Unfortunately those battles left plenty emotional and physical damage.

   Amy still looked to alcohol to fill her emptiness. In the final weeks of her life she was dropping a ton of money trying to get clean at a resort. She had found solitude and was once again trying to get sober. Unfortunately she was pressured to cut this rehabilitative getaway short when a new tour was booked. The money machine was starting to crank up. She was the center of everyone’s income. The tour began and ended after one performance. She made it to the disastrous opening show in Belgrade. Amy was incoherent. She was clearly distraught and out of it. The thousands of concert goers in attendance booed her off the stage.

The footage of that Belgrade performance brings me to tears. That opening night lead to the whole tour being cancelled. She had no business being put on the road so soon after appearing to be sober for a few weeks. When so many people need to make money off of the artist, handlers put their pocket books ahead of the artist’s well being. I feel it should have been clear that a sudden tour was not the best thing for her at that time. The risk was greater than the reward. She died of alcohol poisoning 5 days after the Belgrade debacle.
Juxtapose that with her song “Wake Up Alone”. If only she could have done another 180.

 

“When I catch myself, I do a one-eighty
I stay up, clean the house
At least I’m not drinking
Run around just so I don’t have to think about thinking
That silent sense of content
That everyone gets
Just disappears ‘soon as the sun sets…”

 

Amy wanted to make people happy. Unfortunately she could never find a lasting happiness of her own. She also had too many predators and enablers around her. Too many people needed a piece of the cash flow. Perhaps others around her were too inexperienced or too blind to see the root of her problem. We certainly know many were only thinking of themselves and the pursuit of the all mighty dollar. She was pursued by a media circus that was waiting for her to die. The high stakes world of the paparazzi vulture culture put a lot of dollars on the table for the latest compromising photo of her self destruction. Eventually they picked the carcass clean.

   Like all of us, Amy was ultimately responsible for her own decisions. She paid the ultimate price. There are elements of her story that are similar to other sensitive artists that suddenly are thrust into a world they weren’t prepared to be a part of. Everything is available and everyone wants a piece of the fame. The dregs come out of the woodwork and immediately attach themselves to the fame. I will leave it up to you to read about the relationships and the people that were in her life. Draw your own conclusions.

Perhaps my own history with alcohol is one of the reasons I find myself connected to her music. I don’t know how many times I might have been close to drinking myself to death because none of us even think about that when we are chasing our demons with a bottle. I am sure at some point I was closer to death than than I will ever know. My massive exploration of all things Amy makes me feel like I am watching a movie where I just want to yell , “DON’T DO THAT ! STOP ! The killer is behind the door!”. We all know, that exclamation doesn’t change the movie. The ankle always twists. The victim always falls. The killer gets the prey. The end doesn’t change.

The best way to partake in the unifying force of music is by sharing what inspires you- Cranial Circus