It is hard to find eloquent words that befit the way we both feel about Amy Winehouse and her music. Even thinking/talking about her now gives us goosebumps and brings tears to our eyes. Many a’night we have spent warbling away to her heartbreaking and moving lyricism and soaking up her feisty attitude. Of any troubled celebrity it was ALWAYS her that we prayed would rise like a phoenix from the flames. Yet that was not to be. So in the absence of articulate expression we have found two writers that beautifully express our feelings for this talented young lady. One thing that is for certain – any future generations of our families will be forced to listen to the Winehouse back catalogue for years to come. Musically, she is an artist that we should all feel lucky to have had a chance to witness to in our lifetime…

“Pop music had often cast women as sweet, bright creatures, but Winehouse’s lyrics revealed something mulchier, messier. Here was a woman who refused to conform – not in the eccentric mad woman in the attic mould of Kate Bush or Björk, but a woman who chose to live a little wild, follow her heart and sing of the simple stew of being female. Her songs were filled with broad talk, cussing, drink and drugs and dicks, songs that could hinge on one magnificent, unladylike question: “What kind of fuckery is this?”

amy copy

Reposted from Tuesday 26 July 2011 


“Of course nothing lasts for ever, but some things endure, even as, and maybe because, they haunt . To find a lasting treasure in all the momentary pleasures of the Winehouse oeuvre, all you have to do is listen harder. And then do it again, and keep doing it, until you feel life changing around you”


Reposted from Sunday 8th September 2013 theindependent.co.uk

Photos:  Max Vadukul©  & Abél Caldéroné©  


Amy Winehouse Exhibition – “A Family Portrait” at the Jewish Museum

The Jewish Museum is the perfectly understated venue chosen by Alex Winehouse to display intimate possessions of his late sister Amy. This is no overblown, invasive peep-show depicting the caricature created by the press; this is a tribute to the person Alex spent his childhood with – a person who was not a modern day martyr but a normal girl with an extraordinary talent thrust into the limelight. This exhibition steers clear of the destructive end that befell Winehouse and instead stoically focuses on her heritage and what made her the person she was.

Walking in, it is uncertain whether one will be exiting with tear-filled eyes, yet this is a family affair and an attempt by a sibling to show that behind all the hype was a normal North London Jewish girl. Its motivation is to explain the amalgamation of positive influences that shaped Winehouse – not the tragic, doomed waif that the public judged, pitied and mourned.

The music filling the room is not Amy’s, it is a playlist she created of her favourite songs – songs by Ronnie Scott, Sarah Vaughan and 60s girl groups. It is these songs that shaped her musical and fashion style, her beehive, her tattoos, her strikingly individual voice and poetic lyricism.

Winehouse’s application to Sylvia Young lines the walls, her childlike scrawl poignantly revealing the now famous quote “I want people to hear my voice and just… forget their troubles for five minutes”. We gaze upon school uniforms and family photos – not just of the singer but of her Jewish ancestry and her much loved Grandma Cynthia.

Clothes (revealing just how tiny she was) are in display cases: her Glastonbury dress, her dress from the Tears Dry on Their Own video, and more. It is disquieting to be gazing at clothes worn by a woman who should only be turning 30 this year.

By the exit are decorative bird cages owned by Winehouse. One can’t help but feel that this is a metaphor for the life she was forced to lead. Recently Alex Winehouse, speaking publically for the first time, has been quoted as saying Amy “was pretty much shut in the house and couldn’t go anywhere” due to press. Sarah Vaughan’s lyrics (covered in October Song) now ring true: “lovebird, my beautiful bird/ spoke until one day she couldn’t be heard”.

Our rating: ***** (obviously)

Anne x