Amy Winehouse: Soul Leaves, Soul Stays

If memory serves me right, the first time I encountered Amy Winehouse was last 2007, when I came across an article about her in a magazine. She was just coming out into the showbiz consciousness. It wasn’t long until my uncle handed me a copy of Back to Black. When I first heard “Rehab,” I was instantly swept by her groove and her voice. I had heard nothing like it. During the time, I was into the post-emo and post-punk (I didn’t know what it was called then) alternative rock that adolescents like myself so fancied. I was a dilettante with my jazz and blues taste but Amy Winehouse practically kicked the barrier down. She, Michael Buble and Frank Sinatra made the big band less alien, hence more relatable.

Amy wrote from the heart. She knew she had demons within her and made no bones about it. Her struggles with drug addiction, alcohol and love were in the lyrics she penned. Though the honesty was admirable, other people decided to take it against her. She was criticized and harangued. Controversy fed on her even more. Such are some consequences of wearing one’s heart on the sleeve.

Her soul may have left her body but it will never leave her music. It will never leave the hearts of those who have been touched by the flawed beauty of her voice and lyrics. I will always have a soft spot for Back to Black. Rest in pace, Amy.

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