Nothing much left to say. The obvious things - her joining the "stupid club" of musical self-destructive genuises of 27 who die young of excess - the tragic waste - the talent - were obvious. The moment I saw the news, though, I was shaken. Amy Winehouse, unlike Adele, actually was a genius - a genuinely troubled soul, with the ability to sing her heart out. The Beatles had Martin; she had Ronson. She declined almost as soon as she reached the heights in 2006. Five years was a long time to falter in public, and her missing out on the Bond theme, and the broken promises and failed rehab stints, as well as the late-night punch ups and fall-downs began to create a counter-canon of pathos, or bathos. What I cannot accept is that no one cared enough to intervene and put a stop to the ruinous life mistakes. Too many of the tweeting names who apparently loved here are hedonistic night-livers with one foot in the grave themselves, up to their necks in dope and crack. Conductors of chaos, they could no more get her off those tracks than halt the engines of excess; those closest to her egged her on, more than they carried her away, to a safer, saner, environment. So - we have a handful of classic songs, likely to be standards, and a myth that's been made. What we don't have is a living person, anymore, who could have sung to us for far longer, under better circumstances. Fade to Black.
THAT HANDSOME MAN A PERSONAL BRIEF REVIEW BY TODD SWIFT I could lie and claim Larkin, Yeats , or Dylan Thomas most excited me as a young poet, or even Pound or FT Prince - but the truth be told, it was Thom Gunn I first and most loved when I was young. Precisely, I fell in love with his first two collections, written under a formalist, Elizabethan ( Fulke Greville mainly), Yvor Winters triad of influences - uniquely fused with an interest in homerotica, pop culture ( Brando, Elvis , motorcycles). His best poem 'On The Move' is oddly presented here without the quote that began it usually - Man, you gotta go - which I loved. Gunn was - and remains - so thrilling, to me at least, because so odd. His elegance, poise, and intelligence is all about display, about surface - but the surface of a panther, who ripples with strength beneath the skin. With Gunn, you dressed to have sex. Or so I thought. Because I was queer (I maintain the right to lay claim to that
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I spent this afternoon playing Amy Winehouse's first album Frank. I was going to follow it up with her second, Back to Black but I felt too depressed to continue. It's all just a senseless waste of life, talent, and everything else positive or optimistic.
Best wishes from Simon