I'm no good

The first time I heard Amy Jade Winehouse I was driving to Cleveland in a three door Saturn that had the bad habit of discard engines like I did hair colors. I loved that little car, even though it was temperamental and had a peculiar color (people said maroon, but I said Bordeaux, because of course I did). I later learned they don't make them anymore. I loved that car. While driving, Amy came on the radio and my friend and I looked at each other and basically went: WHO IS THAT? It was Rehab. And we were hooked. We bought the CD on our way back home and played it nonstop for days. A week later I bought Frank. And the rest is history.

When I like an artist, it usually happens like that. In a second, I'm a fan. Amy was the soundtrack of that part of my life, from around 2006 and even to this day listen to her songs. Her lyrics always spoke to me. Her voice (what I'd learn to know as a passionate alcohol-soaked growl and that unmistakably behind-the-beat phrasing) always sends me. Every. Fucking. Time.

Today it's been nine years since she died. I'm still not over it and never will, so I decided to make a post in her honor. So here's to you, Miss Winehouse.

In My Bed

Now it's not hard to understand
Why we just speak at night
The only time I hold your hand
Is to get the angle right
Everything is slowing down
River of no return
You recognise my every sound
There's nothing new to learn



This song slays me. I've been in this relationship she's singing about here, that's for sure. She seems to have read my mind when she wrote it. I've been led to sleep with a man because we were 'together' but there was not really much keeping us in the relationship but the passing comfort of sex. Absolute inertia. It's that relationship that stays alive by willpower. You know it's ending but you just cannot let go. And then one day, it's over. Just like that. You just cannot keep up with the charade and he's gone.


Fuck Me Pumps

You did too much E, met somebody
And spent the night getting caned
Without girls like you there'd be no fun
We'd go to the club and not see anyone
Without girls like you there's no nightlife
All those men just go home to their wives
Don't be mad at me 'cause you're pushing thirty
And your old tricks no longer work
You should have known from the jump
that you'd always get dumped
So dust off your fuck me pumps



I HAD this acquaintance. I KNEW this person. This song reminds me of those men who used to get into too tight Abercrombie and Fitch t-shirts and ripped jeans and flip-flops in the dead of November and prowl the gay bars in Cleveland. We have all met them: with the spray tan, the penchant for E, the cruise ship and White Party stories. The Gucci wallet that you knew was a gift and the frosted tips that hid a bald spot. Amy nails it. As always.

Also, I do want a big baller. A rich man, six-foot-two or taller.


You Know I'm No Good

I'm in the tub, you on the seat
Lick your lips as I soak my feet
Then you notice likkle carpet burn
My stomach drop and my guts churn
You shrug and it's the worst
Who truly stuck the knife in first?
I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told you I was trouble
You know that I'm no good



This has been me, to be frank. Quite literally, too. He was a good man. I was a lousy little bitch, too young and too stupid to understand what we had. Oh, I warned him I was no good. Many times. And still, he stuck around. We lasted about seven years and we broke up because I was going to grad school in WV. This song still kinda tears me up, because I have not talked to him in many, many years. I sometimes wonder what he's up to but I don't dare find out. I'm a coward.

Valerie

Since I've come home
Well my body's been a mess
And I've missed your ginger hair
And the way you like to dress
Won't you come on over?
Stop makin' a fool, out of me
Why don't you come on over Valerie..
Valerie, Valerie, Valerie...



I have no idea why this song affects me so. I'ts about a girl, after all. But her voice! That phrasing! Also, this song kind of came out of nowhere and it hit me. It's a Mark Ronson collab and she sang it live at a Brits award in 2008. And there was Amy. A wisp of a girl, all eyeliner and beehive and high heels, singing in that voice of hers. I could not get it out of my head for weeks. The video is basically an homage to Amy because she does not appear in it. I had never listened to the original version of the song until recently. Amy's blows it out of the water, IMHO.

Amy's voice has always gotten under my skin and her songs make me stop whatever I'm doing to pay attention.  And I think this song is proof of that. I think it is one of my fav songs and I don't even know why. I think her passing was tragic and unnecessary. Fame crushed her. People want to be famous but they have no idea what that means. Amy was in a collusion course with destiny, I guess. A fragile soul with an uncanny talent for songwriting and a voice like few. I have all her records. I also have my very own Amy Winehouse days, usually in winter. It may be the lack of sunshine. I'm a tropical fruit, natch. Usually when it's snowing I need a moment to myself and there's always Amy to keep me company.

Hope you found peace, Amy. You were gone way too soon.

XOXO