Amy, Amy, Amy…
It’s been over a year now, and I’m still listening to you. I’ve listened to Back to Black at least once a week since “it” happened. There is not a single bad track.
Yes, I know that “you are no good,” but really, you are very, very good. This album can be deceptive. A few listens, and anyone can catch all the surface meanings. But if you dig deep, you realize how much of a poet Amy was. Especially in “You Know I’m No Good,” “Back to Black,” and “Wake Up Alone,” she captures the longing and despair of love so well that it is uncanny. She puts you there, in the situation and moment, that you can’t help but feel along with her and get a taste of what we’ve all been through. All I have to do is change all the pronouns to “she,” and it feels like she’s singing about me.
That’s what’s great about Amy – she’s utterly relatable. And then, there are the hooks and the catchy melodies that will not be able to be replicated by anyone else. I loved Amy for her brutal honesty, her grittiness, her not being afraid to be real and call it how it was. I was hoping for a couple more albums out of her. I had to settle for Lioness: Hidden Treasures, I guess. Still, Amy’s leftovers are better than Adele’s chart-toppers (sorry, but that comparison was inevitable).
As a fan of jazz, I could not ask for more out of a songwriter. Hell, even Frank was amazing, but Back to Black was her masterpiece. It deserves all the hype it gets, and more.
Thanks, Amy. You are still missed, by at least this fan.