Amy Winehouse died today.
Being 26 years old, this is the closest in age I have been to an important and famous singer’s untimely death, as she was the golden age of Rock and Roll, 27. At the time of writing, I do not know why, but as many have conjectured so far, it is likely drug related.
I don’t really know how to process this- It’s not like I knew her or anything, and she hasn’t made very many media appearances since 2008 or so, I was hoping she would recover. It hurts, and it’s weird. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to react to celebrity deaths in my own age group. She was the first female singer that I really got into, and opened the door to a lot of other female singers that I was unaware of. Her voice and persona were untouched by any other woman I’ve heard. She embodied sorrow. Everything about her was sad. She was a living blues song. Not since the 60’s has a woman’s voice captivated the world like hers.
My thoughts and prayers are with her and her family, and her Blake Incarcerated. I’m not going to weigh in on anything else about her; I believe there will be enough of that in the coming hours and days. She had a lot of weight to carry on those shoulders, and I can understand how she wouldn’t be able to handle it all. It’s also disgusting all the celebrity gossip pages covering this. I don’t understand how you can do that; being that judgmental and invasive throughout someone’s life, and also covering news about their death. It has to be awkward, and require many suspensions of one’s convictions. It’s sickening.
Regardless, she was a talented and tragic artist, and it is just unfortunate. Her version of Valerie blew me away, as well as Back to Black on the whole. I believe she occupied my iTunes top 25 for a long time when that album was new. Hopefully she’s in a better place.