Amy Winehouse...It's all in the name. Only problem is, wine didn't cut the mustard. On second thought, neither did marijuana, hard liquor, prescription pills, illegal street drugs, or any combination there of. When you're 26 abd a hot pop singer in the UK, what better way to spend the day than to spend it "in a boat on a river, with tangerine people and marmalade skies?" I started hearing about this troubled singer about six months ago, when she first splashed onto the Billboard music charts and more often than not, the tabloids. This sounded like someone who needed help and was looking for it in all the wrong places. I usually keep my distance from Xerox copied top 40 songs however, my curiosity got the better of me and I had to hear for myself what all the "hubba-ballou" was all about. Surprisingly, this crap is good. A good kind of crap. With hints of classic 1960's Motown mixed in with R&B and Soul. It's kind of weird that some youngin' from overseas used these genres together to come up with a refreshing sound. Putting all that nonsense aside, what makes this young woman tick and why is she still painstakingly clinging on to a miserable life? She's become a parody of suicide and places the word in a negative light. Hey, it's downright insulting to all those before her who did the job and did it right, like Adolph Hitler for example. It's out of my element to piece together a "shopping list" of all this kid's issues but, in recent months, her partying lifestyle has pushed her closer to the edge. Hell, she's got enough toxins in her system to kill a stable of horses. Superman would even be crawling on his hands and knees after this! According to her, all the dope and booze are merely "recreational" as she continues to deny, deny, deny. Was her first U.S. single Rehab intended to be some sort of therapy? If that's a good idea then Dr. Phil makes Dr. Sigmund Freud looke like a quack. Someone needs to hurry up and write a Suicide For Dummies How-To book because she's not getting it. Not only are all the toxins affecting her body but, most notably, her mind. Just the other day Winehouse got herself into one dilly of a pickle in her hpmeland across the big pond, and what she said made Michael Richard's (Kramer from Seinfeld) racist rant from a few years ago look like a few lines yanked from a Walt Disney film. Her and her husband sat in front of a table filled with an A to Z assortment of pills, booze, and drugs while Winehouse and a friend added racist lyrics to a song that didn't leave anyone out of the picture. Next day, her manager shoved her out of her apartment where a weeping Amy expressed herself with a heartfelt apology. That was it...case closed. Notice how we didn't see Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson hopping on a Virgin Airline flight to London to set her straight! I'd predict some kind of rally or boycott concocted by the two if and when she comes to America on tour. Trouble is, Amy gets so strung out onstage that she passes out halfway through the first song. She wants to quit but by golly, doesn't need any more af that rehab garbage. The 12 step program has 11 steps that will never get stepped on by her. Oh yeah, that crystal meth is some good junk despite the fact you quit eating and lose your teeth. It's almost painful to watch her die a slow, painful death when it would be a lot easier to hang or shoot herself, or slit her wrists. Sad thing is, she probably won't make it to 27 and her music catalog will skyrocket in value just like John Lennon. She IS "The gorl with kaleidescope eyes" that Lennon and McCartney wrote about. Kinda eerie ain't it?
