Yeah. Okay. I've seen the name before. Up until about a month and a half ago I had never heard any of her music. And then, my good friend takes me to a glitter-drag night club complete with fab-oo lipsynchers. One of the girls did the song "Rehab". By the end of that little number my jaw was on the ground. But I couldn't deny that her voice was smokey and deliciously hypnotic. The content, however, was surprising and confusing at the same time.
Fast forward to the middle of July. I can't dream without Amy's "Rehab" single showing up on the damn soundtrack. The potency of my intrigue and interest has been significantly diminished because of the over-exposure. I listened to bits of the album "Back to Black" and I think it's pretty damn groovy. A good purchase for any lovers of this music genre (lots of brass and blues).
The disturbing part comes when you actually look at Ms. Winehouse. She has a quasi-junkie look going on. Her hair is usually matted and wild. And she's dangerously close to being as thick around the middle as a Swiffer Sweeper broom handle. The worst of it comes when you learn that she has a ghoulish habit of spitting. Yep. S-P-I-T-T-I-N-G. The New York Post has the full story here. But this has seriously turned me off from even wanting to fully own one of her albums now or in the future. I mean, I expect this from a 3-year-old throwing a tantrum at the local Pathmark because he wants a box of Frankenberry. Not from a woman who's practically staring 30 in the face.
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