My last purchase before going home was “Lioness: Hidden Treasures”, Amy Winehouse’s posthumous album. I couldn’t really leave the UK without buying it. Unlike some morbid last-minute music “lovers”, I can say that I’ve been with Amy until the very end. And, most importantly, from the beginning.
I don’t like posthumous albums. There’s always something so damn lucrative about them. They always make me sad and everyone seems to have to say that they’re good, just because the artist is dead. But I won’t lie: I liked “Lioness”. Sure, the whole “She’s dead, so I’ll write something about her” by Mark Ronson, her father, her mother and SaLaAM ReMi are a bit excessive to my eyes. I’ve always preferred low-key grieving to public stuff. But hey, that’s their choice of remembering her.
I loved Amy’s songs. It wasn’t just because they were popular: I’m generally not into popular music anyway. But she was an artist who could write her own songs and have an identity, someone who opened the path to Adele and others. Her songs are deeply felt and describe the life and habits of someone who wasn’t a role model (and didn’t pretend to be one), but who has left her mark on modern music.
Among my favourites in this album there’s “Between the Cheats”, which shows Winehouse’s talent in describing heart-breaking, wrong relationships. The song has both bitterness (“Women drink him in”) and love (“I would die before I divorce ya, I’d take a thousand thumps for my love”) and ends with the heartbreaking : “Cause we all have to lock eyes, and I know is my heart beat. There’s a winning secret to both, and it’s sworn between the cheats”.
The tender “Will you still love me tomorrow?” pictures everyone’s fears candidly: “Tonight the light of love is in your eyes. Will you still love me tomorrow? Is this a lasting treasure or just a moment’s pleasure?”. “A song for you”, “Best Friends, Right?” and almost the whole album show Amy’s greatest merit after her voice: having readopted a style from the past mixing it with new sounds, and totally modern lyrics.
Lioness also features two duets, one very different than the other: the first one is “Like Smoke”, a rap song with Nas; the second is the beautiful “Body and Soul” with idol Tony Bennett, a song that could be part of a black-and-white movie. Some might consider it pointless publishing other versions of her previous songs, but I actually liked that too. Both “Tears Dry” and “Wake Up Alone”, original versions of the song appearing in “Back To Black”, sound much deeper and sadder.
The idea of regret that the songs convey is much clearer in these versions. And come on: “I cannot play myself again, I should not be my own best friend, not fuck myself in the head with stupid men” is something I could say. Something everyone, every girl could identify herself with. Because this is what Amy was: someone with whom you can identify yourself with.
It’s not because she drank a lot or did drugs, but because she was like every girl: at one point, you’ll always feel fragile. You’ll always feel sad, you’ll always feel you have made the wrong choices. You’ll always think you’re “not good.” So, in my opinion, what’s wrong with the album is not its existence, but just its title: the only thing that made Amy Winehouse a lioness was her voice. Apart from that, she was just like all of us: that’s why I love her.
Photos from Amy Winehouse Foundation