As People magazine puts it: “It would be a shame not to be able to separate the music from the mess that this British chanteuse became…“
Amy Winehouse and her hideous beehive do aside (I’m deeply sorry, but i think a thousand bees could be hidden in that hair of hers and there’s no way a thousand bees would ever qualify as style in my terms), this song is worth more than a spin or two. It is effortlessly, almost languorously sexy and is all old-school glam jazz.
I get hooked onto songs for periods of time simply because those specific songs appeal to me then and there. Songs are the archives of my life, therefore the entire category devoted to music on this blog=)
Twenty years down the road, when I am old and feeble, and when the radio plays You Know I’m No Good, I will recall late nights in my youth. Nights like tonight, when I am marking away with two hairclips holding my fringe in place while trying to imagine that I am actually slinking away in a silk nightie, and instead of stacks of papers, I am lying down on stacks of cold hard cash.
Ok, maybe not exactly like this:p
Now YOU know i’m no good when brandishing that red pen- rather than focusing on yet another non sequitur argument, Winehouse’s deep vocals transport me to a decadent lalaland of excesses, where I am gleefully signing on my Nth cheque.
For the MV,
and for the lyrics,
Serendipity’s gonna hit the papers. Pronto!