Some months ago Amy Winehouse caught my eye for sleazy emaciated beehive haired girls while zapping. Her voice seemed ok, and I liked the retro R&B. Then someone said something about a new pop star dragged into drugs and shit, how sad it was, whatever. Thing is the music and the persona are really quite fresh, even with all the retro aura—retro which has actually become so prevalent in good music as to make one wonder, isn’t this really the way music IS, and all those other non-retro forms nothing but deviations?

But then, why decadency has such power over us? First, success doesn´t help at all the basic sufferings we all have, sometimes it even intensifies it—we enjoy having this knowledge, being the losers we are. We like to devour the idea of such wasted life, exactly because it is mocking itself, specially when some new bravery comes with it—I don’t even know why I spend some time every day thinking of her, maybe its just that I got caught into some advertisement campain, but, alas, we all have to do something with what captures our minds… or maybe we don’t. Well, its better than thinking about totalitarianism or any castle-of-cards shit they give me at the philosophy class...

Who knows? I cheated myself as I knew I would. Maybe we are just enjoying her buzz through some twisted sense of empathy, having some of her drugged-delight through her voice, safe crumbs of a high we know from the womb. Forget: the open quality of some of the vintage reverbs they are using makes it all so much like a sunny happy day, and some honest slutty frailty will always give us mind boners.