Amy Winehouse

by Chas Newkey-Burden

  And so the album concludes with ‘Amy, Amy, Amy’, thirteen minutes and fourteen seconds of Cuban-flavoured, swinging ode to the joys of her man and the frustrations of how his sex appeal distracts her from her songwriting craft. An announcer thanks everyone for coming and says he hopes we enjoyed it. We did.

  Clocking in at just twelve seconds short of an hour’s listening, Frank certainly lived up to its title. From her asking her lover if he’s gay in the opening track to her open admissions of sexual urging in the final track, it is sharp and to the point. It is also, as Amy revealed while promoting the album, largely based on the experiences she had with one lover. ‘He’s a very proud man and I know he won’t go and buy the album,’ she said. ‘We were together when I’d written some stuff, but I don’t think he’s listened to some of the less flattering songs I wrote later on. He did say to me, “How would you feel if I did this to you?” But I was, like, “What? Someone you once loved has written a really nice album about you.” Then he said, “Amy, you called me gay!” So I told him, “I didn’t say you were gay, I just put the question out there. Are you?” He’s just being a baby because someone wrote an album about him. His mates are all probably really jealous.’

  Already, therefore, Amy was setting out her stall as an artist who was willing to be open and honest in both her lyrics and in interviews. In an age when pop acts are often trained in how to be evasive and squeaky clean in their image, Amy’s frankness was a breath of fresh air.

  However, some wondered, would potential lovers feel quite so enamoured by her openness? ‘Yeah, I’m an open book,’ she agreed. ‘Some men do think I’m a psycho bunny-boiler. But I think that’s funny. If you’re nice to me I’ll never write anything bad about you. There’s no point in saying anything but the truth. Because, at the end of the day, I don’t have to answer to you, or my ex, or… I shouldn’t say God… or a man in a suit from the record company. I have to answer to myself.’

  So we return to the contradictions that dominate the album. At one point she castigates a lover for being unfaithful but elsewhere she also criticises him for being too faithful. She complains about finding it hard to find a man but then also mourns that she so often picks the wrong man. Nor is it just the words that are at odds with each other. The music is wonderfully old-fashioned and yet the cultural references – text messages, Beastie Boys T-shirts – are firmly rooted in the twenty-first century. ‘It’s different. A break from the same old shit,’ she says of her own music. ‘It’s important to be a great singer. [But] it’s important for me to stand out and be different and do something different and say something different.’

  Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of Frank is the fact that Amy has as good as disowned it. Her official website had the following to say about the album: ‘Frank was her grand and suitably blunt-speaking break-up record, and it won her a battalion of fans around the world, marking her out as one of the most distinct new voices in pop; confessional, elemental and with that rarest of combinations: humour and soul.’

  So far, so complimentary. However, as soon as she was unleashed in front of journalists, Amy said she was ‘only 80 per cent’ behind the album. ‘I can’t even listen to Frank any more – in fact, I’ve never been able to,’ she confessed to a shocked interviewer. ‘I like playing the tracks live because that’s different, but listening to them is another story.

  ‘Some things on this album make me go to a little place that’s fucking bitter. I’ve not seen anyone from the record company since the album came out. And I know why. They’re scared of me and they know I have no respect for them whatsoever.’

  It was the way that the album positioned her in a place she didn’t want to be that helped inform her distaste of it. For a start, it saw her bracketed by Katie Melua and Jamie Cullum. ‘People put us together because we have come out at the same time, but we’re nothing alike,’ she says. ‘I feel bad for Jamie, being lumped in with me and her. I’m a songwriter and she has her songs written for her. He must feel frustrated. She must think it’s her fucking lucky day. If anyone stands out straight from us, it would be her,’ she continues of Katie Melua, because she doesn’t write her own songs. ‘It’s not like she’s singing old songs like Jamie, she’s singing shit new songs that her manager writes for her.’

  Amazingly, she claims that not only does she not listen to Frank, but, ‘I’ve never heard the album from start to finish. I don’t have it in my house. The marketing was fucked, the promotion was terrible. Everything was a shambles. It’s frustrating, because you work with so many idiots – but they’re nice idiots. So you can’t be, like, “You’re an idiot.” They know that they’re idiots.’ So disillusioned was she that she wasn’t to write another song for eighteen months.

  So, not the most enthusiastic words about the album from Amy herself. However, the response from the critics was far, far more complimentary. The BBC website said that the album was ‘Lyrically fresh and uncompromising’. It added, ‘This is Amy’s first release and augurs well for her future. If this is what the young lady is capable of at such an early stage it must be pretty certain that this will be the first in a long line of well crafted, funky & feisty releases.’ In the Guardian, Beccy Lindon wrote, ‘Sitting somewhere between Nina Simone and Erykah Badu, Winehouse’s sound is at once innocent and sleazy… It’s hard not to hear the honesty and soul that resonates throughout this album.’

  In The Times, Paul Connolly concluded that,

  Her Frank could not be more aptly titled, with its dissection of romantic farragos, sexual betrayal and jealousy, peppered with caustic put-downs and killer one-liners. ‘F*** Me Pumps’, a withering attack on women of a certain age who hit the town in search of a rich husband but end up with a string of one-night stands, is beyond acerbic. Its cutting lyrics – ‘Like the news, every day you get pressed’ – are only marginally softened by a skinny tune that vaguely resembles ‘Winter Wonderland’.

  The Evening Standard profiled Amy to tie in with the release and said,

  That debut album, Frank (as in both her hero, Sinatra, and her disarming manner), is a remarkably assured cornucopia – part jazz, part hip-hop, but reminiscent of Norah Jones, Dinah Washington and, mostly, American soul diva Erykah Badu. It’s accessible enough for Radio 2 to feature heavily; commercial enough for her to be signed by an offshoot of super-manager Simon Fuller’s operation and sufficiently cutting-edge to have been granted nods of approval from magazines such as Straight No Chaser and Blues Soul.

  The hip magazine Dazed And Confused said it was one of ‘the most impressive British debuts in years’; MOJO gave it four out of five and described it as a ‘stunning debut’. Elsewhere it was described as Nelly Furtardo meeting Billie Holiday.

  The feminist writer Holly Combe says of the album’s artwork,

  The image is of someone who likes all the apparent fripperies of Being-a-Girl but who knows how to keep up with The Lads too. In other words, we’re talking about the perfectly balanced image. Just like the much sought after ‘mostly B’s’ archetype in those quizzes in Cosmo and Just Seventeen. Nice one Amy!

  The Leicester Mercury was less approving, saying, ‘In fact it’s intense, maybe a little too much so. Although this is the album that may make her name, it’s not the one to carve it into the Hall of Fame. But time and a blossoming vocal talent are on her side.’ It seems that other local press in the Midlands was not enthusiastic, either. The Birmingham Evening Mail said, ‘Her Macy Gray-style voice is an acquired taste, however.’ The Metacritic website – which collates all reviews of albums and gives them an ‘overall rating’ – gave Frank 84/100.

  The album entered the UK charts at Number 60 but had climbed to its peak position of Number 13 by January 2004. It was to re-enter the charts when Amy’s profile was raised by the release of her following album, Back to Black. It made Number 28 in the Irish charts. As good as disowned by Amy and a slow-burner initially in the charts due to a lack of radio play, Frank nonetheless remains a classic album and
one that swept Amy to the attention of the music industry.

  It also earned Amy her first serious nomination for an award. The Mercury Prize is an annual music prize awarded for the best album from the United Kingdom or Republic of Ireland, established as an alternative to the industry-dominated BRIT Awards. The nominees are chosen by a selected panel of executives in the music industry in the UK and the Republic of Ireland. The Mercury Prize also has a reputation for being awarded to outside chances rather than the favourites. ‘The point of the Mercury is not simply to elect a winner: the point of the Mercury is to give publicity to and celebrate all sorts of music,’ says Simon Frith, chairman of the judging panel. Previous winners included Ms Dynamite, M People and Talvin Singh. Frith added that the panel have never got the choice wrong.

  The other nominees for the 2004 prize were Basement Jaxx (Kish Kash), Belle & Sebastian (Dear Catastrophe Waitress), Franz Ferdinand (Franz Ferdinand), Jamelia (Thank You), Keane (Hopes and Fears), Snow Patrol (Final Straw), Joss Stone (The Soul Sessions), the Streets (A Grand Don’t Come for Free), Ty (Upwards), Robert Wyatt (Cuckooland), and the Zutons (Who Killed… The Zutons?).

  At the ceremony on 8 September 2004, the award went to Scottish indie rockers Franz Ferdinand. ‘This is coming in a year when we’re surrounded by such fantastic bands,’ said the band’s charming lead singer Alex Kapranos. ‘Everyone else deserves it more than we do. They reflect a trend in the UK at the moment for fantastic music so we’re living in pretty good times at the moment.’ Bless him! Amy may not have won but she did perform at the ceremony and she’d be back before long. Indeed, little could she have known then quite how many awards she would go on to be nominated for, or how many of them she would win.

  Also in 2004, Amy was nominated for two BRIT awards. The categories she was shortlisted in were British Female Solo Artist and British Urban Act. The ceremony was at Earls Court and hosted by Cat Deeley, who appeared wearing a top hat and straddling a huge champagne bottle, declaring, ‘Booze is back! Rock and roll is back!’ Amy would have approved. The evening was dominated by the glam rockers the Darkness, who won three awards. Busted and Justin Timberlake were double winners, and Beyoncé Knowles took the award for Best International Female. Laughter erupted across the arena when DJ Chris Moyles said, ‘I’m sitting backstage – it’s rubbish. I’ve got to look at Dr Fox’s fat face all night. No food, no booze, no birds – it’s rubbish.’

  On the night Amy won neither award with the British Female Solo Artist gong going to Dido. Accepting her award via a video message, she said she was ‘pretty surprised’ to have won. ‘I know it’s voted for by the public, I’m so grateful.’ Meanwhile the British Urban act award was handed to Lemar, who had come to prominence from the BBC’s Fame Academy programme.

  By this time, Amy had performed her first major headline show in London. Billed as ‘an attractive oasis on Shepherd’s Bush’s busy Uxbridge Road’, Bush Hall is one of the capital’s most charismatic venues. At the start of the twentieth century, it hosted ballroom dancing, swing orchestras and Irish music jigs. Then, during World War Two, it became a soup kitchen for hungry locals, before becoming a bingo hall and then an amusement arcade in the postwar years. During the 1990s it became a snooker hall, which was visited by famous people, including Hugh Grant and Stephen Fry. At the start of the twenty-first century it was renovated and has since hosted concerts for a host of acts, including REM, Boy George – his first concert for over a decade – Scissor Sisters, Lily Allen and Sugababes.

  The venue has a capacity of 350 and much of that was, on the evening, made up of curious music industry folk and friends of Amy. With space at such a premium on and off the stage, Amy had to fight for performing room with her band, particularly the brass section. She opened with ‘Best Friends’ and soon had the audience enchanted as she proceeded to ‘You Sent Me Flying’ and ‘Know You Now’. ‘I’m really snotty tonight,’ said Amy at one point, wearing a black strapped top and leopard-print leggings.

  Caroline Sullivan wrote in her review for the Guardian: ‘Most impressive when it was just her and a guitarist, as on “(There is) No Greater Love”, Winehouse is the very definition of “potential”… long may her angst unfurl.’

  Writing in The Times, Lisa Verrico agreed with Sullivan that Amy was at her best without the brass section, saying she was ‘simply compelling’ when accompanied by just her guitarist. She also echoed Sullivan’s praise of her performance of ‘There Is…’, writing of ‘gasps from the audience’ during the song. As Amy turned to ‘Stronger Than Me’, the audience was full of moving hips and wide smiles. It had been a successful night, with even Amy’s between-song chatter raising some chuckles in the assembled throng. A successful evening, then: Amy impressed reviewers, music industry figures and her fans. Not bad for a night’s work.

  A concert at Northumbria University followed. Newcastle Evening Chronicle reviewer Claire Dupree wrote,

  The first thing that strikes you about Amy is how can such a powerful voice come from someone so tiny? Her voice belies her age and her husky North London accent is transformed into a sultry jazzy drawl. The music has an almost big band feel at times and encompasses an excellent brass section. A particular favourite, ‘You Sent Me Flying’, reduced a previously noisy crowd to silence with emotive lyrics about unrequited love. [The lyrics,] which sent shivers down my spine, gave me goosebumps and sent the crowd into frenzied applause.

  Not that all reviews were favourable at this point. For instance, Fiona Shepherd, writing in the Scotsman about Amy’s performance at the Cottier Theatre in Glasgow, tore strips off her performance in general and vocal accomplishments in particular. She said Amy’s style,

  was tedious after five minutes, let alone an hour and five minutes, and her rich, mature tone was poorly served by her favoured vocal style. Winehouse oversang mercilessly like just another competent Pop Idol wannabe, mistaking vocal acrobatics for sophisticated soulful interpretation. By the time she had finished mangling each track, any melody which might have asserted itself was totally exterminated.

  She soon was to perform in Dublin, where the Irish Times reviewer wrote,

  There is still less doe-eyed sentimentality, or disingenuous coyness, in Winehouse’s music, a sassy mix of purring jazz and growling hip-hop to match her earthy, booty-shaking sexuality. We are a little taken aback, nonetheless, to find the recent Ivor Novello Award winner on stage this muggy evening, tugging at her neckline and blowing down her dress. Picking up where the venue’s air-conditioning falls short, it’s typical Winehouse: balancing moments of cool relief with music that’s resolutely hot’n’ bothered.

  A more eccentric write-up surfaced in Newsquest, following her show at the Liverpool Academy. Ian Kelly wrote,

  She is an amazingly charismatic live performer and, despite looking like the lovechild of Penelope Cruz and Ruud van Nistelrooy, she is also very sexy. And this girl really knows how to carry a tune. This was a note-perfect display of her unquestionable vocal talents which was absolutely stunning.

  Amy’s performance at the 2004 T in the Park festival was not quite so well written up. The Daily Star’s Joe Mott wrote, ‘Her mesmerising vocals are spoiled by a crowd that thinks it’s in the theatre and chats throughout.’

  She also turned out at Warwick University, University of Northumbria, the Brecon Annual Jazz Festival, the Harrogate International Jazz Festival, Ross-on-Wye International Festival and the Montreal International Jazz Festival. Jordan Zivitz wrote in the Montreal Gazette, ‘Winehouse left her hip-hop beats at home, singing with a trio that left her barbed lyrics and modern-day Billie Holiday vocals plenty of room to move.’

  After watching her a second time, Zivitz added,

  We did, however, get a powerhouse voice that more than lived up to Winehouse’s promise on the album, and a coolly measured stage presence that made her spiky lyrics seem all the more dangerous. The revised instrumentation gave the material a more traditionally jazzy feel than on the hip-hop-inflected Frank CD
– more deep indigo than flaming red. Whatever the colour, Winehouse is going places. Among those places, no doubt, is a larger venue than Club Soda next time.

  Within days of performing at Montreal, Amy turned out at Cannizaro Park at Merton and in London’s Old Street, where she had trouble remembering the lyrics. ‘She actually said, “I have to try and remember this shit now,”’ says one audience member. ‘That’s not exactly a very good plug for her new material.’ She also put in an appearance at Pizza Express Jazz Club in 2004. The Guardian review gave a drenchingly positive write-up:

  Amy Winehouse joined for the second half, mixing singles from her album Frank with jazz standards including ‘Caravan’ and ‘What a Difference a Day Makes’. Her timing and inflection come from hip-hop, contemporary soul and R&B rather than jazz – but an improviser’s instincts often made her swim spectacularly upstream against the undercurrents.

  However, it was the Daily Telegraph’s report that best captured the drama of the evening. Neil McCormick wrote,

  Freed from having to concentrate on her own guitar-playing, she really shone as a vocalist, while the trio jazzed up her songs (and a sprinkling of classic covers) with genuine brio. Highlight of the evening, however, was when Winehouse’s oft-mentioned dad, singing taxi-driver Mitchell Winehouse, took over for a smooth rendition of a Frank Sinatra song. Confidently demonstrating the genetic root of Amy’s talent, Mitch seemed unimpressed by some of the trio’s experimental trimmings. With all the casual menace of an EastEnders villain, he paused his performance to inquire of the fresh faced piano player: ‘Was that the bridge, or are you just doodling about as usual?’