Amy Winehouse, sultry and troubled singer of the song “Rehab” (note: a place she promised never to “go, go, go”), swept the 2008 Grammys last night, winning five of the six nominations for her album Back to Black.
Performing via satellite (her US work visa being initally denied, then later accepted with not enough time for the trek from England to California), Winehouse not only sang her hit but also accepted her awards. I must say, I’m not sure where her voice comes from: she has the heart and soul of Aretha Franklin coming out of a woman the size and age of, well, me. That said, her performance was, for lack of a better word, weird. She looked very uncomfortable, and when her receipt of the Best Album of the Year award was announced, she rushed back to hug family and friends, then stood at the microphone saying nothing until chants of “Amy, Amy, Amy” coaxed a few jumbled and mumbled words out of her.
Granted, she was performing at 4 am London time, but I’m going to chalk up the odd behaviors to her newfound sobriety, something she’s very clearly not comfortable with.
I like Amy Winehouse, and a great deal at that. But I must say: what great talent. What amazing voice. What an odd little bird.
