Maybe you noticed I didn't blog last week. Or maybe you didn't. OK, you probably didn't. Anyway, I hit the road and spent the week in Portland, Ore., a city I hope to call home one day.
The trip was amazing -- tons of killer vegan food, the weather was nice and the beer flowed all day and all night. But perhaps the coolest part of the vacation was the fact that I "discovered" Amy Winehouse.
Yes folks, three years after she became a household name, I finally heard Back to Black and guess what? It's pretty effing good.
In all fairness, my girlfriend has been into the record since it came out, but I've heard only bits and pieces of it through my bathroom door (she listens to it in the shower, like, all the time).
At some point on the 15-hour drive north, we heard every Howard Stern Show that was playing that day and still had nine hours to go, so my better half busted out her iPod and asked if we could listen to Winehouse. "Sure, why not?" I asked. The tunes would make her happy, and when you're driving that distance, when your girlfriend is happy, you're happy.
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By the end of the disc, I was really diggin' it and wondered why it took me so damn long to come around to the fact that Winehouse has actual talent. Then I remembered the media circus that surrounds her and that old rule of mine: if that many people are into it, it's gotta suck. But l admit, on this one, I was wrong.
So for the remaining two of you in the modern world who hasn't hopped on board the Amy Winehouse Express, I'm telling you: Do it. Crackhead/junkie/wino/trainwreck/whatever...the girl can sing.
Here's a clip of better days to prove my point. And Amy, if you read this: Girl, get your shit together.