Alright, so Amy Winehouse cleaned up at the Grammys last night (she won 5 - including record and song of the year). Thankfully, her winning power relented in the Album of the Year category. That one went to a deserving Herbie Hancock.
I watch the Grammys every year - I am a music nut, what can I say? - but last night I switched it off after Wine-hound won the record of the year award. I just figured she was on one of those rolls and would end up with the night's top prize, and I didn't want to stay up to watch that, you know? But why am I upset at this, anyway? She's a talented singer. She's a better than average performer. She sold lots of records. Why?
I don't know. All in all, I think if I am really honest, I didn't want her to win because she's so screwed up "in real life." After all, her hit song is all about refusing to enter rehab for drugs and alcohol, which she clearly needs to do. Seriously, she's already shown how suicidal and self destructive she can be - just google her a little bit if you don't take my word for it. She's heading the way of Janis Joplin. She won't be a problem for long if she doesn't clean up. But, I gotta put the microscope on me here. I think I am being self-righteous in thinking that she doesn't deserve these artistic awards because of her private demons.
Enough confessions, here's what I really want to say to the people jumping and screaming around Amy last night in London. MAKE HER GET HELP, or you're all gravy-training on her inevitable self-destruction. Her blood will be on your hands. The "Rehab" run was cute and funny for a while, but now it's just getting sick and sad. How would we feel now listening to Karen Carpenter singing,
"They tried to make me eat a sandwich, I said 'No, No, No!'"