Famous Singers Addresses

Critics Assess Amy Winehouse's Legacy

In the days since Amy Winehouse's death, some of the world's best critics have penned tributes to the singer and her small but incredibly memorable body of work. Here's a collection of some of the best essays out there, in which sharp writers offer critical insight into her distinct persona, tabloid notoriety and intriguing take on soul, jazz and hip-hop.

Ben Sisario, New York Times , her devastating second, and final, album. After all, the lurid, sad craziness of her addiction, to which she apparently succumbed over the weekend at her home in London, was her story line — as was failure — and her honesty and openness in tackling the subjects, coupled with her charisma and vocal swagger, was her allure. Had she sung about her family trying to make her go to a barbecue instead of rehab or had she titled her breakout album Back to Pink : "The work was beautiful, I think, because Winehouse was extremely smart about how risk works when you’re making art. She understood that the steely, arm’s-length confidence of modern pop singers — the ones who command, demand, and let you know how little shit they take — can only get you so far. You can’t really exhibit grace or toughness without having something hanging over you; it’s like weightlifting without the weights. So the most “retro” thing about Back to Black : "A gift to gossip writers, Winehouse was nonetheless famous for actually being good at something. She was retro even in her celebrity; one of the most exposed in a culture of unprecedented over-exposure, she still appeared mysterious, as if she was disguised as herself. ‘I heard that she wakes up every day four hours before her husband to put on her face,’ she once said of Dolly Parton. ‘Four hours! I think that’s cool.’ The look that spawned a hundred Halloween costumes was an oddly flexible one, which seemed to compress Winehouse’s whole story, just as her lyrics often did: the witty, cartoonish glamour was there, but also the cracks, the ruin. She looked as if everything had already happened to her." : "Pop music had often cast women as sweet, bright creatures, but Winehouse's lyrics revealed something mulchier, messier. Here was a woman who refused to conform – not in the eccentric mad woman in the attic mould of Kate Bush or Björk, but a woman who chose to live a little wild, follow her heart and sing of the simple stew of being female. Her songs were filled with broad talk, cussing, drink and drugs and dicks, songs that could hinge on one magnificent, unladylike question: "What kind of fuckery is this?"" was backward-looking, but smartly so. Winehouse’s voice was an alto croak that suggested damage she hadn’t yet done to it. Her allegiances to ’60s soul and ’40s jazz were deep but conditional. From the girl groups she so lovingly referenced, Winehouse cherry-picked the most modern ideas: the tragic and tactile storytelling of songs like “Leader of the Pack,” say, rather than the unquestioning euphoria of “Give Him a Great Big Kiss.