As I watched Amy Winehouse's performance at the Grammy's last night, I was deeply deeply saddened. I felt as if I were watching a movie about some tragic starlet who we all knew at the beginning of the movie was going to die, only the movie isn't finished yet. It's like she's living her own rock-martyrdom tragicomedy and we're all spectators.
The media machine thrills in reporting her missteps and addictions. Today is the first day in a long while where the headlines about Mrs. Winehouse actually involve her music. But again, sadly, watching her last night has convinced me that without some entity taking away her freedom and getting her detoxed and truly rehabilitated, like Scott Weiland rehabilitated, she will die within the year.
Last night she looked emaciated and disheveled as she half-heartedly danced and sang. Her glassy-eyed stare when she won for Record of the Year looked more like someone high on Vicodin's reaction than the joy of a sober person. That little catty sneer in the corner of her mouth as she sang "I won't go go go" to rehab in the second half of her act speaks volumes about her current state of mind. She appears incapable of making correct decisions in her drug and alcohol addled state. Without intervention, Amy Winehouse will soon be dead.
I truly hope I am wrong.