Angst About Amy

So I couldn't escape it. I really tried but facing Amy Winehouse up close was too much. I got sucked into all the speculations, media hype and general preoccupation with her state of mind. It is not good. I'm a fan of Amy's soulful, jazz-inflected vocals. I had hope that her 5 months on St. Lucia had helped heal her demons. If any place could accomplish the task, it's the dreamy beauty and gentle-spirited people of St. Lucia. But it doesn't seem to be working. One glance at her unfocused eyes told me all I needed to know. I was only a few feet away from the stage so I saw everything and it was painful to watch.

She ambled out in an aqua-colored mini and the requisite pile of hair. She grinded provocatively in her 5-inch, white Louboutin's. After 2 off key songs, she bends down to take off her stilettos. Her back is to the crowd and she flashes her white panties. Amy starts singing and then stops midway, announcing that she's bored. In the meantime, a monsoon is starting on St. Lucia. Buckets of rain pound the stage. Mounds of volcanic mud cling to everything. The stage lights shut off and Amy walks off to loud boos. She turns around and performs a ska version of Sam Cooke's "Cupid." She swigs what looks like rum from a plastic cup and starts flailing her twiggy arms off beat. Amy hangs on to a back-up singer for support. She gazes off with a sad, lost look. "Get a cup of tea!" yells a crowd of rowdy Brits. She needs a lot more than tea. She squats to put on her shoes and then takes them off again. She manages to get through "You Know I'm No Good", stares out at the crowd and then walks off the stage. The audience rewards her with thundering boos.

During the entire spectacle, I was standing next to her bodyguard. I watched for signs of concern on his face and detected none. There were whispers of getting the paramedics floating through the crowd as he bounded backstage. Of course, no interviews were allowed and Amy later released a statement saying the storm forced her to abandon her performance. I felt tainted after watching Amy struggle through her show. It was like quietly watching someone commit suicide. I stayed in the same villa community with Amy and other journalists. She acts like a rambunctious toddler, skipping and jumping around barefoot and sucking her thumb. I asked her where her lovely shoes were and she replied, "never you mind." I don't think it was a coincidence that she never got to sing her signature "Rehab." She's clearly not going and there's nobody around her to care that she doesn't.