Nine years have passed since our Amy died. A waste of an enormous talent. Another admission to the infamous 27 Club. But that is what happens when you abuse alcohol. My dad's use of alcohol taught me that. Too much of it just wrecks you, and I can't say I was not concerned about it when she was still alive. She was more or less on a path to self-destruction. Something that was not helped by that arse of a husband she chose. I know love is blind, but he was trouble from the word go. Still it was her choice to go with him.
Tonight the vinyl copy of Back To Black came out of its sleeve, and allowed us to swim in the musical chocolate that she and her comrades committed to tape. Her memory will never fade. Her music will live on and shine beautifully. God rest Amy.
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