Can I Be Frank With You?
The answer to the above question on this occasion is not "okay if I can still be Garth", but rather the suggested new style of parental advisory note that might best be stamped on the recorded output of London's own Amy Winehouse. Calling her 2003 debut Frank was a strong hint at the likely confessional subject matter for this ballsy singer and songwriter, but still the tale of broken heart dismay and soul-searching proved remarkably raw and punchy, albeit with an eye for the quick wit that often marks these shore's true greats out from their transatlantic cousins.
The debut is loved by many, but was partially lost also in Winehouse's search for her true voice and style, as well as release in the middle of the road jazz glut that gave us Katie Melua, Norah Jones and Jamie Cullum amongst others. Not great company you'll agree. But Winehouse surely is now emerging as one of our greatest musical treasures, testified by her late 2006 offering Back to Black, as pure a slice of soulful pop as you will hear in this or any year.
Ignore firstly the superstar production of beat man du jour Mark Ronson and Salaam Remi, although this truly is worthy of attention also with not one wasted note of retro fur-lined harmony throughout. Forget even the plush 60s soul styling and the wonder of the voice of a UK-born twenty-something coming out like the bastard love child of Martha Reeves and Motown-era Marvin, with the conception arranged by Phil Spector, remarkable as it is. No, what makes this offering worthy of celebration is the fact that it proves there is a place in popular music for British soul music of real class. Rightly heralded as an instant classic in the British soul canon, to me this album deserves all the praise it garners and more. It is not easy to make a retrostyled album that still sounds fresh and innovative and relevant to the hip-hop age, timeless yet of it's moment in time. It is not easy to have a massive selling crossover hit record that still deserves real critical acclaim. It is not easy to sing like you are in Muscle Shoals in 1967, when you are in fact in Camden Town, and pull it off so naturally. So stand up UK and celebrate a true talent. Like the lady herself I prefer a smoke of my homegrown.
The debut is loved by many, but was partially lost also in Winehouse's search for her true voice and style, as well as release in the middle of the road jazz glut that gave us Katie Melua, Norah Jones and Jamie Cullum amongst others. Not great company you'll agree. But Winehouse surely is now emerging as one of our greatest musical treasures, testified by her late 2006 offering Back to Black, as pure a slice of soulful pop as you will hear in this or any year.
Ignore firstly the superstar production of beat man du jour Mark Ronson and Salaam Remi, although this truly is worthy of attention also with not one wasted note of retro fur-lined harmony throughout. Forget even the plush 60s soul styling and the wonder of the voice of a UK-born twenty-something coming out like the bastard love child of Martha Reeves and Motown-era Marvin, with the conception arranged by Phil Spector, remarkable as it is. No, what makes this offering worthy of celebration is the fact that it proves there is a place in popular music for British soul music of real class. Rightly heralded as an instant classic in the British soul canon, to me this album deserves all the praise it garners and more. It is not easy to make a retrostyled album that still sounds fresh and innovative and relevant to the hip-hop age, timeless yet of it's moment in time. It is not easy to have a massive selling crossover hit record that still deserves real critical acclaim. It is not easy to sing like you are in Muscle Shoals in 1967, when you are in fact in Camden Town, and pull it off so naturally. So stand up UK and celebrate a true talent. Like the lady herself I prefer a smoke of my homegrown.
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