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Rock and Pop - Amy Winehouse - Our Camden treasure, says Roisin Gadelrab

Published: 28 July 2011
by ROISIN GADELRAB

AMY Winehouse, our treasured, tarnished chanteuse whose talent lay as much in the heart-shattering cracks in her vocals as her ability to bare her darkest moments in song, soul laid bare on the kitchen floor, has left us too soon. Camden without Amy is muted, the loss immense.

I saw her at her best, at the Dublin Castle, Camden Crawl 2008, entrancing as her aching vocals beguiled observers into feeling her pain. And at her worst: oblivious, lost, transformed into a museum piece during her Snakehips DJ night at the Monarch as, roped off like an exhibit, “Blake” brooch in her hair and blinded by a constellation of camera flashes, she hardly played a disc. Instead she painted her nails. I last saw her at the Dublin, Camden Crawl 2010. A combination of brassy barmaid and vulnerable child, she pulled pints, enjoying every second of her semblance of normality.

Some mourn Camden of old, before the market mushroomed into a mall of trinkets, when punks were more than just a curiosity carrying a sign to the ­nearest tattoo shop.

But Amy saw past this. She exposed the lure of Camden to a new crowd, each eagerly mimicking her style with back-combed punctuations on every ­corner.

While tabloids leapt in excitement every time she made a surprise ­appearance, Camden  ­barely raised an eyelid. She was a fixture, part of the ­furniture, and one that was expected to turn up at any moment. This knowledge was a comfort.

Amy showed her fierce loyalty to her beloved borough by not becoming precious, visiting her favoured kebab shops, newsagents and pubs, regardless of the 24/7 media glare.

When spotted in the street at night, it wasn’t the locals who followed Amy, but the paparazzi. Her attraction to the area could well be put down to the safe familiarity of the ­characters and venues that went out of their way to protect her.

Her troubles were widely known and, while the sorry end to this tiny girl with the exquisitely loaded voice was somewhat inevitable, there was the always hope that another surprise appearance was imminent and this time, those ­troubles would have melted away.

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