Amy Winehouse

The British R&B singer Amy Winehouse may be a relative unknown in the United States, but she nevertheless arrives on these shores with a reputation as a surly troublemaker with a drinking problem. Though other artists may be wary about their public image, Winehouse has embraced this persona, and nearly every song on her new sophomore album plays it up.

Winehouse's breakout single "Rehab" taps into the current tabloid zeitgeist so effectively that there's already a popular YouTube clip featuring a digitally manipulated Britney Spears mouthing along to its words. But the music is a deliberate throwback to Motown-era girl group records, albeit with a few modern touches courtesy of producers Mark Ronson and Salaam Remi.

"Rehab" is immaculately constructed and difficult to resist, and its brisk tempo and subtle orchestration flatter Winehouse's smokey, subtle voice better than any other track on the album. The slinky "You Know I'm No Good" and the bold ballad "Me and Mr. Jones" come close in terms of quality—though the former is more compelling as a duet with Ghostface Killah on his album More Fish, and the latter suffers somewhat for its ostentatious excess of profanity.

Winehouse's coarse demeanor and nearly exhibitionistic frankness about substance abuse may alienate some timid listeners, but there is more than enough soul and charm in her songs to overcome their lyrical novelty. Though she's certainly self-aware, it is clear that she isn't simply using old-school R&B as a vehicle for cheap subversion.

Her songs display a clear reverence for vintage soul records, and her bold approach does not cut her off from those roots so much as bring her closer to the spirit of that music. One gets the impression that Winehouse is saying the sort of things that the Ronettes and the Supremes wish they could have expressed back in the '60s. Too many contemporary acts attempt to revive the classic R&B sound only to end up with something overly polite and restrained—Winehouse's best tunes tap directly into the sort of raw humanity that made those old songs so universal, compelling, and timeless.

- Matthew Perpetua
03.14.07

The story of Back to Black is one in which celebrity and the potential of commercial success threaten to ruin Amy Winehouse, since the same insouciance and playfulness that made her sound so special when she debuted could easily have been whitewashed right out of existence for this breakout record. (That fact may help to explain why fans were so scared by press allegations that Winehouse had deliberately lost weight in order to present a slimmer appearance.) Although Back to Black does see her deserting jazz and wholly embracing contemporary R&B, all the best parts of her musical character emerge intact, and actually, are all the better for the transformation from jazz vocalist to soul siren. With producer Salaam Remi returning from Frank, plus the welcome addition of Mark Ronson (fresh off successes producing for Christina Aguilera and Robbie Williams), Back to Black has a similar sound to Frank but much more flair and spark to it. Winehouse was inspired by girl group soul of the '60s, and fortunately Ronson and Remi are two of the most facile and organic R&B producers active. (They certainly know how to evoke the era too; Remi's "Tears Dry on Their Own" is a sparkling homage to the Motown chestnut "Ain't No Mountain High Enough," and Ronson summons a host of Brill Building touchstones on his tracks.) As before, Winehouse writes all of the songs from her experiences, most of which involve the occasionally riotous and often bittersweet vagaries of love. Also in similar fashion to Frank, her eye for details and her way of relating them are delightful. She states her case against "Rehab" on the knockout first single with some great lines: "They tried to make me go to rehab I won't go go go, I'd rather be at home with Ray" (Charles, that is). As often as not, though, the songs on Back to Black are universal, songs that anyone, even Joss Stone, could take to the top of the charts, such as "Love Is a Losing Game" or the title song ("We only said good bye with words, I died a hundred times/You go back to her, and I go back to black"). ~ John Bush, All Music Guide