July 23, 2011 at 3:25pm
I once met Amy Jade Winehouse. It was in the Green Room of the Jonathan Ross show back in 2004. Ian Cunningham and I had been invited onto the show, because they had requested the short movie we’d shot starring Shane Richie and Andrew Sachs called ‘Dead Clean’.
They wanted to show Shane in an acting role which preceded and instigated his career shift from Television game-show host to charismatic movie/TV player. Shane had just found new worth and very welcomed fame as Alfie Moon in the BBC’s flagship drama series (though horrid like ghastly Marmite to me) East Enders… and so, Ian and I accepted their hospitality.
Back then, Amy wasn’t widely known, but for those that did know of her, it was for her music, not the awful destructive sleazy drug induced daze that we all came to know. She was clean of all that, she was a fresh, chubby, cheeky/bubbly yet slightly nervous and very polite little Jewish girl from North London. I liked her. We shook hands, I coiffed upon champagne while she sipped on bottled water. A stark contrast to what she later became. We were all witness to the very public humiliation and gradual demise of this young lady, we watched as her innocence was stripped away until all that remained was the grime and the sublime.
People blame the dealers, because it’s easier to handle, than the truth… Do you remember that first cigarette, the peer pressure? My first cigarette came from my best friend at the time… just think about it, dealers represent supply and demand, who gave you your first smoke, your first snort, your first needle?
Bye Amy, I’ll just think about you, the way you were.
Way back when…
Note: Amy wasn’t a friend, but she represents that pain… to a wider, slightly wiser audience.