I've written about her before. I think she's the definitive voice of this epoch. An amazing blend of coquette and serial killer, she's Ronnie Spector with a switchblade.
Far too much publicity lately for her personal demons, perhaps proving once again the link between art and personal suffering. Problems with the tight assed State Department delayed her visa until it was too late to travel- so she stepped out of rehab, and at 4 AM London time, belted out "You Know I'm No Good" and "Rehab" in the best tradition of "The Show Must Go On".
Five Grammys out of six nominations- New Artist, Song of the Year, Record of the Year, Female Pop Vocal, and Best Pop Album. The only award she did not receive was the one she most deserved. Sorry, Herbie Hancock, but Back to Black IS the Album of the Year. It might be the album of the decade.
Here's a repost of Back To Black, from the album of the same name. Listen for the Ronettes drum beat at 2:42. It's amazing.
Congratulations and continue to get well, tattooed nightingale. You rock.