Back to Black
Talk about fast introductions! The first line, first breath is “They tried to make me go to rehab, I said no no no.” Ten seconds in, you know more about this tattooed Brit siren than most of your acquaintances. Further in, on “Me & Mr. Jones,” she demands “What kind of fuckery is this?” coining a word that combines “relationship” and “betrayal.” There is beauty in such bluntness. Every echo, every note on the title cut is a sublime re-engagement with a type of ’60s pop neglected save for the odd James Bond theme. Winehouse has retooled her act from seductive warbler to someone you might meet in jail. Unexpectedly entrancing.