Amy Winehouse live!
Amy Winehouse
Vic Theatre, Chicago
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Click here for more pics from the show
To hear her voice is to assume Amy Winehouse is an Amazonian reincarnation of Ronnie Spector or Dinah Washington. But there she was, onstage at a sold-out Vic Theatre, a five-foot-nothing frame struggling to support her barely there hip huggers with a silver, sequined belt and an equally absent black tank top. Tattoos up and down each arm accented her Cleopatra eye liner and Daddy Longleg lashes would place her more comfortably at some basement punk rock show.
But her excellent, R&B-dominated sophomore effort, Back To Black, quickly betrays any and all preconceived notions. Already a tabloid sensation overseas for her boozing and messy man-trolling, Winehouse has caught enough buzz Stateside to propel her into the Top 20. (This show was originally scheduled as two performances at the considerably smaller Shubas.) So the whole situation begs the question, “Could this hellion transcend her own press clippings and deliver a different breed of public performance?” The succinct answer would prove to be a resounding “Occasionally.”
Standing front and center before The Dap-Kings, her cracking nine-piece backing band, Winehouse appeared tentative, as if the immediate adulation hoisted upon her was something to sabotage instead of embracing. Her vocals on “Addicted” and “Cherry” were delivered with a phoned-in acumen, an act of treason considering the husky prowess of her pipes is — rag-mag coverage notwithstanding — what got her this far.
At 23, Winehouse’s age should certainly allow for, at the least, a modicum of concession in her stage presence. When she did venture away from her mic stand, she did so using a slinky, sexy marriage of side step and choreographed Motown moves hinting that greatness as a performer may still be hers for the taking.
Glimpses of such a future did eventually appear. During “Rehab,” her breakthrough single here in the States, Winehouse stopped playing with her haystacked tangle of onyx hair long enough to deliver her aural goods. Her voice rose up to meet the Apollo-esque boogie her band had doled out all evening. Equally impressive readings of “You Know I’m No Good” and “He Can Only Hold Her” rightly justified the ubiquitous attention she has garnered.
What the back of the room probably never noticed was what certainly resembled an engagement ring on the singer’s left hand. With hard drinking and man troubles making up the bulk of her material, will impending happiness be grist enough to lift the dour mood that envelopes Back To Black? Using her past as prelude, Winehouse’s love affair with her sadness seems to be her favorite paramour.
— Curt Baran
Category: Live Reviews, Weekly
