All I can ever be to you

Is the darkness that we knew,
And this regret I’ve got accustomed to.
Once it was so right,
When we were at our high,
Waiting for you in the hotel at night.

I knew I hadn’t met my match,
But every moment we could snatch,
I don’t know why I got so attached.
It’s my responsibility,
And you don’t owe nothing to me,
But to walk away I have no capacity.

[Chorus:]
He walks away,
The sun goes down,
He takes the day
But I’m grown,
And in your way,
In this blue shade
My tears dry on their own.

I don’t understand
Why do I stress a man
When there’s so many bigger things at hand.
We coulda never had it all,
We had to hit a wall,
So this is inevitable withdrawal.
Even if I stop wanting you,
A perspective pushes through,
I’ll be some next man’s other woman soon.

I shouldn’t play myself again,
I should just be my own best friend,
Not fuck myself in the head with stupid men.

[Chorus]

So we are history,
Your shadow covers me
The sky above,
A blaze,

[Chorus]

I wish I could say no regrets,
And no emotional debts,
‘Cause as we kiss goodbye the sun sets

So we are history,
The shadow covers me,
The sky above,
A blaze that only lovers see,

He walks away,
The sun goes down,
He takes the day
But I’m grown,
And in your way,
My blue shade
My tears dry on their own.

He walks away,
The sun goes down,
He takes the day
But I’m grown,
And in your way,
My deep shade
My tears dry on their own.

He walks away,
The sun goes down,
He takes the day
But I’m grown,
And in your way,
My deep shade
My tears dry

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojdbDYahiCQ&feature=share

Amy

I always love a story that makes me feel, a story in which the protagonist burns so fiercely that you cannot ignore them. As a child I could not get the Karen Carpenter story from my head. Then as a teen it was the 27 club. Later Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf and Sarah Kane would haunt me. So naturally I was drawn towards Amy’s story.

Amy first appeared on my radar the same time as most other people were aware of her (maybe rehab?) I don’t really remember. I do remember making a beeline to see her at Glastonbury though. She was playing the Pyramid Stage and we went to see the inevitable car crash. I didn’t really know much about her other than she was bound to play up. And she did, too trollied to perform and picking fights with the crowd. It wasn’t the experience I expected; I felt like a sick voyeur watching somebody self destruct in the public eye. The spectacle felt wrong and the audience were baiting her for a response. She gave it and we left feeling dirty from the cheap thrills of watching someone fuck up.

Only later did I hear her music properly and appreciate what a unique mesmerising soul she was. She sang from the heart and with such raw emotion, she was clearly one in a million. I fell in love with the story that she was singing. But yet again she was too fierce and burnt too bright. Then the news came that she was dead.

Once again the scrum for her story began and missed the point entirely. It seemed like the world was saying ‘I told you so’. But this was the world who had hunted her down and foreseen the demise and did nothing. In fact the world was egging her on, and I had been part of this.

Then came Amy the film, a well told story using original footage by the director Asif Kapadia. I was glued to every second, Amy is mesmerising in her every moment. Moments captured that are ugly and beautiful. Completely vulnerable yet she commands everyone she meets. A true old soul in a youthful media world. So yes it’s a story, a film constructed to portray a one sided tale (one that has been challenged by others). But when we stop pointing the finger of blame and focus on what Amy was truly about it opened my eyes to her music. Her handwritten songs and naive teenage poems sung with a wise and mature ‘beyond her years’ voice. She says herself she’s happiest when making music.

I love Amy as a hero and someone to look up to. Yes I love the romance of her story and the rebel in her appeals to mine. But what she stands for for me is all the fierce yet vulnerable, damaged yet expressive women out there. I know my creativity continues to save me, I just wish it could have saved her. I would love to hear what music she had left to give us. Love you Amy, I’ll fight on for you.