Tem muita bobagem sendo dita. Russel Brand é um palhaço, um womanizer que encontrou Katy Perry e a luz. Mas antes, ele conheceu Winehouse (gostava de chamá-la assim, pelo sobrenome) vagando pelos bares de Camdem Town. E é dele um dos textos mais sinceros sobre a cantora. Abaixo, o trecho em que conta o dia em que, depois de conhecê-la por meses nas mesas e cantos da Camdem sem jamais tê-la ouvido cantar, ele finalmente descobriu do que a moça era capaz:

“I arrived late and as I made my way to the audience through the plastic smiles and plastic cups I heard the rolling, wondrous resonance of a female vocal. Entering the space I saw Amy on stage with Weller and his band; and then the awe. The awe that envelops when witnessing a genius. From her oddly dainty presence that voice, a voice that seemed not to come from her but from somewhere beyond even Billie and Ella, from the font of all greatness. A voice that was filled with such power and pain that it was at once entirely human yet laced with the divine. My ears, my mouth, my heart and mind all instantly opened. Winehouse. Winehouse? Winehouse! That twerp, all eyeliner and lager dithering up Chalk Farm Road under a back-combed barnet, the lips that I’d only seen clenching a fishwife fag and dribbling curses now a portal for this holy sound. So now I knew. She wasn’t just some hapless wannabe, yet another pissed up nit who was never gonna make it, nor was she even a ten-a-penny-chanteuse enjoying her fifteen minutes. She was a fucking genius.”

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