I began the day early enough, organising thoughts and DJ sets and pieces of writing, aware that it was the funeral of Amy Winehouse (who had unfortunately joined the '27 Club' of Music on Saturday) happening right now as I write this, perusing Twitter and the news as I did so. I stumbled upon a @BadTasteJokes joke on the current situation which I felt would tickle Bobby judging by the flurry of text messages he had sent me since the news of her death; in a similar way the family cat proudly displays the present of bloody, dead bird body parts. It went,
"Amy Winehouse approaches the gates of Heaven and is at the back of a massive queue of people. St. Peter beckons her to the front. "Am I getting special treatment because of my fame?" she asks. St. Peter replies, "No, we're still waiting for a Norwegian translator for this lot!"
Within the time it takes to play one of his Northern Soul 45s he had replied and the following text conversation ensued; presented as it is in all its glory, warts-and-all.
"No more amy winehouse joke's ive had enough of them" he pleaded.
Being well into my day by this point, which is unusual for me to be fair, the day's motivation turned its attention to my mischievous nature.
"I'm blatantly gonna keep sending them to you forever & ever then!!!" I threatened, cajoling the reaction that duly, and promptly, arrived.
"You can kiss them records goodbye the one's you want to borrow"
I was playing the 'favour game' disastrously and quickly realised a little back-step, Bobby soothing was required.
"Oh come on Bobby, don't be like that! You know how funny I think it is winding you up?!
D'u not want any more Winehouse jokes because she was Soul and you're beginning to miss her? You've just realised the pain?!"
"I'm crying my eye's out sat here"
Well; I was speechless with that response. A more careful and considered reply was required if I wanted to claw back the opportunity of borrowing some of his records, one of which, coincidentally & more than a little ironically, was 'I Wish I Didn't Miss You' by Angie Stone.
"Oh bless! I don't know whether to take you serious or not.
I must admit I think it's a crying shame. Don't care what anybody says, she was Soul & she was British.
Who else do we have now?"
He didn't miss a beat, jumping straight in with the suggestion,
"Is hot chocalate still together"
"I think so, why?" I puzzled.
"There soul arnt thay and british"
Unbelievable. Bobby's managed to move from mourning Amy to solace in the knowledge Hot Chocolate are still flying the flag for British Soul!
"Yeah but they're men! She was a lady; well sort of a lady!" I incredulously reasoned, my point being that Amy Winehouse was the nearest we have ever got to having our very own Billie, Ella or Etta.
Bobby had different thoughts floating around his head now though, "Wasn't she a jew? (with a nose like that)," and I can feel the mourning period well & truly lifted.
"Dunno. Possibly. North London & all that.
Just spoken to Owen & he works really close to her (old) house."
Instantly he opines his wisdom with a terse, "I bet she is," "And she is not realy black and she sing jazz," in his best ill-fitting Mississippian mimicry. Bobby Casino IS Soul. I forgot for a moment there.
I needed to tie this text conversation up and I offered him,
"You being cantankerous towards her because you're feeling the fact it's her funeral or is it because she's (probably) Jewish, ugly & a white jazz singer?"
"You go[t] it" is Bobby's final assessment.
Bobby will sleep well tonight now he has worked her out. Amy beware. Bobby knows best: Bestest Bob. Girl, you better hope that Hot Chocolate get to where you're going before Bobby does because 'Whatcha See Is Whatch Get' and he has a bone to pick with you. Bobby (says he) knows his Soul.
Regardless of Bobby Casino's opinions Amy Winehouse is, in my humble opinion, without doubt the finest (Modern) Soul singer we have, certainly in the female stakes, and her talent will be greatly mourned despite the personal problems she used her considerable talents to voice. Hopefully those demons have died along with her. We have our own demon & he goes by the name of Bobby Casino.
Rest In Peace Amy Winehouse.
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