their door down. I didn’t go out looking to be famous,’ she says. ‘I’m just a musician.’ Her designated manager at 19 admitted at the time, ‘She can be very frustrating. But I don’t have an issue with her frankness,’ he says. ‘She’s a real artist who’s going to make records for years to come, someone passionate who speaks their mind and isn’t interested in money.’ In 2006, she and Fuller parted company and she took up Raye Cosbert as her new manager.
Before long, Amy had signed her first record deal with Universal/Island Records. Darcus Beese was the label’s A&R man who signed her and he says his rivals were ‘gutted’ to miss out on Amy. Beese was of course jubilant and arranged to show off his new acquisition to the great and the good of his company. Amy played an acoustic set in the boardroom of Universal/Island. As she sat down in the posh leather seats, she nervously clipped her hair back, politely declining an offer of a glass of water. Then her nerves dispersed as she launched into a smooth, acoustic offering of ‘There Is No Greater Love’.At the end of the song, she received a rapturous round of applause from the music executives, who were delighted to have such a potentially profitable artist on their books. They could see the pound signs in front of their very eyes.
The artist known as John the White Rapper remembers meeting Amy around this time and being blown away by both her personality and voice. ‘Once there, I didn’t really say much to be honest, but Amy was singing and I remember being shocked – I’d never heard anybody sing so beautifully so close to me; all I could talk about when we walked home was getting her into the studio.’ Their friendship was swiftly declared. ‘After that we started to hang out. I was a bit of a nice guy, really. I’d go round and there’d be mess like you would not believe – piles of washing-up everywhere – and I hate mess so I used to wash up. I think that’s what made her love me.’
Again, though, Amy wasn’t seeing things quite the same way. Her father Mitch says that, to the laid-back Amy, signing up with Universal/Island was ‘just her way of getting her music out’. Amy confirms this: ‘I honestly never thought I would make any money from music – I figured I’d get a job in an office or as a waitress. I never had a great plan or promoted myself, but in a way I’ve been working for this for years.’ She recalls her sense of puzzlement when it first all took off for her. ‘He [Nicky Shamansky] said to me, “Do you want some studio time?” and I was so green around the gills I was just, like, “For what?” He said, “Well, if you write songs with your guitar and make a record, you’ll get a record deal.” I was like, “Really? What do you get out of it?” I guess I’m a very lucky girl.’
How typical of Amy – to think she was the lucky one in the equation. To the outsider, the lucky people in this equation were the record company who captured the talent of this extraordinary young woman. Lucky, too, were the listeners who would get to hear her wonderful songs. However, Amy has always put music ahead of not just fame but also ego. In any case, with her signature secured on the contract, the next step for her record label was to get her to put out a record. And what a wonderful yet controversial record it was to prove to be!
Chapter Four
T O BE F RANK
A s Mitchell Winehouse drove his taxi around London in the autumn of 2003, he saw posters with his daughter’s face on them. The posters were promoting her new album, Frank . Released on 23 October 2003, Frank is an album of relentless contradictions. Not only did its musical styles and lyrical themes often contrast with each other, so did much of the wider story of the album, which was spoken of more highly by many reviewers than it was by Amy herself.
It was produced mainly by the renowned hip-hop producer Salaam Remi, who was a fantastic man to have at
Before long, Amy had signed her first record deal with Universal/Island Records. Darcus Beese was the label’s A&R man who signed her and he says his rivals were ‘gutted’ to miss out on Amy. Beese was of course jubilant and arranged to show off his new acquisition to the great and the good of his company. Amy played an acoustic set in the boardroom of Universal/Island. As she sat down in the posh leather seats, she nervously clipped her hair back, politely declining an offer of a glass of water. Then her nerves dispersed as she launched into a smooth, acoustic offering of ‘There Is No Greater Love’.At the end of the song, she received a rapturous round of applause from the music executives, who were delighted to have such a potentially profitable artist on their books. They could see the pound signs in front of their very eyes.
The artist known as John the White Rapper remembers meeting Amy around this time and being blown away by both her personality and voice. ‘Once there, I didn’t really say much to be honest, but Amy was singing and I remember being shocked – I’d never heard anybody sing so beautifully so close to me; all I could talk about when we walked home was getting her into the studio.’ Their friendship was swiftly declared. ‘After that we started to hang out. I was a bit of a nice guy, really. I’d go round and there’d be mess like you would not believe – piles of washing-up everywhere – and I hate mess so I used to wash up. I think that’s what made her love me.’
Again, though, Amy wasn’t seeing things quite the same way. Her father Mitch says that, to the laid-back Amy, signing up with Universal/Island was ‘just her way of getting her music out’. Amy confirms this: ‘I honestly never thought I would make any money from music – I figured I’d get a job in an office or as a waitress. I never had a great plan or promoted myself, but in a way I’ve been working for this for years.’ She recalls her sense of puzzlement when it first all took off for her. ‘He [Nicky Shamansky] said to me, “Do you want some studio time?” and I was so green around the gills I was just, like, “For what?” He said, “Well, if you write songs with your guitar and make a record, you’ll get a record deal.” I was like, “Really? What do you get out of it?” I guess I’m a very lucky girl.’
How typical of Amy – to think she was the lucky one in the equation. To the outsider, the lucky people in this equation were the record company who captured the talent of this extraordinary young woman. Lucky, too, were the listeners who would get to hear her wonderful songs. However, Amy has always put music ahead of not just fame but also ego. In any case, with her signature secured on the contract, the next step for her record label was to get her to put out a record. And what a wonderful yet controversial record it was to prove to be!
Chapter Four
T O BE F RANK
A s Mitchell Winehouse drove his taxi around London in the autumn of 2003, he saw posters with his daughter’s face on them. The posters were promoting her new album, Frank . Released on 23 October 2003, Frank is an album of relentless contradictions. Not only did its musical styles and lyrical themes often contrast with each other, so did much of the wider story of the album, which was spoken of more highly by many reviewers than it was by Amy herself.
It was produced mainly by the renowned hip-hop producer Salaam Remi, who was a fantastic man to have at
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