Amy Winehouse, 12 years gone, was a perfectionist who hated revisiting the past. She was also a fiercely private artist who closely guarded her process, only revealing songs when she felt they were finished, or as evolved as they could be. We’re told this in the foreword, written by both of her parents, to a generous scrapbook of Winehouse’s personal effects – candid pictures, notes to self, lists, abandoned lyrics, school reports, baby photos – laid out for all the world to see. You can only conclude that one or the other (Mitch Winehouse and Janis Winehouse-Collins split up when Amy was nine) has a very big loft.
It’s impossible to know how Winehouse would have felt about all this, even if the proceeds of this relentlessly touching, often funny coffee table book go to support the charities set up in her name. (At the end there are moving testimonials from two people Amy’s Place, a rehab facility, has helped.)
