Let me get this out of the way first: I’m not a fan of Amy Winehouse. I don’t hate her, but I don’t care about her music, either. That being said, much has been made of the so-called “27 club.” And it is weird. Very weird. I have no idea what’s up with that. It’s kind of ludicrous, though to place her there alongside Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison and even Kurt Cobain. I hope she doesn’t become some kind of tragic martyr figure now. I mean, the woman hasn’t released an album since 2006. She’s been too busy smoking crack and making a public spectacle of herself. Rock stars of the past did the same things, but at the same time, they were putting shit out. Kids who were 13 in 2006, when “Rehab” was popular are starting college now. They know Amy Winehouse as a fucked-up celebrity mess, not as an artist. She might as well be Snookie or Kim Kardashian. Famous for being famous. I really don’t want to be hearing about this bitch for the next 30 years, seeing her on memorial T-shirts and all this nonsense. (Like Sid Vicious; yeah, that was a real loss to humanity. I love the Pistols, but Sid was worthless as a member of the band, his presence merely symbolic, as they didn’t plug him in most of the time because he sucked ass. ) I hope that doesn’t happen. Hopefully she’ll be quietly forgotten, or at least relegated to a footnote in musical history. Hell, Robert Johnson died at 27, and as far as most people are concerned, he’s little more than a footnote. And yet his influence was so widespread that it’s difficult to imagine what music would be like today had he not existed. They never mention him when they talk about the 27 Club. Do we now have to live with Amy Winehouse automatically elevated to legendary status simply because she’s dead? I hope not. She was talented, I’ll admit that, but she’s no Janis Joplin. And I don’t even like her, either.