For Amy Winehouse, life was a losing game. Her inability to thrive in the vortex of fame is one of the great tragedies of modern pop culture. And yet she stands, on the strength of two albums, as a rebuke to anyone who’d argue that the last two decades haven’t produced any artists who deserve to be remembered as classic. Winehouse made a lasting contribution to a long-lived and timeless genre; music to weep to. She was a torch singer who put every shard of her cracked-up soul into her songs. How many times, since 2006, have I turned in bad times to Amy Winehouse and her declarations of heartache? So, so many.