Sir Elton John, Brett and I went to see Amy Winehouse perform last night at Shepherds Bush Emporium. Her new husband and her Dad came along as well. I’m not saying we all arrived together and went for beers after the show, but we were all packed into the tiny venue together to see Amy sing.

Now I think Amy Winehouse is one of the greatest singer songwriters of all time. She’s only in her early twenties and has already written a bunch of jazz standards. She could sing Christmas carols under water and still be awesome.

But I have to say this gig was a bit half arsed. She came on late and left early and looked like she had somewhere better to be.

When she wobbled around half pissed on those ridiculously high heels with those spindly legs I couldn’t help think of Bambi. Her tragic vulnerability is fascinating, but it’s a bit like watching a train crash about to happen.

I still love her to bits.