I miss Amy.

Now, there’s Google +.  This 40something can’t even get his Twitter account running and he’s now pressured to sign up for a new way to interact online.

Just the other day, a friend got all excited about launching his new album sans the familiar album jacket.  The songs will all be offered in a stick.  I didn’t get excited at all.  There goes the liner notes, I thought.  I’m a sucker for dispensable literature.

I like appreciating my music, and the graphic design within which it’s packaged.  I like filing them neatly, alphabetically.  Just how do you file those thumb drives?  In a lipstick tray?

In a insignificant fit of rebellion against technology and all its intangibleness, I revisited my CD collection tonight and transferred some songs I’ve loved through the years into my iTunes.   It’s such a joy to rediscover gems from the movies.

There’s Bridget Jones:  Edge of Reason.  The movie’s forgettable.  The only thing I remember was Renee Zellweger’s tired Method ways of getting (fat) into character.    But the soundtrack has Amy Winehouse crooning Carole King’s Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.  It’s better than Bryan Ferry’s cover.  And worth playing over and over than Carole’s.

I miss Amy.  Please come back.  Please get out of rehab and record your next song.  Your Back to Black album was the only one I enjoyed listening to in its entirety in the last few years.  These days, savoring every song in an album is as rare as not having a stick.