Roger Porter
July 24, 2011
She wasn’t supposed to actually die. She was just supposed to amuse us with her self-destructive antics until we got bored with her, until we ceased to enjoy listening to her music, reading about her in the tabloids, and watching her theatrical melt downs on YouTube. Until we found someone younger, more reckless, and prettier— even then she wasn’t supposed to die.
Who would have thought that the lady who took a snort of cocaine on stage in front of thousands of people, and made her refusal to seek professional help for her addictions a smash hit, would ever actually overdose on drugs? It’s hard to imagine that the charismatic woman with the soulful voice but who seemingly had self-esteem lower than both Janis Joplin and Billie Holiday would torture herself to death with a syringe. Assuming that is what actually happened, for at the moment the public doesn’t know for sure. All we know is that the awesome light from one of the most extraordinary supernovas ever has faded out of sight.
She gave her life in front of us and for that we should be proud. How sad it is to know that no matter how long we applaud there will be no more encores.This time the show is really over. This time we must leave the concert hall. This time we must spill out into the frigid streets and find our lonely homes.