Amy Winehouse says goodbye to Brazil

...by Janis Joplin
(translated by Thaddeus Blanchette. The original can be found here. Segue o link para o original.)

Amy Winehouse and an unidentified Brazilian friend enjoy afternoon

cocktails on the veranda of the Hotel Santa Teresa.

Amy's left town already? Her Brazilian tour is over? That's it? Half a dozen pocket shows, a flash of her tits from the hotel veranda, a few other photos showing her looking drunk and lost, a stumble, an attempt to sing into her water bottle as if it were the mike and a few discreet exits from the stage during her performances?

That's all?

And people still want to compare her to me? For the free love of God! I recognize that the girl has talent. She's an inspired singer with a potent voice. She has carisma and a good nose for repertoire. But in terms of tossing a world class fit, on or off stage, she still has much to learn.

When I was in Rio, also in search of rehab, I did a lot more than one would expect a marginal pop star to do.

Janis in Rio, 1970.

(And isn't it odd that the Third World is often used as a rehab center by washed up or burnt out stars? Perhaps the audiences there are so thankful for some contact with their idol that they'll applaud even when she forgets the words or spits out her dentures. Maybe now that the BRICs are getting stronger, we'll see Benito di Paula do a tour of the U.S. with semi-V.I.P. boxes going for 300 bucks a head.)

Whatdaya think, Benny?

But like I was saying, when I was in Rio in February 1970 during the Medici dictatorship (and isn't it interesting that HE isn't up here in Heaven?), I really kicked out the jams. I was tossed out of the Copacabana Palace on my ass for swimming naked in the pool. I sang in brothels, mixed barbiturates with caipirinhas and Globo biscuits... I was busted several times for going topless on the beach. And then there was the biggest scandal of them all: I fucked Serguei. Or so they say. And if they say so, I believe it. I certainly can't remember what happened.

Say it loud, Serguei! "I'm a douchebag and I'm proud!"



And just look at how things are now. None of that would even raise an eyebrow today. (Well, maybe fucking Serguei would still shock some folks as an act of exceptional courage.) Excesses and outrageous behavior are the classic script for for a drugged-out rock star. It's what's expected. What no one was really ready for was the sight of Amy at Bibi Lanches on Copacabana placidly eating a bowl of açai fruit with granola.

Today, in order to shock, you need far more than a dose of heroin. A pop star would need to, I dunno, marry Michel Temer, start her show on time, say she doesn't have an e-mail account or declare that she thinks social networking is garbage and a tremedous waste of time.

Or, if she wants to get really radical, she'd at the very least have to refuse to get a pair of silicon tits.

(Hats off to Blog da Janis. Our translation of their material is done volutarily and represents no challenege to their ownership of it.)