More about Amy
On a good day in London you might actually hear the sound of the melting pot. In a cafe there could be jazz. As the cars go by, hip hop beats and basslines. Some old reggae booming from the neighbourhood vinyl shop. Home, and your noisy flat mate's blaring TV on the R'n'B channel. It's not going to happen every day, but over a lifetime, even a short one of nineteen years, the history of sweet, strong urban sounds might rub into a person's blood, and that person might grow up musically wise before their years. It could be a girl, white or black. She could be funny, tough, smart, idealistic and devoted to musicianship. If she had a voice that was timeless and salaciously textured and capable of melting concrete even on low heat, that would be too good to wish for.
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