Since the documentary Amy is about to hit German theaters, Josie Thaddeus-Johns examines what has made Amy Winehouse such an icon for LGBTI* listeners

When Amy Winehouse died, I was living around the corner from her house in Camden, North London. For days, you could hear the mourners in the streets, not just outside her house itself, but in the neighboring parks, even the forecourt of the garage. They sat in a vigil, their eyeliner dripping down their tear-stained faces, all the way from the edge of their eyebrows to the collar stripes of their Fred Perry shirts. The new documentary Amy explores the British singer’s cult-like following, drawing on home videos, live performance footage and interviews with Winehouse’s friends and family. The film makes it easy to see why she was so loved by fans. Charismatic, vastly talented and the epitome of the British epithet “gobby”, she was instantly recognizable, from the distinctive timbre of her voice to her trademark beehive and eyeliner.
This distinctiveness is how an idol is born, of course for fans in general, but especially for LGBTI* fans, who have always embraced non-conforming stars. For it was never only straight women imitating the huge hair and thickly ticked eyelids: Drag queens across the world have taken Winehouse’s look and run with it. (Berliners might recognize the name Äimi Weinhaus.) And when Camden was full of mourners, back in July 2011, there was a clear contingent from the LGBTI* community overflowing with grief.
What is it that creates a queer musical icon? One part of it is a sense of their being an outsider. We see this throughout Amy – from her musical inspirations (unfashionable jazz) to her mental health issues. All of these characteristics endeared her to a queer audience, who have had their own share of feeling different. Amy Winehouse’s raw openness in her songs is surely another part of it – love and sex and all the pain that comes along with them. It’s messy, yes, but also real, and honest: Can you think of any other hit that features the lyrics “kept his dick wet”? If you’ve ever held your sexuality close to your chest, this open expression of raw feelings means something more – Winehouse’s lyrical directness creates a confidante in its listener. It also acts as a validation, breaking down the social barriers of how we should talk about sex.
This is why, in the midst of a slew of new music docs this year – most notably, Cobain: Montage of Heck –  this is one bound to resonate particularly with queer fans. Winehouse created her own visual and lyrical mythology, and the film builds on this. As in the Kurt flick, the use of never-before-seen home videos constructs a behind-the-songs narrative for the singer, one that was prominent in the press. Amy creates a fiction of a victim of success, an exaggerated version of reality, just like we hear in her songs. And yet, still we want more. It’s hard not to watch the film as a tragedy in which the media plays a crucial role. And even so, here we are watching it, satisfying this voyeuristic need in us to know every little thing about the story behind these lyrics that move us so much – in the end, perhaps they were all Amy was able to give.

Amy, UK 2015, Dir.: Asif Kapadia, out Jul. 16, now playing

Josie Thaddeus-Johns is SIEGESSÄULE contributor and online/associate editor of Sleek