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Watching Amy in her early shows was like watching someone in another world.
She'd hit a lyric or a melody and her eyes would roll back, her whole body would be so into it; you'd just look at her and know she was gone.
The dream was always to manage her, and for her to become a huge artist. And don't just talk to one, talk to five, six, seven, and then pick out the most consistent advice.
I realised that I had to do whatever it took to make her see that something was wrong.The sad thing is that at that point she was only getting high from her music.Towards the end, when she got lost in the drugs and the alcohol, I never saw her perform like that again.One day, I drove her to the middle of nowhere, just the two of us, and said: “I need to make my point very clear to you.
We're not going anywhere until you've acknowledged there is a problem, and until you realise that, I'm not going to be around.” Amy reacted badly. I took her to her father's house in Bluewater, but when we got there they turned on me. He told me to look at her and see that she didn't need rehab. She's just getting used to her career, and growing up, becoming a woman.There was something deeper going on: depression and a lack of control.