Jim’s prompt for this week is ‘unrealised potential’. It seems to me that there are two broad reasons why the potential of an artiste or artistes could remain unrealised.

Thus a band can break up because of ‘artistic differences’, which can be a polite euphemism for a clash of egos, often leading to the disappointing realisation that the whole was always going to be greater than the sum of its constituent parts. On close reading, this may be what Jim is really looking for but – well, I got nothing.

The second reason, not to put too fine a point on it, is death (although that is sometimes characterised as a great career move). Musing on this, I turned my thoughts to the so-called ’27 Club’: the disturbing number of prominent musicians who, whether by accident or design, shuffled off this mortal coil at that age: Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison: there are lots more.

Again, this isn’t quite fulfilling the brief, because these artistes were already acclaimed but – well, I got nothing. You could certainly argue, however, that they still had a lot to give, so there was unrealised potential.

A newer member of the 27 Club is the immensely talented Amy Winehouse. ‘You Know I’m No Good’ is from 2007’s seminal album ‘Back To Black’ and it could be said that these lyrics display the self-destructive streak that was clearly a contributory factor in her too-early demise.

Meet you downstairs in the bar and hurt
Your rolled-up sleeves in your skull t-shirt
You say, “What did you do with him today?”
And sniffed me out like I was Tanqueray

‘Cause you’re my fella, my guy
Hand me your Stella and fly
By the time I’m out the door
You tear me down like Roger Moore

I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told you I was trouble
You know that I’m no good

Upstairs in bed, with my ex-boy
He’s in a place, but I can’t get joy
Thinking on you in the final throes
This is when my buzzer goes

Run out to meet you, chips and pitta
You say, “When we’re married”
‘Cause you’re not bitter
“There’ll be none of him no more”
I cried for you on the kitchen floor

I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told you I was trouble
You know that I’m no good

Sweet reunion, Jamaica and Spain
We’re like how we were again
I’m in the tub, you on the seat
Lick your lips as I soap my feet

Then you notice likkle carpet burn
My stomach drop and my guts churn
You shrug and it’s the worst
To truly stuck the knife in first

I cheated myself
Like I knew I would
I told you I was trouble
You know that I’m no good

Written by Amy Winehouse

Song Lyric Sunday 28 September 2025