Valerie

Mark Ronson's production on "Valerie" wraps Amy Winehouse in a time capsule she wasn't supposed to need — all punchy brass, tambourine shimmer, and a rhythm section that bounces with effortless cool. The original by The Zutons had a plaintive indie quality; Winehouse and Ronson retrofitted it into something that sounds like 1965 Motown filtered through 2006 Camden Town. Amy's voice does extraordinary things within what should be a simple structure: she bends syllables into small emotional events, adding blue notes and rhythmic anticipations that make you feel she's improvising even on the tenth listen. The lyric is essentially a one-sided conversation with an absent friend — wry, affectionate, faintly accusatory — and Amy delivers it with the easy charisma of someone who's never been self-conscious in her life. The song became one of her signature moments precisely because it showcases her natural warmth alongside her vocal virtuosity. Best heard on a drive, windows down, when the city looks cinematic.