ARE Whitney Houston and Amy Winehouse duetting in heaven?
Sadly, they’re more likely to be sharing a crack pipe than belting out the hits.
OK, that’s a bit cruel, but these were two singers who had it all and then squandered it. And that’s criminal as far as I’m concerned.
Like with Amy, Whitney’s death is as sad as it is pointless.
She had the world at her feet, threw it all away to drug addiction and then realised, too late, that once you’ve ruined your vocal chords you’ve ruined them for good.
The singer was a shadow of her former self when I attended her gig at the SECC in May 2010.
Her voice was weak and raspy, and she seemed to lack confidence in her own ability, despite the huge crowd willing her to do well.
She clearly wasn’t in a good place that night. Nor had she been for quite some time.
It was sad to see how far she’d fallen because, in her prime, Whitney was an unbelievable talent with one of the best voices of all time.
The daughter of gospel singer Cissy Houston, whose cousin was Dionne Warwick, and whose godmother was Aretha Franklin, she seemed born for a life in music.
And so it proved from the mid-1980s to the late 1990s when she was the golden girl of the pop industry, with the perfect voice and the perfect look to match.
It’s for this reason that, as we contemplate her passing, at the age of just 48, it would be wrong to focus solely on her dark and tragic demise.
Instead, we should celebrate her talent - which is something that’s not up for debate.