Well now she has, it seems, suffered an Amy Winehouse death. It was probably suicide.
Her last tweet describes her as inconsolable since the suicide of her son: “Been living as undead night creature… Lost in the bardo without him.”
Like Winehouse, her art was the art of the fully exposed nerve, the gift of the inability to be anything other than fully out there as damaged and confused beyond repair.
“I’m not a pop star. I’m just a troubled soul who needs to scream into mikes now and then.”