The first time I saw Coco Lamarr sing “Back to Black,” the room held its breath. For three minutes, no one reached for their drink. No one whispered to their friend. It was as if the ghosts in the rafters of the Caliking Studios had shown up to listen, too. This was more than just a cover. Coco’s performance of Amy Winehouse is a reckoning.
The problem we have with listening to covers, is that it’s exactly the same as the original in a copy of a copy of a copy kind of way but this isn’t that. Amy met Coco somewhere in the ache, in the rasp, in that split-second between breath and surrender where music stops being performance and starts being exorcism.
This is The Winehouse Revival. And if you think you’ve seen a tribute show, think again.
“When I sing this song live, it’s cathartic. And when the crowd sings along, it’s a powerful reminder that I’m not alone—and neither are they.”
Who Is Coco Lamarr?
If you haven’t heard Coco Lamarr’s name before now, that’s going to change and not just because I am telling you to go listen to her but because this is bigger than my review. She’s not new to the stage, far from it.
Since 2018, she’s been captivating audiences across Los Angeles, Sacramento and even Las Vegas with a voice that’s drawn comparisons to Amy Winehouse, not because she tries to sound like her, but because something in her tone makes people stop in their tracks.
A favorite in the jazz, cabaret and burlesque scenes, Coco has graced stages like The Globe Theatre, The Wiltern and The Palace Theatre. She even earned a standing ovation from Quentin Tarantino. The Winehouse Revival is different. It isn’t just music. It’s communion. I want to be perfectly clear that I don’t think she’s impersonating Amy. She’s resurrecting the emotion and daring the audience to feel it with her.
“I like to think of it less as reviving Amy—because there will never be another Amy, not really—and more as reviving the music through my lens.”
Not a Tribute. A Translation.
The easy thing would be to call this a tribute show but Coco doesn’t do easy. What she does is haunt the room.
She opens herself up to every jagged, bruised and beautiful moment baked into Amy’s lyrics and she tells the truth. She’s not there to tell you Amy’s truth but her own and that kind of vulnerability is so rare in any form of music.
And isn’t that what music should be?
“Certain songs require you to reopen emotional wounds again and again just to sing them with the kind of soul Amy did.”
Coco isn’t chasing polish or chasing nostalgia. She’s chasing a raw, real and sometimes inconvenient connection. That means going somewhere emotionally dangerous in front of a crowd. It means not always being “on.” It means reading the room not by applause but by breath patterns and stillness. It’s jazz. It’s grief. It’s magic.
There’s intention in everything and we are here for that. From the setlist to the pacing to her choice not to socialize before shows, it all has a deeper meaning. She protects her energy because she knows what it takes to be present in heartbreak, and she refuses to show up halfway.
“If I don’t connect to a song on a personal level, I won’t do it justice. I’m not a jukebox.”
The Winehouse Revival:
Amy’s Lyrics, Coco’s Wounds
Every note in Amy’s catalog carries weight, something Coco knows intimately. “Take the Box” doesn’t just play. It relives something.
“I had to go collect my things from an ex’s house. His friends and their girlfriends were all there, and I packed everything into this pathetic little box. He wasn’t even home. I wrote a four-page letter I never left.”
That story lives in her voice every time she sings it. And it’s not just that one song.
From “Fuck Me Pumps” to “Love Is a Losing Game,” Coco moves between confession and confrontation, inviting the audience into the contradiction.
She sings to us, yes, but she also sings to the girl she used to be. It’s the young woman who took too much shit because that every woman’s fucking burden.
But also, the one who broke someone’s heart because she hadn’t yet learned how not to. She is singing to the female experience and you get to confront that, whether you like it or not.
“Amy never sanitized her messiness, and in a way that makes me feel safe to admit to mine.”
more than the winehouse revival
A Career, Reimagined
Coco has been performing full-time since 2017 and producing burlesque shows since 2019. She’s no stranger to the spotlight but The Winehouse Revival asks more of her from a spiritual perspective. I ask you to think about the musicians and performers that you are fans of and support and enjoy. Do you connect to Taylor Swift because you she has the best voice ever or because her songwriting from personal experience connects with you? These are not two far off comparisons.
“I’m putting myself out there through music that shaped me, and I’m asking the audience to meet me in that raw, unguarded space.”
And in the midst of all of this, Coco is also writing and recording her debut EP, and she credits this show, this work, for giving her the courage to dig deeper.
She’s writing songs that don’t tie things up neatly.
She’s standing in the tension of being both villain and survivor and to forgive herself out loud.
Some nights feature just the music, backed by a full band. Others fold in drag, burlesque or specialty acts, a nod to Coco’s cabaret roots and her belief that showmanship can be expansive without being shallow.
“Amy didn’t perform from a polished, perfect place—she performed from her gut. I try to meet the material with that same kind of raw honesty.”
Why Amy Still Matters
When Amy Winehouse died at 27, the world mourned a voice it didn’t fully understand.
Some people focused on the drama and others on the addiction or the spiral. But those who listened, like really listened, knew what was lost.
Amy was the soundtrack for the tender-hearted girls with bite.
The women who loved recklessly and regretted nothing until it broke them. She wrote like someone who wasn’t afraid to bleed in public and made it sound like vintage jazz.
She mattered because she was messy, brilliant, and unwilling to tone herself down. And that’s why she still matters. Because we’re still told to smile and to quiet down. The world asks women to be agreeable but Amy wasn’t.
And neither is Coco.
“Her music gave voice to all the messy, complicated emotions people are usually taught to hide—grief, shame, longing, codependency, rage.”
The Final Note
When the last note rings out, Coco doesn’t ask for applause. She doesn’t need it. She leaves the room different than she found it, emptier in some places, fuller in others.
This show is for the folks who never got to see Amy live and for the ones who did, but would give anything to feel that again. It’s for the heartbroken, the healing and the ones still standing in the wreckage.
If you walk away feeling seen, Coco’s done her job.
“This show is also an act of self-forgiveness. It’s a reminder that we’ve all been the villain in someone’s story. What matters is whether we’re doing the work to be better.”
Upcoming Southern California Dates
7/23 – The Kookaburra Lounge (Los Angeles)
Tickets available now
8/13 – “Return to Porchester Hall” @ The Velvet Martini Lounge (Studio City)
Tickets to be announced…
8/24 – The Inaugural Long Beach Revival Festival Jazz & Soul (Long Beach)
Tickets available now
9/10 – “It’s My Party! A Birthday Tribute to Amy Winehouse” @ Saint Rocke (Hermosa Beach)
Tickets on sale July 10: etix.com link
Upcoming Northern California Dates
8/29 – Good Luck Lounge (Sacramento) – Free
8/30 – HORN Barbecue (Elk Grove) – Free
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