My favorite album of 2007 was Amy Winehouse’s Back To Black. Sure, she’s a hot mess, but you can’t deny that Voice. While “Rehab” was inescapable (as both single and somewhat ironic stopover for the beleaguered Brit), “Tears Dry On Their Own” and “Back To Black” are two highlights that immediately earned InfiniteRepeat™ on my iPod.

“Tears” wears a Motown influence proudly on its sleeve by nicking a “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” sample. But lest you think this is some long-forgotten 45 from the halls of Hitsville U.S.A., Ms. Winehouse sneaks in a salty phrase to remind you that this is her unique concoction of the old and new; familiar, yet fresh.

The disc’s title track is reminiscent of 60’s girl-group storytelling, channeling The Shangri-Las‘ “(Remember) Walking in the Sand.” A bad girl in a bad place, Amy laments losing her lover to another (woman? drugs?). Embellished by a Spectorian wall of strings (according to the liner notes: 10 violins, 4 violas, and 3 cellos) just barely kept at bay, “Black” becomes a timeless mini-symphony in under four minutes.

Visiting London last May, I couldn’t resist picking up the white-vinyl “Back To Black” single (with the UK-standard narrow spindle hole). That’s how taken I am with Ms. Winehouse.

So if you haven’t really given her album a spin, do so before the Grammy Awards next month. With six nominations, including Best New Artist, Amy will likely not be going home empty-handed. Whatever her behind-the-scenes troubles, beehive or blonde, she’s the tops.