I can't explain it

Sometimes, a person's voice touches me in ways I can't explain. I'm not a huge country western fan and there are lots of country western and Texas country artists I enjoy more than Alan Jackson. However, there is a certain note that Alan Jackson hits when he sings that, I kid you not, sends shivers down my spine.

The feeling starts at the base of my neck, then I just get all nice and warm all over. Toasty hot. It's sort of like that feeling you get when you're sitting in the perfect seat at a concert and the bass is thumping so hard you can feel it through your chair, if you get my drift, and I'm pretty sure you do. (Hint: It's not that high note at the end of this video.)

At, quite possibly, the totally opposite end of that musical spectrum is Amy Winehouse. From the first time I heard her voice, I was mesmerized. Yes, the woman has her problems. Huge problems. My wishes for her to fix those problems are purely selfish. Her voice touches my psyche in a way I can't explain. Get your act together, Amy, if not for yourself, for me. Because, really, isn't that what it's all about? Me?