The jukebox is broken, so Winehouse commands the bar’s iPod — with the exception of Nas and Mos Def and The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, she doesn’t want to have much to do with anything post-1960s funk and doo-wop. “I don’t listen to a lot of new stuff,” she says, thick accent tripped up by the hint of a stutter. “I just like the old stuff. It’s all quite dramatic and atmospheric. You’d have an entire story in a song. I never listen to, like, white music — I couldn’t sing you a Zeppelin or Floyd song.”