Eurovision Again: Spain 1969

If the Eurovision Again cultural phenomenon has passed you by, here's a primer.  It's a sync viewing of classic Eurovision Song Contests, with chat and voting organised via Twitter.  It was set up during lockdown as fandom therapy for the cancellation of Rotterdam 2020. Eurovision geeks hit play on YouTube at the same time, and all get transported back to something familiar but different. 

This month we travelled to Madrid and the sixties, and BOY OH BOY, what a treat it was (backdrop of Francoist dictatorship aside).  Two hours of Eurovision imagined by Almodovar channelling Mad Men. Except, of course, this is the original cultural source and an authentic encapsulation of that aesthetic - so really this was the discovery that Almodovar and Mad Men channelled Eurovision 1969.  Everyone present was attractive, elegant, void of excess weight and nothing other than immaculately turned out.  What a world. (Backdrop of Francoist dictatorship aside.)

There's only one presenter at the helm (one! imagine!), the perfectly named Laurita Valenzuela – a vision in a lace jumpsuit, with bridal lampshade peplum and peach satin ribbon belt; like fancy, comfy, award-ceremony pyjamas. Laurita, script to hand in a leather-bound folder (not that she needs it, except for the German bit) spends less than three minutes on opening pleasantries, via five different languages and some cursory hellos.  No ramp-up-the-excitement VTs, no bad chemistry between hosts or awkward attempts at humour, no nod to last year's contest, winner or host - just straight on to the songs.  The lo-fi is extraordinary by modern standards - the singer and their backing dancers/musicians walk themselves on stage, whilst the camera makes a play of the conductor bowing and picking up his baton.  It's another time, ladies and gentlemen, it's another time...  So shall we get into it?

1. Yugoslavia

Conductor-watch:  An older white guy, can you believe it?  Sharp tux, severe and authoritative look.  Don Draper takes note.

Singer Ivan is a young Jeremy Beadle in a forest green suit; lapels of embroidered souvenir tea towel, with a brass broach in place of a tie. He sings an orchestral power ballad in Serbo-Croat, with a brief bit in English, whilst his three male backers, in matching jackets, crowd around one mic. It's slightly nondescript, and is greeted by polite applause from the theatre balconies – no flags, no screams and Euro-gay mosh pit.  This is wall to wall big smoothed hair, false eyelashes and evening gowns, peppered by a tuxedo or two.  To put that in context, I wore Primark and daps to Dusseldorf 2011.

2. Luxembourg

Conductor-watch: grey-rimmed, darkened aviator shades – I can see where Elliot Gould in Ocean's 11 got his specs' inspo.  I also like how the conductors shake hands as one leaves and the other comes in and it's got that vibe of football managers saluting each other at the start of a game – there's a whole powerplay subtext going on there.

We've another solo male singer, Romuald, who gives us a folksy waltz. His suit is a light grey variation on Ivan's green, with dark grey piping.  His hair has a slight bouffe about it - remember the time when both hairspray sales and the ozone layer were healthy?  His song is called "Catherine" – so you can imagine my excitement. I've now featured TWICE at Eurovision.  Shame the song is a bit of a snore.

In a suggestion this was received slightly better than Yugoslavia, we get polite applause from the stalls – where a little more money has been spent on the seats and the dresses, and this absolute legend shows you how to work a camera.

3. Spain

Conductor-watch: it might be the same conductor or it might just be the same shades.

Anyway, this is where things get interesting, because we welcome Salomé and we hail her as our leader. She rocks up in a tight powder blue fringed catsuit with bejewelled collar and mini beehive, launches into a upbeat jaunty number and dances that fringe like no-one's business – even though it was AGAINST THE RULES TO DANCE then. Madness. But it's also a crime not to dance when you're wearing fringing, so what was Sal to do?

4. Monaco

Conductor-watch: straight out of Peanuts.

From afar, the singer looks like a Thunderbird in an azure suit, but on closer inspection... it's an child.  I don't agree with that sort of thing, I'm afraid: no kids on Eurovision and no kids on Strictly, that's my rule.  (Though I did enjoy Jean Jacques' Wikipedia entry, recreated here in full: "He represented Monaco in the Eurovision Song Contest 1969 with the song "Maman, Maman", at the time just 13 years old. With 11 points, he came in 6th position. Now he works as a coach in the local rugby team.")

5. Ireland

Conductor-watch: deffo a different one, as the darkened shades are a slightly different shape.

Yer wan has gone full EIRE throttle in a short emerald green dress decorated with a glitter crucifix. I say dress, but it skims the edge of her Dublins and the look is essentially green triangle plus legs. Meanwhile, her backers have to wear puffy lilac tops tucked into full length lawn coloured kilts – it's straight out of the Bridezilla wedding play book, where you sacrifice the bridesmaids' fashion so as not to upstage the bride. The song? Oh yeah, the song. It's a sixties girl group pop ditty. But let's be clear – 1969 Eurovision is very much about the frocks.

6. Italy

Conductor-watch: doesn't look directly at the camera, so either he's used to classical and embarrassed to be here, or he's hiding something. I don't suggest we dwell.

Songwise, we're back to ballad, with a catchy string riff, performed by an Italian lovely in elegant grey sparkling evening gown, with under-boob rhinestone belt and giant plait – yup, the decade where even hair tied back is backcombed to eternity.

7. United Kingdom

Conductor-watch: Paul Weller, pretending he's too cool for this, which he CLEARLY isn't.

And here she is – Boom Bang a Banging Lulu, in fuchsia mini-dress with floral bib and cuffs, and appliqué flowers scattered on the edge.  You know the one - you've seen this on every Eurovision preview, just before Bucks Fizz lose their skirts and we're told how we get nul points cause everyone hates us, and not cause we pump out musical beige to the contest.  Aesthetically, the UK is channelling less of the swinging sixties elegant chic and more of a saucy Carry On vibe.  Lulu's camera flirting is turned up to 11, all big winks and faux-innocent pouts. As a pop hit, it's no Shout, but she's a consummate pro.

8. Netherlands

Conductor-watch: more older white guy, more giant specs.

The thing about the ongoing Spanish commentary, when you don't speak Spanish, is that you hear “murmur murmur murmur thththth” then a word you recognise, and that word here is “Troubadour” - and that there reference is a Eurovision classic.  (You might remember it recently showcased above a roof in Rotterdam, just before some Finnish people dressed as monsters played their guitars and we strapped in to watch some beautiful Italian rockers slash Vogue models not snort coke off a table.)  Singer Lenny Kuhr, then 19 (now 71 and genuinely more beautiful than ever) rocks up calmly and understated, in long red dress and hippy hair.  She strums her guitar and smashes it - not literally you understand (if dancing was banned, I can't see destroying a musical instrument passing muster).  I mean her singer-songwriter-y performance: smooth and passionate.  Though some might struggle with the harder-on-the-ear, phlegmesque sounds forced by the Dutch language.

9. Sweden

Conductor-watch: mustard ribbon bow tie.

Very slight indie vibe; singer man is in a tux, but it's only cause he HAS to be - his natural home is clearly a tight open shirt, bum clinging jeans and bedhead tousled hair.  But this is Eurovision, and it's not so indie as to avoid a wink to the camera, an obvious key change, or the use of an anti-static hair brush -  with mixed results, I might add.  A bit like when my children were in need of a professional haircut and I brushed it all down as best I could, but the inevitable result was two shiny helmet heads.

10. Belgium

Conductor-watch: same big shades but here's the twist - no pervy sunglasses tint.

Our Belgian singer man starts offstage and saunters on!  What a rebel.  It's a good start, with the exciting stroll on and a cracking intro full of funky brass.  Then... accountant sings dirge.  Mind you, on closer inspection, that navy suit is quite sharply cut, his handkerchief nattily matches his tie, and he's got some rather sharp cheekbones under those sideburns. It even picks up with a hint of illegal dance (dad swaying), and I'll concede the chorus is rather catchy, even if there's something of the Vic Reeves pub singing about his facial expressions.

11. Switzerland

Conductor-watch: mafia boss

Sixties Cheryl in white and red polka mini number with gauze billowing sleeves. From what I can tell the lyrics are different ways of saying hello in various languages – the Swiss making full use of having several home languages they can sing in.

12. Norway

Conductor-watch: Bond villain (but, like, second in command).

Kellie Bright in long navy dress, with big white cuffs and sailor-style giant pointed collars, decorated with polystyrene shavings.  But !!!OMG STOP THE PRESS!!!  It's not a long dress, it's a flared jumpsuit!  Hell yaas Norweigan QWEEN.  Song-wise, it's yet another female-fronted jaunty pop number – so basically, polite upbeat pop with a smiling beauty at the helm was the gateway musical style for the grinding, pelvic, five women do a dance routine swishing hair and humping the floor, high NRG lady banger of our own era. 

12. Germany

Conductor-watch: nothing of note.

Guten Tag, mumsy pink M&S tunic and snug flamingo slacks, flared over clunky heels with covered buckle. Very mother-in-law at the wedding, a few Proseccos in, hitting the karaoke for a super catchy pop tune about a ballerina (except there is no karaoke at the wedding). 100% here for this.

13. France

Conductor-watch: truthfully I have stopped watching the conductors. Diversity in action, Eurovision 1969 is not.

What looks at first like an innocent mustard top and long black skirt turns out to be a bodice made of golden chains sown on to the boobs – TRES BIEN, Frida Boccara, who is a small brunette knocking out a warbly ballad with a great big voice. Some excellent use of orchestral strings, because there is a whole orchestra there, after all - so why not aim for the show-stopping number at the climax of a musical.

14. Portugal

Conductor-watch: Vince Vaughan is conducting this one, I see.

Readers, I've found my fave!  And she's a lady with lengthy green sleeves wafting to the ankles, in green fitted chiffon over green slinky vest top with long green flared skirt falling the floor.  All matched by humongous gold earrings accessories of dreams.  Her backing singers have a similar thing in maroon, but less floaty and less cool, and also she's got herself a man with a balalaika on a chair - this is throwing the kitchen sink stuff by 1969 standards, down to the emotive song full of tempo changes and lalalalas.  Bravo Simone!

15. Finland

Conductor-watch: I assume there was one.

I got distracted as we have a duo on stage!  Everyone else has been a solo singer with a few backers sat to the left, but these guys are sharing a microphone - though he seems far happier about that than she does. It starts with her inexplicably giving him a boater to wear, and they stand there in matching black suits – hers has a necklace, and his has... well, there's that hat. It's tuneless and weird and he's a getting little to close to her face and oh, look, he seems to be holding a cane!  Was that always there?  And they've now stopped to do a half-hearted Charleston interlude and cane twirling, and then back to the shared mic.  Oke doke. Keep it strange, Finland.

*        *        *        *

And that's it. That's... it?!?! I mean, we're less than an hour in, and it's already time to vote?  No filler?  No recaps?  No complicated phoning and texting information and a plug for the Eurovision app/TikTok?  Consider my mind boggled.

Happily we do move into more familiar pastures - an interval film - random and confusing to original and modern viewers alike.  It's theremin-led experimental jazz and jump cut wonky pics of Spain's most touristy spots.   Avant-garde themed GCSE art meets Insta story, but in the early days before they added filters.

Back in the room, the weird film is greeted by total silence, then we're back to presenter Laurita for the voting.  Oh goody - my favourite bit!  Except... no, not this time.  The voting takes place in front of a DIY solari board and is wholly underwhelming.  There's no technical issues (booooo), no cutaways to inebriated contestants making the phone hand sign, no wacky local presenters showing off with mind xenophobia or shouts of “douze points”, indeed no ability to dish out douze points in the first place 

(Scoring sidebar: from what I understand, the countries have up to 10 points they get to dish out in any way they see fit – so Italy could give Luxembourg seven points and Yugoslavia three, and no-one else get a thing, or Switzerland could give almost each country just one point.  So there you go - and stay tuned for why this is madness.)  

The voting is all done and dusted in 15 minutes with no real tension until the end when... DUN DUN DAAAAAN - the result is (famously) revealed to be a four way tie!  

The audience gasps and Laurita looks concerned and tries to surreptitiously ask the exec producer/head judge, erm, what the fuck do I do now? She is entirely left in the lurch by the Jan Ola Sand of 1969 Eurovision, who styles it out and pretends it's not a nightmare scenario they should have absolutely envisaged when they designed the scoring.  He shrugs and replies “Well there are four winners" - subtext: over to you, presenter lady, to sort out your live TV broadcast beaming to Europe and beyond.

But, in the end - that man speaketh the truth.  There are four winners: Spain (the real winner in my eyes), the UK (the recognised winner in any UK history of the contest), the Netherlands (the muso winner) and France (the big voice winner). The four female solo artist winners are each presented a medal by last year's winner, a perfect Spanish diva in a white, gold and fur striped coat-dress, with golden croupier bands, bustier and black tights for trousers. The whole medal ceremony is full of confusion and hilarity, then one by one all four women get to reprise their winning turn and all four songs absolutely stand up to the win.  My only critique is that it should have been a five-way split with Portugal.

Oh guys, it was amazing - what an era for fashion and pop.  All that's left is for the cameras to pan to a man in the audience covering his face with a silver handbag, as he's clearly not where he told his wife he was going to be, and for the credits to roll, revealing that actual Salvador Dali did some of the artwork.  Well I assume that's what “cartel original de Salvador Dali” means.  I guess he might have been the vision mixer.

Eurovision Again happens once a month, and I'm booking in the next one (17 July). Where are we time travelling to next?

Rotterdam 2021 - Semi Final #2 (SPEED BLOG)

No time to go on at length tonight - blame my children and my decision to drink wine with friends on Friday.  Please enjoy this speed blog placeholder instead of my usual droning on.

San Marino

Flo Rida flew over to guest on this banger, but the real star is lady singer Senhit's triangular hair, and her romantic poet come ninja dancers. Also, rotating stage.

In or out? Ticket to the final.

Estonia

Forgettable if not uncatchy ballad from extremely handsome man in caj tuxwear.

In or out? Songs second in the running order are doomed to fail at the best of times and no-one is *that* good-looking.

Czech Republic

My notes (AKA the Eurovision group chat) just say “I like Benny”. He wore a sparkly jacket I think? This was... nice...?

In or out? No go – as unmemorable for the rest of Europe.

Greece

Greek girl banger – what else?  Inexplicably backed by early MTV special effects rather than the tried and tested line dance in white mini dresses.

In or out? Delighted that Cyprus and Greece can hand each other the twelve.

Austria

There were two big old gospelly ballads called Amen this year – this is the boy one.

In or out? Neither got through.

Poland

Highly agreeable eighties electro from Poland's answer to Ben Shepherd. White suits and camping lights-ography.

In or out? Denied – I'm raging.

Moldova

Traditional Euro-banging from Moldova, who usually bring us the kerazee - so highly sedate stuff in the grand scheme, but jaunty and energetic nonetheless. Think Elizabeth Banks in a skater dress.

In or out? A slightly lucky pass to the final, but no complaints here.

Iceland

Wonderful Dadi and Gagnamagnio deserve way more than a speed blog, but you know the drill from last year - TikTok trends, teal sweatshirts, silly-cool dance moves and a disco tune borrowed from Nile Rogers (but who else is it worth borrowing from?)  A cut above.

In or out? Thankfully through

Serbia

Three lovelies with the entire branch of Croydon Superdrug dumped on their faces bringing it large with a cracking Euro-banger.

In or out? This would be a tacky hot mess in English - but it's in Serbian, so class ahoy.

Georgia

Serious man with dark big voice doing dirgy ballad. (According to the chat “I don't hate it. It's Blur album-track-esque, but sung by someone who might also be having a poo”.)

In or out? I don't think he wanted to win if I'm honest.

Albania

Red lights, smoke and big old panpipe action. A rare 2021 lady ballad.

In or out? She made it through - wildcard.

Portugal

Proper muso guitar band *ROLLS EYES* – except it's total fromage throughout. I did enjoy the guitar solo mime though – he didn't even pick the instrument up fully and I'm fairly sure he was chuckling to himself about it.

In or out? In - Europe blinded by fake axe work and mansplaining.

Bulgaria

Earnest singer does pretty ditty in a minor key sitting on giant rock.

In or out? In – the bookies have long since rated it. I found it yawnsome.

Finland

No-one asked for a nu-metal revival, and yet here we are.

In or out? Seemingly Europe *has* asked for a nu-metal revival.

Latvia

It's about a thousand musical styles, none of which go together, but my main gripe is that the singer and dancer are wearing two ever so slightly different shades of green - both of which I like, but which don't quite match up.  Green Energy and Resplendent Emerald I'd wager.

In or out? Out I'm afraid.

Switzerland

His outfit is an unflattering Pat Butcher blouse shocker but his voice was bang on – melancholy quirky slow number.

In or out? Solid jury vote vibes – see you samedi.

Denmark

Perfect Schlager triumph so good I couldn't believe it was performed by two Gen Zers, rather than their fifty-something dads.  It's feely-est of all feel good feel goodness. 

In or out? OUT!?!!!?!?!?  Nooooooooo! I'm still utterly furious that Europe denied us another outing of this solid gold cracker. You've only hurt yourselves you know. I will console myself thusly...

Rotterdam 2021 - the one that was - Semi Final #1

It's been two years guys, TWO YEARS. The cancellation of Rotterdam 2020 was the moment I started to begin to understand what a global pandemic might actually mean and even then I was some way off.  What a time we’re living through, eh?  What a flippin’ time. And yet, here we are – about to power up the trumpets and let Ode To Joy ring out.

It's a slightly different affair this year – reduced crowd, local and COVID tested, and there's the peril that, at any moment, one of our performers might start to feel throaty, sprint to their hotel room to shove a cotton bud up their nostril and be forced to self-isolate – swapping the big stage for tearful Insta stories and feeling justifiably sorry for themselves. But for semi final #1, all the acts, bar one, were present and correct. Well, as correct as you'd expect for Eurovision. And how correct is that? People of Europe - let's find out!

Lithuania
How else to open the show but with a stripped back, electro-number performed by a deep-voiced, loose-hipped gentleman in a natty yellow Hillary pantsuit, ably backed by band and dancemates, also in head to toe canary, doing a routine somewhere between finger puppetry, spin class, and Peter Crouch goal celebration. It's knowing and excellent and could not have been a better start to the show.
 
Did this make it? Taip, which Google tells me is yes in Lithuanian.
Are we surprised? It's a bloody strong field tonight, but it would have been a travesty to lose this.
 
Slovenia
Such is my good mood, I was well into this classic lady ballad, which instantly ticked off many EV staples: foreign language, key change, white suit, shoulder cape - even if it didn't go as hard on the wind machine as it clearly should. But in the spirit of Trinny and Susannah, I'm also going to gently suggest there would have been no harm in singer Ana - a slim lady, let me stress - going up a size on the trousers. There’s no greater 2021 fashion trend than the elasticated waist; we've all known the lure of the snack cupboard in lockdown, and no-one’s judging a stockpile anymore. 
 
Did this make it?  It did not.
Are we surprised? Maybe a smidgen. I'd not clocked it in previews, but I liked it way more than the usual ballad fare.
 
Russia
Russian Grannies Missy Elliot mash-up, if Missy were a charismatic young woman from Tajikistan.  Singer Manizha performs most of this in a red boiler suit - more 2021 vibes; comfort über alles. But she’s not eschewed style and glam – she kicks off in a giant Russian doll outfit, spinning like a dalek and sporting a turban slash bow sufficiently large to remain airborne or please Esme from Sewing Bee.  She gurn-shout-raps in Russian over a catchy industrial honky tonk brass hook, with a brief bypass through monastic wailing, inspirational Facebook slogans and Russian orthodox iconography. It slightly reminds me of The Great and is similarly well named. 
 
Did this make it? Da!
Are we surprised? Not da! (I can't remember the Russian for no.)
 
Sweden
Slick and catchy tune with nice anthemic chorus, but this is phoned in by Swedish standards. Tussé, our smiley man singer, dons a scarlet kimono suit and fingerless evening gloves bedecked with gold palm leaves, which looks sensational and comfy.  He seems an absolute delight, but his voice was highly iffy at times - the key change was a particular ouchie moment.  A continent winced in unison – which can’t be good.
 
Did this make it? Oui monsieur. Tussé gets a second go at the vocals.
Are we surprised? I think this has sneaked in on Swedish reputation (even though Euphoria is nearly a decade old, what the fffff).
 
Australia
Australia had to pre-record this quirky pop performance and send a video tape to the organisers in one of those padded envelopes because somehow (SOMEHOW) travelling to Eurovision isn’t considered essential travel.  (I know!  Anyone got a Change.org account where we can take this up?)  Songstress Montaigne must be well bummed not to be here - indeed let's all take a moment to reflect on a generation of lost Antipodeans who won’t experience the joys of communal living in Clapham, drinking at Walkabout and taking the Eurolines coach for some Amsterdamage.  Montaigne is in PVC era Janet Jackson, with vajazzled face and shaved head with Crayola frosting.  Performance-wise, let’s call it a tough sing – not helped by an awkward dance routine which involves some ungainly karate kicks and group high-fives.  Just let this lovely baby adult sing her song in actual Europe, guys - twenty-somethings may not have had to home-school their children, but my Gawd the lockdown must have been tough on those at the height of their hormones.
 
Did this make it?  No
Are we surprised? The performance wasn't up to it, IMO.
 
North Macedonia
You know the drill – another ballad another shoulder cape; this time in black and man-fronted.  It's pure Disney and after two years clean, I couldn't help but love me some unabashed Eurovij musical theatre – especially when singer Vasil ripped open his dinner jacket to reveal a thermal vest made of disco ball.  What commitment to the theme.
 
Did this make it? I wondered whether the jury vote might carry this through, but no cigar.
Are we surprised? Not massively, seeing as tonight is banger central.
 
Ireland
Perfect example of just too much going on – the staging here was a complex mix of running machine, papier maché and giant flip books, choreo-ed down to the mini-second.  You could sense singer Lesley mentally counting the beat and anticipating her cues, rather than focusing on the old singing bit.  Going OTT is usually no bad thing at Eurovision, and might total sense if the song was similarly intricate, but Maps is made for a drunken singalong – we can all appreciate the need to show off lockdown crafting output, but a wind machine, stock computer images of Irish greenery and a bit of simple jumping in the chorus would have been more than enough.
 
Did this make it?  No
Are we surprised?  No
 
Cyprus
Banger battle: contestant number 1.  Strap in lads, cause we’re about to see a series of dancefloor fillers performed by five lovelies in a line.  Derivative?  Sure!  But who cares - we live for Textbook Eurovision.  Once again, Cyprus have picked an über-famous pop queen (Beyoncé swapped out for Gaga this year) and used her back catalogue as the obvious reference for some joyful dance-pop.  This variation goes hard on theme (red lights/shagging the devil), dance (a particularly crotch-based routine), and outfit (a silver chain outfit Ola Jordan might think was a little revealing).  Ding ding ding.  Greece don’t need to worry about where they’ll place their douze.
 
Did this make it?  Banger battle victor.
Are we surprised?  Let’s put it this way - Fuego’s slightly less attractive sibling is still mighty good-looking.
 
Norway
I can’t entirely tell if this is a piss-take or not, but either way, I can’t move past the dirge.  Young Axl Rose in Lennon specs, dressed as an angel in chains doing noughties boyband fare – I‘m told there’s what sounds like a moving backstory about tourettes and mental health, but on some level this is a song contest, and I did not care for the song.  (“On some level this is a song contest” - hahahahahaetc)
 
Did this make it?  Yes
Are we surprised?  I was - but the bookies weren't.
 
Croatia
Banger battle: contestant number 2.  Much the same as Cyprus except the rumba chain dress is replaced by a super trooper space leotard and the back-up ladies are Mad Max beefcakes in tinfoil and chaps.  
 
Did this make it?  Europe thought it more fizzle than bang.
Are we surprised?  It wasn’t the best of the hi-NRG bunch, but it was definitely better than Norway.
 
Belgium
Moorcheeba-y trip-hop veering near Beige, but ending up not too far from Atmospheric.  There’s limited charisma from the band and it’s all very perfunctory, but these are seasoned veterans, who benefit from offering up a slow-paced banger break.  Twitter offered up my favourite analysis: "Loving this vengeful first wife vibe from Belgium". They've argued over her favourite Johnny Cash t-shirt apparently, though we all know the divorce was really over who stacks the dishwasher properly.

Did this make it? Oui!
Are we surprised? Très, though not unpleasantly.
 
Israel
Banger battle: contestant number 3 – though it’s perhaps more funky and poppy than the in your face bops that have come before - and the dancing is more circle formation than line.  Singer Eden has styled her dreads into a geometrical desk toy and her male dancers leap around in flopping braces, eyes more for each other than her, but she doesn't seem to care.  It’s almost clinical in its slickness, but there’s no question that a solid pop performance will appeal to juries and voters. 
 
Did this make it?  Yes, and I’ll be happy to hear it again.
Are we surprised?  Some find it hard to separate the artist and country and I think that’s fair enough.  Eurovision might seek to be apolitical, but whenever has anything been as simple as that?
 
Romania
Oh gawd, it’s Gen Z experimental theatre, with a smoke machine budget.  There’s lots of emoting and angst from lovely Roxen in a little-girl-in-itchy-party-dress chic, and the routine is 93% trust exercises - sadly no-one gets dropped.  It’s valiantly performed and better sung than some of the other efforts, but ultimately I remained unmoved, and my main recollection is that “self-love amnesia” sounds like a bad Google translation for "secretly masturbating".
 
Did this make it?  No
Are we surprised? It’s the kind of thing Europe sometimes goes nuts for, so maybe a little.
 
Azerbaijan
Banger battle: contestant number 4 - my favourite of the lot. Last year, beacon of gorgeousness Efendi put out one of my stone cold Eurovision favourites – a historically accurate (I assume) raucous pop song about Cleopatra interspersed by some ancient mystical chanting and impressive rolling RRRRRRs.  This year, she’s done the same thing, but 2021’s school lesson is about sexy Dutch spy Mata Hari.  It’s carrying a fair amount of Cleopatra goodwill, but it’s got all the necessary elements of the checklist: hair swishing, line dancing, ethno panpipes, sexy friends in black lingerie (if chiffon cycling shorts count), lots of heavy breathing, and the creeping sensation that the singing is being predominantly carried by a sixth off-stage performer.

 
Did this make it?  She bangs, she bangs.
Are we surprised?  Deffo good enough to deserve a Saturday place.

Ukraine
Sour-faced cheekbone queen in emerald muppet coat repeatedly deadpans one nasal note as a folkloric industrial beat gets steadily faster and faster. Meanwhile, her band mates – including a butch guy on a recorder – mosh with fury and play instruments submerged in a fake white forest, and her dance mates fling around some Influencer ring lights. AN ABSOLUTE TRIUMPH.
 
Did this make it?  They announced them last and my heart was in my throat.
Are we surprised?  Favourite of the night.  (Cheryl Baker had the gall to call this pitchy, why I oughta…)

Malta
Destiny has already won (Junior) Eurovision and you can see why – girl’s got pipes.  This is technically banger battle: contestant number 5, but her voice is on another dimension compared to the rest of the Euro divas, truth be told.  This is effortless powerhouse stuff (even if I secretly prefer the chiffon cycling shorts/history lesson from Efendi Azerbaijan).  Destiny's dancing is more hinted at than actually performed – there’s a lot of pouting and hand waving, alongside a brief cancan, but she still makes full use of being dressed head to toe in silver - all shimmy-worthy spangles and wide-angled waders.  Whilst the song is a thinly veiled excuse for a pun about swearing, it’s also a joyful ode to body positivity and super catchy to (thigh-high) boot.  I'm always going to enjoy a singer who successfully rhymes “money” and “dummy”. 

Did this make it?  Yes
Are we surprised?  No – worthy bookie favourite

All in all, a fair bunch through - no big surprises either making it or breaking it, my own personal feelings for Norway aside. This was a vintage crop though and it's still excitingly anyone's game - maybe there's a case for a fallow year... (NOOOOOO!). Thursday's bunch are going to offer up a more mixed bag I think, but still - ISN'T IT GOOD TO BE BACK! See you soon - and keep washing those hands in the meantime. The world isn't quite Euroclub ready in practice, even though the spirit is firmly back in the room.

Rotterdam 2020 - the one that wasn't - Semi Final #2

Back once again for spin through the songs Europe has selected as its very finest (laughs uncontrollably).  It’s semi-final 2, there’s still no voting, and you’re in for a treat, if you like pre-recorded, heavily-filtered video footage of handsome men droning ballads and young women, pelvic-thrusting in their pants in time to heavily back-tracked electronic music.

Please brace yourselves for a middle-aged woman getting increasingly grumpy about the lack of practical clothing the young ones insist on, before swooning, somewhat embarrassingly, at some handsome men.  Off we go!

Greece

Superg!rl by Stefania

I'm just going to skip over that exclamation mark.  So, we are looking at a very literal interpretation of the song’s title here; Stefania, it turns out, has ACTUAL super powers, which she likes to use for good at her American Teen Movie High School (Athens, Georgia, I assume).  Firstly, Stefania avenges a hot geek she fancies by humiliating his bully.  Then, when a student recklessly discards a banana by throwing it over their shoulder into a busy corridor, Stefania stops a lesser pretty girl from slipping on it.  Let's leave aside my concerns about the leadership team's action on behaviour management, and return to Stefania, who - IMPORTANT PLOT POINT - is VERY SHY.  So when her magic powers are outed during banana-gate and she is suddenly confronted with a million school teens thrusting their phones in her face to get blurry TikTok footage, so she runs away to cry many superhero tears.  Fortunately - yes, the roller coaster continues - Hot Geek is there to comfort poor Stefania, and they stare intensely at each other in a park, looking sad and not snogging, until - no this isn't over yet - there is a SUDDEN EMERGENCY!  An orange cat is stuck up a tree and a concerned crowd is gathering!  (Yup, that's the emergency, don't @ me.)  What to do?  Stefania is unsure – there are so many camera phones around!  Should she reveal her powers to rescue the cat?  Fortunately, Hot Geek gives her an encouraging manly nod, and she decides to do the right thing by pussy.  She flies up, saves the animal (which like all cats couldn’t give a measly shit – full respect to you and your species, Mr Whispers)  and hands it to Hot Geek before they stare intensely at each other some more.  What an inspirational tale.   The song is dross by the way, which is a crying shame, given this is Greek Eurovision.

How would this have done live on the night?  Stefania can barely sing with the benefit of heavy production and auto-tune, so there would be a lot riding on the dance routine.

Estonia

What Love Is by Uku Suviste

Really Estonia, you’re providing us with another very tall, very hot, very Estonian man?  This is getting embarrassing now.  Oh actually, on closer inspection, Uku’s sexy stubble is more likely the product of over-partying and a few too many late-night kebabs; he looks hungover to fuck, as he sings in a warehouse, with a wispy old bit of spider’s web hanging from his mic and the letters L O V E propped up against the Goods-In door.  This is all rather slow, and then the bass kicks in and there’s suddenly a billion candles in the warehouse.  By verse three, they’ve added a smoke machine.  I didn’t notice a key-change, but that would be the holy triumvirate of fire/smoke/modulation, so I’m going to say there that yes, there definitely was one.

How would this have done live on the night?  Well I didn’t hate it, for a slow one.  If Uku lays off the booze and finds a good Tallin tailor, we might be on to something.

Austria

Alive by Vincent Bueno

Another hot man, another empty warehouse; Vincent has had fewer late nights though – his cheekbones are extremely prominent and he’s not had to grow any stubble to cover a sagging kebab chin (yes, Uku, it’s your way I’m throwing that chin(s) shade).   The song is a falsetto-y Justin Trousersnake B-side, which is fine if that’s your thing but it’s not my thing because my thing has been to never really like the thing that is pop phenomenon Justin Trousersnake.  

How would this have done live on the night?  Highly rehearsed, very clinical and all the dullness that comes with being over-prepared. 

Moldova

Prison by Natalia Gordienko

Natalia is a stone cold fox, in a tight red dress, being photographed by an equally attractive man in a suit, whilst she sings – very effectively – and smoulders at the camera in an extremely dimly lit photo studio, which I fear may not produce the greatest of quality shots.  But worry not, as Natalia can also smoulder-sing outside, both by day, in a scrubby wasteland, and by night, in a valley above the city, where she’s somehow managed to source and plug in five chintzy lampshades.  This is perfume ad meets power ballad meets famous blond models of the 1980s, so has gone in a direction I am completely unwilling to criticise.  

How would this have done live on the night?  If she’d sold this like the pouty lampshade scenes, there was high potential.  I do miss the Moldovan crazy though; we’re quite some way from Epic Sax Guy.

San Marino

Freaky! By Senhit

Did I say I missed crazy?  Just let me reel back a thousand paces, eh?  The benefit of Semi Final 1 was that we actually had quite a few live performances to watch.  This is now the fifth pre-recorded video in a row, and if I wanted to watch back-to-back music videos from central European popstars I’ve never heard of, then I’d be streaming MTV Lichtenstein of an evening, rather than watching The Great British Throw Down.  (As if I know how to stream!  I’m the wrong side of 40!)   This is uptempo bonkers disco pop – of course it is, it’s San Marino - and it’s called 'Freaky!' (With! An! Exclamation! Mark!)  It was probably intended to come across as hilariously mad and inventive, but in truth it’s an exhausting series of jump-cuts through incoherent dance scenes and psychedelic video graphics – there’s Senhit dressed as a ring master, there’s Senhit writhing with her dancers in a sauna, now Senhit is prancing around a middle finger made of porcelain reminiscent of a giant Victorian dildo, now she’s sitting in a big white face/chair, now she's...  Is it over yet?  Nope. Disco balls!  Space rave!  Glittered gimp mask! Cat o’nine tails!  Bad Vogue! And snogging.  So much snogging.  I don’t need to see so much twenty-something saliva.  I’m a very tired mum of two.

How would this have done live on the night?  Sorry to be grumpy, I’m just missing real Eurovision.  Live on the night, this would have been a deluge of tacky disco shit and I'd have bloody loved it.

Czech Republic

Kemama by Benni Christo

Another semi-final, another afro-beat offering! Who knew? It's not an immediate association I’d have made with the Czech Republic, but that, my friends, is on me.  To be fair, the CR are carving out a niche for light catchy pop performed by younger gentlemen probably slightly too cool for the traditional boy band trajectory (but not too cool for EV - lolz emoji).  Benni and his friends are 'Skins: Czech edition' - colourful hair, tattoos, piercings, quirkily attractive, and looking for a good time in a slightly shady suburb.  They all wear excessively oversized coats, which they are forced to strip off once they arrive at a house party with working central heating - indeed they’re all down to vest and pants within moments of the stereo being turned up in the living room.  Lack of layers, kids, that’s what your problem is.  And what’s wrong with a foldaway anorak anyway? 

How would this have done live on the night?  What’s the Czech for ‘promises something different, ultimately very bland’?

Serbia

Hasta La Vista by Hurricane

"Budget Pussycat Dolls" said Mr Cad, as he passed by the livestream – this is a generous take, but did make me rethink the ethics of typing out 'Prostitute Pop'.  I welcome you all to a steady stream of girl band gyration, PVC knickers, hair flicks, unnecessary collagen, grating auto-tune, glow-in-the-dark eye-shadow and unlistenable hi-NRG dance pop.  So far, so familiar, but there’s a fine line between gloriously bathing in gold glitter in a bath dressed as Cleopatra and because fabulous, and looking a bit tacky and sad and *entirely* designed for the male gaze, - and falls the wrong side.  Don’t ask me why, people, I’ve never claimed to be consistent in my feminism.  BRB, just googling glow-in-the-dark eye-shadow.

How would this have done live on the night?  One hot, tacky, Botox-ed, embarrassing, mess.

Poland

Empires by Alicja

At least Alicja hasn’t destroyed her young beautiful face with premature surgery (yes, Serbia, looking at you three) and she’s got a pretty good voice.  It’s essentially another Bond theme – Conchita’s legacy sneaking in this year.  But this is much better than Belgium – mainly as they’ve replaced a big-haired man-orchestra with stock footage of fire, wind and, um, flooding...?

How would this have done live on the night?  I’d have been rooting for you Alicja – I don’t loathe *all* the ballads.

Iceland

Think About Things by Daði og Gagnamagnið

This is the one you’ve probably seen on social media – Daði Freyr has, quite rightly, become a Twitter darling for all the content he’s pumped out and inspired.  And even though the official video is genuinely excellent, we’re getting a live performance here – so props and then some.  The live performance is as funny, inventive, hipster, low-key and enjoyable as the video – both well worth an actual watch.  Look out for teal jumpsuits, eighties computer graphics, homemade key-tars and a dance routine involving side-stepping and bum wiggling, which we’ll all be emulating regardless of wider demographic.  And a catchy pop tune – like Hot Chip* searching out some actual radio play.  

How would this have done live on the night?  Triumphant.  God I needed that.  Reykjavik 2021 was robbed.

NB: For further information about the real standout star here (the ‘ð’ sound), you may wish to peruse: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eth

(*UPDATE: I wrote the Hot Chip reference before discovering that Hot Chip have actually done a remix of TAT, which is a definitely less good (albeit not entirely tedious) literal demonstration of my point.  That the link is on a blog called 'Brooklyn Vegan' is *kisses fingers*)

Switzerland

Répondez-moi by Gjon's Tears

Chanson francaise!  Well, Suisse anyway.  I don't know why Gjon is crying, but he's produced a moody, slow, emo-electro number, which is perfectly fine, if slightly unexciting.  Ha – it’s tickled me to find myself so decidedly neutral about this year’s Swiss entry.

How would this have done live on the night?  In the context of tonight’s generally mediocre offerings (not you Daði), I’m on the plus side of neutral.

* * *

At this point in proceedings there’s a bit where we are treated to seeing some of the artists in their homes for reasons utterly beyond me but where I obviously watch each promo in full.  First up, our Swiss man who (strategically and not so neutrally) goes through his record collection and his love for Russian music.  Then Stefania Greece describes her favourite hologram dress at great length - nice to see her keeping it all about the music.  Senhat San Marino talks about her dog who is “literally my friend” and we learn lots of very interesting things like that he is often dog-sat by her sister and that if he’s in a bad mood he requires food and then it transpires she just ‘happened’ to name her Italian tour after her dog so hello opportunity to plug a few nightclub appearances to an audience a few million times the size of San Marino (I am definitely warming to Senhat).  Next is Tom Leeb of France who wow he is pretty, I mean quite seriously pretty, have you seen his face because that is quite the pretty oh hang on he’s going on about all his guitars yup still banging on about guitars ok he is currently naming them by brand and number shall we zzzzzzz what god gives with one hand etc.

And what did the UK offer in all this: James Newman, a not petite man, demonstrating in full fluent Northern how to cook bacon and eggs.  Firstly, eggs are almost impossible to buy right now James, so have some respect, and secondly, did you think about how interested the rest of Europe might be in Ready Steady Cook the Eurovision edition?  To be honest, if the viewing public outside of the UK understood even 10% of it (that’s the bit where he shows us eggs and says they are eggs), then they’ll have done very well.

*  *  *

Denmark

YES by Ben & Tan

Youngish boy-girl duet, which has something of the Mumford and Sons about it and which I secretly like a lot, even if Tan does have half a bra and her thighs on show in strappy high heeled boots and a deconstructed mini dress, whilst Ben is in full turtle neck, jacket and guitar, cause ain’t no-one catching a glimpse of his M&S cupsize.  Pfffffff.

How would this have done live on the night?  Extra tick to Denmark for offering up the recording of a live performance – competent and enjoyable, if unremarkable.

Albania

Fall From The Sky by Arilena Ara

A big ballad from a small young woman.  Arilena can be found sitting on a white piano, then stroking the keys of a white piano, then standing in front of a white piano, then looming on top of a white piano – are you sensing a theme?  Well time to move on, because we’re now under a big fake tree painted in Tippex, the likes of which you’d see in a rando room of Tate Modern and/or the window display of an upmarket high street clothes shop.  Arilena is now in a giant birdcage (white, obvz), then back under her tree, then back on her piano and before we think of any other big white structures to place her in, the three minutes are up and we’re done.   

How would this have done live on the night?  I’m predicting cage, piano AND tree on stage, which is fine and workable - but Arilena have had to pick between one of her many pristine white outfit changes (would she go dress, or tracksuit, or a third outfit I’ve already forgotten).  And which of her display of noughties hair styles would make the cut? (GHD straighteners?  Croydon facelift?  Seven hours of product to get that just-out-of-bed tousled look that is actually a solid helmet of hair wax you can tap and it won’t move...?)

Finland

Looking Back by Aksel

Portly gent in shiny blue Burton suit with an admirable if futile attempt at Movember, singing a yawnsome Coldplay-style ballad.  What I imagine you’d get at a Young Conservative karaoke event towards the end of the evening when all the other Tories have compared family trees and pulled, but Aksel hasn’t made the cut.

How would this have done live on the night?  Helsinki James Corden and his blue suit are offset by simple staging (one mic and a light show), which I very much appreciate after the OTT cray cray displays we’ve been experiencing to date (not you Iceland).

Armenia

Chains On You by Athena Manoukian 

Talking of OTT cray cray displays, Armenia have splurged to make Evil Disney Queen: the High School Years; when a hypersexualised Maleficent terrorised the homeroom.  There’s no discernible tune here, just Athena in a pearl-encrusted swimming cossie and some bouffy lace shoulderpads, drawling the words ‘naughty’ and ‘diamonds’ and ‘hurt me’ (yup, ‘hurt me’) in a monotonous drawl.   

How would this have done live on the night?  *sighs* *lives in hope that the live version would have made me feel a little less old and a little less tired* 

Portugal

Medo De Sentir by Elisa

Two Portuguese lovelies, and a simple, mournful piano ballad – it’s a palate cleanser after the sex-robotic depression of ‘diamonds diamonds naughty hurt me’.  I’m also very happy about the fashion choice made by the young lead singer - polka dot blouse with oversized sleeves and 1930’s giant slacks made entirely of maroon sequins.

How would this have done live on the night?  Eliza had to strain a little, but all is forgiven by the simple sight of a woman wearing actual trousers over her knickers.

Georgia

Take Me As I Am by Tornike Kipiani

Firstly, Tornike… actually firstly, Tornike is called ‘tourniquet’.  But firstly (secondly), Tornike manages to rhyme “English man” and “Italian” and “French homme” and “German”, which means his accent is up there with Lena Satellite and this nothing short of absolutely brilliant.   And secondly (thirdly), he has an extremely strong RAWK voice and thirdly (fourthly) his female backing singer wears a VEST and JEANS.  Brooding, rocky, multilingual, appropriate clothing.   Top marks.

How would this have done live on the night?  GOOD EVENING STROBE CITY!!!!!!!!!

Bulgaria

Tears Getting Sober by VICTORIA

Why the capital letters, VICTORIA?  Do we have to shout your name? Why are you sitting on a bench looking sad? And why is the camera turning a full 360 and giving me a headache?  And just to prove that women can never get it right, VICTORIA looks a bit dull in black shirt buttoned-up to the nose and sensible school trousers, a bit 14 year old boy at a funeral.  The song is slow and gentle and not very interesting bar a little hummy bit in the middle.  Sorry VICTORIA, not one for me.

How would this have done live on the night? In its defence, there’s ample use of the smoke machine, to the extent that we can’t actually see VICTORIA’s face for a good portion of the song, which may seem a bit much, but less is never more when it comes to generating on-stage fog. 

Latvia

Still Breathing by Samanta Tīna

I was on actual Latvian TV earlier this year (for reasons I coyly won’t go into, beyond saying I hadn’t committed any Latvian crimes, because, like Stefania Greece, I have to protect my real life identity) and my interviewer was lovely, so I’m very pro-Latvia at the moment.  I’m yet to be convinced by the song (one repeated beat and high register wailing) but let’s gloss over that, because the video is something else.  We’re in high concept territory here and whilst I’m not entirely sure I get it, I can recommend the following: 

- Samanta’s giant hat

- Samanta’s army of mannequin dancers in coloured visors

- Samanta's army rocking teeny tiny pushchairs in high heels and red tights (I’m apparently over the no trousers thing now)

- Sarcastic domestic chore-ography (ironing, cooking, potato peeling, Detoxing, all the classics)

- The Dove advert approach of using ‘real’ women in lingerie (that all woman are real is besides the point, of course, as real here means not conventionally thin and just bloody make sure they are fatter than Samanta.  

- Not at all fat Samanta closes up by rejecting a carrot in favour of an entire chocolate cake which she smears over her face and is a not at all an attempt at sexy lip licking because it's a POWERFUL message that...  Um?  It’s cheat day?

How would this have done live on the night?  Well done for weirdness, well done for being Lativa and well done for making it stand out in spite of the non-descript electronica.  There’s also a rap interlude and who doesn’t want to see the likes of that live?

France (BIG 5 – free pass to the final)

Mon Alliée (The Best In Me) by Tom Leeb

Tom aime jouer de la guitare.  Tom est très beau.  Bonjour Tom, tu aimes jouer au golf et la discothèque?  Ah non, Tom aime juste les guitares.  Tom a vingt-neuf guitares.  OK, time to step away.  I think we’ve covered this already.

How would this have done live on the night?  He’s pretty, but the song is boring.  Standard Big 5 fare then.

UK (BIG 5 – free pass to the final)

My Last Breath by James Newman

There was a lot of chatter about how the UK was actually trying this year, as there's a big record company involved, and I do actually rate this song.  But I also liked Better Than Us last year, and this seems pretty similar to me - a slow-ish, catchy, Radio 2 friendly, guitar pop number, sung by a big, ever so slightly famous lad from up North.  So what do I know?  Like Jon Snow, I know nothing.  Other than it’s not an ideal year to call your song ‘My Last Breath’.

How would this have done live on the night?  In all honestly, it would get lost in the maelstrom.  Even in this year's quite shit barely-dressed pop princess and pretty man does ballad (and Icelandic genius) maelstrom.

Spain (BIG 5 – free pass to the final)

Universo by Blas Canto

Well hola Blas – are you the new Strictly pro they’re getting in to replace Kevin Clifton by any chance?  He certainly looks the part, especially when he dons a very sharp suit in red and white tiger print.   Blas is also keen to showcase his other talents (outfits); swishing a big coat, modelling a beige jacket, a cummerbund/Beauty Queen sash, rock climbing - though I’m not sure you can get a black leather faux rucksack harness and elbow glove combo at Decathlon - and leading what looks like the mass suicide of a cult.  

How would this have done live on the night?  If you could just hold off killing your disciples, Blas, and bringing a few of them – yes in their wipe-clean plastic capes and chain-mail facemasks – to dance on stage, I think you might have something.

THE END!

OMG, that’s it.  If you’ve made it this far, then… well, we’re all feeling the impact of lockdown, so that will explain the buzzing in your brain and the throbbing in your eyeballs.  Keep your hands clean and your strengths up, for who knows what Saturday will bring…  Alertness at all times and a bientot.