Wednesday, 15 May 2019

Tel Aviv 2019 - Semi Final #1


Welcome to Tel Aviv, the heart of Europe – or certainly a country with valid European Broadcasting Union membership.  We’re here because Eleni of Cyprus was 100% robbed last year, in favour of a plus-size Bjork-a-like who sang about, oh I forget - emojis and chickens and pretend swears and appropriating cultural heritage or something.  Anyway, as is traditional, 2018 winner Netta kicked things off by being birthed from a giant robot cat and screeching her way around the stage whilst one of her man dancers accidentally knocked one of his colleagues in the head.  That wouldn’t have happened on Eleni’s watch. 

Our four hosts (yes four - seems to be the unfortunate norm these days) are two impossibly beautiful women and two entirely meh looking men.  They’ll be here all week to stutter at the autocue and make jokes that don’t land, because they aren’t Petra Mede.  So I don’t propose we linger here much longer.  Let’s crack on with our 17 semi-finalists – Icelandic BDSM awaits.

1.  Cyprus      
Replay by Tamta

Tamta is Blair Waldorf with an unwashed blonde bob (an impossible plot point, I accept) in leather jacket, chandelier knickers and PVC waders with suspender belts.  It’s a look, for sure.  Our Cypriot Gossip Girl is flanked by male dancers in fancy hats, which I thought might be stetsons, but having spent a valuable few minutes googling “hat styles”, I’d place more as a fedora gaucho cross.  The song is a banger, but may I recommend the pre-recorded version.

Did this make it?  Yup.
Are we surprised?  Nope.
But will it win?  Not without a trip to vocal performance boot camp.

2. Montenegro
Heaven by D mol

The styling here is ‘promotional photograph of the cast of Friends in white suits’.  It’s the one where Monika gets a random red scarf stapled to her lapel, Ross is somewhat wider than I remembered, Joey’s t-shirt is such a deep V it’s a U, there’s considerably less ambiguity about Chandler’s sexuality, Phoebe remains typically underused and Rachel’s breasts are still very much the main focus of all proceedings.  Musically this is a saccharin Disney filler yawnfest.  Certainly no Smelly Cat.

Did this make it?  Nope.
Are we surprised?  Nope.
                       
3. Finland     
Look Away by Darude feat. Sebastian Rejman  

Yes, Darude!  Yes, Darude who you’ve actually heard of!  Yes, Darude of Sandstorm by Darude fame!  Yes, that techno-y song that goes duh duh duh duh-duh (pause) duh duh duh duh-duh (pause) duh duh duh duh-duh (etc).  Anyway, Darude has moved away from the musical genre of ‘musical drill noises over a trance beat’ which offered up an international smash, and has instead opted for anthemic pop fronted by a Finnish rockstar man with impeccable facial hair, accompanied by a lady dancer in green and wind machine, whilst Darude himself pisses around in the background on a very small piano.  Theme alert: we’re now on two acts wearing leather jackets and some variation on fishing waders – Finnish rockstar man has thigh-high boot effect embedded into the colouring of his jeans. 

Did this make it?  Negative.
Are we surprised?  Yeah, a little.  The song was catchy enough, and it was performed by a bona fide pop… oh sorry, what’s that, Sandstorm was a hit in 1999?  And you're certain that 1999 is twenty years ago? 
                       
4. Poland
Fire of Love (Pali się) by Tulia

Tulia are a girl band, but the styling is less bra tops and slinky trousers, and more red veils, DIY twig and cracker-jewel crowns and the offcuts of a maypole for a skirt – as if the dress code were ‘sacrificial virgin who wants to turn heads before she’s murdered’.  They’ve also eschewed blended RnB harmonies for deliberately pitchy St Trinians’ school choir.  The song has no discernible tune or hook and sounds bloody awful.  Indeed it is bloody awful, but it’s fairly clear that Tulia ran out of fucks quite some time ago.

Did this make it?  It did not.
Are we surprised?  No, not really – if you're going to dress in traditional Polish folk outfits, it's important to include cleavage and milk churn.

5. Slovenia    
Sebi by Zala Kralj & Gašper Šantl

White-clad teen couple sing monotonous stoner pop, whilst staring unerringly into other’s eyes, for they are so deeply in love – *dry heave* *massive eye roll* *dear god young people are SO BORING*.  The level of cringe here is "one Made In Chelsea character asking another Made In Chelsea character out on a date", which is only one level below "two Made In Chelsea characters actually going on a date".

Did this make it? An excruciating three minutes that not only will I never get back, but that I’ll have to experience AGAIN on Saturday.
Are we surprised?  Completely.
But will it win?  If this made it through the semi-finals – and it did – anything could happen.
           
6. Czech Republic   
Friend of a Friend by Lake Malawi

Three clean-cut heart-throbs in skinny trousers and Influencer jumpers (seriously, where can I purchase that mustard sweatshirt), bouncing around looking dreamy whilst performing an absolute ear worm about a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend (actual lyric).  The Czech Rep are carving out a good niche for themselves as the purveyors of kitchsy, cutesy, slightly knowing/ironic boy pop , where the theme tends to be ‘oh I really fancy this girl, but she hasn’t really noticed poor adorable me’, which couldn’t be more of a teenage girl hook.  It is of course also total bollocks IRL, as these fit young pop performers will be heavily drinking and heartily shagging their way through the (admittedly minimal) number of young straight women attending Eurovision.

Did this make it?  This must have easily galvanized the teenage she-vote.
Are we surprised?  Nope.
But will it win?  Top ten?

7.  Hungary  
Az én apám by Joci Pápai  

Portly Hungarian man with teeny-tiny top knot and bare feet.  This had panpipes and understated but dramatic wailing.  (Understated! At Eurovision! Bold times.)  I appreciate I was in an minority, but reader - I didn’t loathe it.

Did this make it?  Nope.
Are we surprised?  I’m a little sad, but surprised?  That would be a no.

8. Belarus     
Like It by ZENA
                       
Confident forgettable pop by confident forgettable popstrel in white vinyl waders and booty shorts.  The kind of tune I might catch popping into New Look for some ballet pumps, or whilst having to retune the car radio on the motorway.  It was FINE, but I’m mainly sad Belarus have moved away from sending heavy metal pretty boys who like to perform nude in front of projections of wolves and giant babies.

Did this make it?  It did.
Are we surprised?  I suppose it was quite polished, for Eurovision.

9. Serbia       
Kruna by Nevena Božovic

And the dads suddenly wake up – the Serbian Daryl Hannah hath arrived.  Blonde tousled locks, statuesque frame in black evening gown with full leg on show, pouty red lips, breathless singing in a foreign language/big-voiced singing in accented English, own wind machine, string accompaniment and rocky power ballad -  literally all the clichés perfectly ticked.  And then, lest any dads were wavering, she only goes and does some sexy air guitar.  What a pro.  She is magnificent.  Her song is not.

Did this make it?  Yes.
Are we surprised?  Yes.
But will it win?  No.

10. Belgium
Wake Up by Eliot

Eliot is a nice boy in an oversized bomber jacket and crew cut who sings Coldplay-esque electronica, backed by three massive drums, two of which are being pummelled by a woman, one of which is being pummelled by one man, which tells you everything you need to know about gender equality, doesn’t it.  There’s one catchy line where our little Belgian sings “I came to fight, I came to fight over you”, which is delivered with all the authenticity and passion you’d expect of a fresh-faced 14 year old who hasn’t spoken to a girl since Infants.

Side note: writing up this entry somehow led me to the Manneken Pis Wikipedia page, which is worth a browse for the costumes they’ve seen fit to dress him in - can’t decide if I prefer judo or saxophone.  I hadn’t ever really backed Belgium, but if they promise to dress the Little Pisser as their winning entry, I am ALL IN for Ghent 2021.
  
Did this make it?  Non / nee
Are we surprised? Non / nee.
                       
11. Georgia    
Keep on Going by Oto Nemsadze             

Well Oto seems a ‘character’, that’s for sure.  There was a heated debate in our house about who he looked like “Jean Reno” versus “an aged J from 5ive” versus “something of the Bronn from Game of Thrones” versus “some Georgian guy in black with a man bun”.  I found Oto to have unexpected sexual magnetism, though it turns out I am completely alone in that opinion.  It’s possible that I was taken in by his five strong Georgian Male Voice Choir – there’s testosterone in the baritone, as literally no-one has ever said because it is even more disgustingly cringeworthy than that duet from the Slovenian love birds.

Did this make it?  No to Oto.  N’Oto, if you will.
Are we surprised? We are n’Oto.

12. Australia 
Zero Gravity by Kate Miller-Heidke

Popera about post-natal depression, which initially seems a) like a bit of a serious bummer and b) a total rip-off of the musical Wicked, right down to the white witch outfit and gravity reference.  However, HOWEVER, it turns out to be an absolutely spectacular, highly moving, incredibly well-staged, slickly performed and beautifully conceived, really sensational piece of art, YES ART.  Basically, Kate (Glinda off Wicked / new mum with PND) and her two more black-clad witchy gal pals perform attached to very tall poles which swing from side to side above a giant projection of the earth, making them look as if they are floating in – get this – ZERO GRAVITY.   Kate’s mates do lots of witchy flailing with mucho chiffon, whilst Kate herself does amazing operatic yodel trills and an entire body hula - and I mentioned them being attached to poles, right?  Throughout.  YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT ART?

Did this make it?  Yes.
Are we surprised?  No.
But will it win?  TEAM OZ.
                       
13. Iceland    
Hatrið mun sigra by Hatari

Where. To. Begin?
By explaining that Harari are a techno punk band, who are performing a song called Hate Will Prevail?
By pointing out that they dress in PVC catsuits with a great deal of stud, buckle, corset, belt, leather thong and bondage detail, as well as hulking great platform boots and zero-powered contact lenses?
By describing their staging - a giant globe/cage at the back of the stage, inhabited by a gimp man who spends the entire performance chained up whilst smacking the cage with a giant bejewelled pugil stick?
By inferring that they have blown the rest of the budget on fire, red lighting and strobes?
By noticing (perhaps most shocking of all) that one of them has a bleached mullet?
By commenting that the music both makes your ears bleed and your feet tap?
By reporting that there’s a key change?

I mean – all of that stands.  All of that, and more.   

Perhaps I’ll leave you with a snippet of their Wikipedia page: “Hatari consists of clean vocalist Klemens Nikulasson Hannigan and harsh vocalist Matthias Tryggvi Haraldsson (‘Clean’ and ‘Harsh’ Vocalists! Who knew?!), and producer/drummer Einar Hrafn Stefansson.  Klemens is the son of Nikulas Hannigan, the head of the trade office division at Iceland's Ministry for Foreign Affairs, and Ran Tryggvadottir, a lawyer for legal firm LMB Mandat.  Matthias is the son of Haraldur Flosi Tryggvason, the owner of LMB Mandat and Gunnhildur Sigrunar Hauks, an artist.  Einar is the son of Stefan Haukur Johannesson, the Icelandic ambassador stationed in London.

It’s... quite something.

Did this make it?   YAS KWEEN!
Are we surprised?  It’s a thrash metal cracker – so no.  Remember Lordi!
But will it win?  A very learned Eurovision friend is seriously considering putting a bet on them.

14. Estonia    
Storm by Victor Crone                   

Victor’s no crone, that’s for sure, as he’s very pretty (not my type, obvz, I’m into Georgian machismo), but he has limited charisma, presence or musicality. He’s styled like a Neighbours’ actor trying to break into the pop scene at the turn of the nineties.  Sometimes he has a guitar, and sometimes he doesn’t.  (I’m struggling with this one, you can tell.)

Did this make it?  Yes.
Are we surprised?  Shrug emoji.
But will it win?  Mid-table oblivion.

15. Portugal  
Telemoveis by Conan Osiris          

Deep breath.
Ok.
This is Conan.  Conan has a beard veil made of leather.  Conan is wearing a pleated kimono in a shade of green halfway between emerald and fern, which Esme and Patrick from the Sewing Bee would judge to have been very well pressed.  Conan has matched his well-pressed kimono suit with those trainers I see on the feet of young fashionable men on the buses of South London that look like the bases have been over-inflated.  Conan appears to have halted his dirge-wailing to do some jerky angry dancing and stamping.  Conan has a friend on stage in a long emerald-fern pleated skirt which appears to be equally well-pressed.  Conan’s friend also has emerald-fern evening gloves with pleats of their own, which he wiggles at the camera whilst belly-dancing.  Conan’s friend goes en pointe on his inflated trainers.  More jerking.  More wailing.  More begloved-pleat waving.  This goes on for three minutes before they fake their own deaths - just before we all start to contemplate mortality, simply to make it all stop.

Did this make it?  Europe is denied.
Are we surprised?  It was a pile of absolute steaming horse turd, but Saturday’s final will be the poorer without it.  This is the one the semi-final deniers should return to - it’s not fair on any of us that you shouldn’t all have to sit through that.
                       
16. Greece
Better Love by Katerine Duska

I’m sure I’ve said this before, if Greece isn't putting out a tiny woman with massive lungs in an even tinier dress singing an even massiver choon, I AM NOT INTERESTED.  So you can imagine my appreciation for this sub-par Florence and The Machine number.  I think the theme was white wedding in a Christmas bauble, where the flower decor was a giant pot pourri arrangement, the guests were ballerinas (inexplicably) armed with fencing swords, and the bridesmaids were sporting Marigolds (gloves not flowers).  The bride/singer wore a smock of ruffles, including a vertical one perfectly aligned with her vagina.  There was no groom. 

Did this make it?  Apparently, yes.
Are we surprised?  I certainly am.
But will it win?  Even Cyprus might hold back the douze here.

17. San Marino
Say Na Na Na by Serhat

Serhat is an older Turkish gentleman with a husky voice and a bald cranium, who cannot hit a note to save his life, but somehow has the charm and balls to forge on through, and Europe is full speed behind him.  This was some truly woeful singing, backed by dancers in white suit jackets and Bermuda shorts, fronting a projection designed using solely MS Word, to a joyful disco beat and endless lolz.  As ever, a Sammarinese triumph.

Did this make it?  Yes.
Are we surprised?  We should be.
But will it win?  Serhat seems capable of anything.  And I mean, anything.

And there we go.   We’ve made it through the first semi – what filler whilst the votes get counted?  Rylan doing a little chauffeuring skit I enjoyed greatly, lovely Scott Mills doing a terrible skit about whether Madonna is going to perform at the final (WHO KNOWS?!), before 1998 winner Dana International’s entirely new face mimes a Bruno Mars hit, because – sure, why not, whilst the audience is menaced by a kiss cam, because - sure why not.  

Jayde Adams also appears – sadly underused, for she is a Bristol legend in the  making.  If you want to hear a podcast which regularly references Bedminster Asda as well as the joy of Eurovision, then you are IN LUCK.  And if you start listening now you might be able to get through them all before Thursday night - cause that’s right babies, we’re doing this all again then.  Shalom Europe!  See you for Semi Final two.

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