12. Lithuania – What happened to your love – Linas & Simona
I can’t help but feel that this is trying too hard to be too many things at once, as the straightforward old-fashioned pop of the song itself is mixed up with all manner of Latin brass flourishes, oh-so-modern “scratching” effects (it’ll never catch on), r&b-style vocal trills (which just don’t sound right when mixed with Baltic accents), and clattering percussion (clattering percussion breakdowns are now rivalling “operatic” vocal styles as this year’s Big Thing). The overall result is rather fiddly and confused, like an over-ambitious piece of “fusion cuisine” in a mid-market brasserie with ideas above its station. 47 points.
13. Albania – The image of you – Anjeza Shahini
Now, this is more like it. Bearing all the signs of having been assembled by skilful, experienced professionals who have done this sort of thing a good few times before, The image of you builds most effectively – from its gentle ballad-style intro through to its genuinely uplifting chorus, complete with gospel-style choral backing. Just as you think that the chorus might be in danger of outstaying its welcome (how exactly are they going to fill the last minute?), the song shifts into what you assume must be its mid-section breakdown. The mood drops and builds back up; the gospel element becomes more pronounced; the choir become more animated; the already high-pitched Anjeza lets rip with the really high notes; and then – now, this is the clever bit – having saved all the best bits till last, the song ends there and then, without need of a final chorus. To do well in Eurovision, you’ve got to wow us in the last minute, and this is where the Albanians truly succeed. 77 points.
14. Cyprus – Stronger every minute – Lisa Andreas
After God knows how many uptempo numbers in a row, this stately, timeless orchestral ballad – of the sort that gets all the “bring back the orchestra” diehards of a certain age squealing with glee – is well placed in the draw, offering a refreshing change of mood. Some lovely touches in the orchestration serve to lift the song above the pedestrian, and Lisa carries the tune ably enough – despite an oddly squeaky voice that might have benefited from a bit of “bottom”, as it were. The whole thing threatens to splutter to an early halt at around the two minute mark, with a rather conclusive sounding “please stay” mid-section, before gathering its skirts up again and making a spirited dash for the finishing line. Not really My Kind Of Thing, but I doff my cap respectfully to its craft. 64 points.
15. FYR Macedonia – Life – Tose Proeski
In a word: overwrought. Despite some skirling Eastern strings on the chorus, (and if this moves Wogan to trot out his “whiff of the souk” quip ONE MORE TIME, I’ll… I’ll… I’ll… well, I don’t know WHAT I’ll do, but it WON’T BE PRETTY) and an awful lot of sweaty heaving and straining on the part of Mr. Proeski (I’m seeing throbbing veins on temples here), it doesn’t really add up to an awful lot at the end of the day, does it? Meanwhile, the tortuously self-analytical lyrics (“roaming through my old emotions, I find new feelings of misery“) could have been lifted straight from a particularly angst-ridden teen-goth Livejournal entry. 42 points.
16. Slovenia – Stay forever – Platin
Plod, plod, plod. You know, it’s at times like these that my whole commitment to Eurovision is called into question. Yeesh, is that the time? Have we really got six more songs to go? Still? The best I can say for Stay Forever is that it makes an ideal toilet break. Don’t all rush at once! 5 points.
17. Estonia – Tii – Neiokõsõ
Now, this is where we sort the sheep from the goats. If your acquaintance with the ESC is strictly limited to giggling with your mates in front of the telly once a year, then you’ll find plenty to scorn in Estonia’s throaty, choric, minor-key “ethnic” offering (and hark, is that the sweet sound of yodelling which I hear once again?). If, however, you have demonstrated a long-term commitment towards the contest, spread over many years of diligent, thankless effort, then the likes of Tii will cause you no difficulties. If you liked Finland’s Aava from 6 years ago, or maybe the Belgian runner-up from last year, then this will probably be right up your street. Why, even as I type, I can see the flaxen-haired maidens running through the pine forests in their diaphanous muslin frocks. (Which is possibly the main problem with this entry: it sounds less like a song, and more like an interval act.) 62 points.
18. Croatia – You are the only one – Ivan Mikulic
Cripes, the booze is really pouring through me tonight, haha. Can’t imagine what’s the matter with me. Er, shall I uncork another bottle on my way back? No, it’s no problem at all – leave it to me. I SAID LEAVE IT TO ME. In a word: piss-poor. 8 points.
19. Denmark – Shame on you – Tomas Thordarson
OK, let’s run through the check list.
Clattering thwackity-thwack percussion? Check.
Discreet touches of flamenco guitar, to capture that Mediterranean vote? Check.
Key change? All present and correct, SAH.
Operatic yodelling? Sorry, we ran out of funding for operatic yodelling, but we’ve made up for it by rhyming “FYE-ya” and “diz-EYE-ya” in the chorus; would that be an acceptable substitute?
Oh, it would, it would! Denmark, I kiss you! 55 points.
20. Serbia & Montenegro – Lane moje – Zeljko Joksimovic
Sorry, but what is it with all the clattering percussion this year? Has everybody been forced to listen to the Pet Shop Boys’ Se A Vida E before putting pen to paper, or what?
(Which gives rise to another thought: the days of the in-house orchestra may be long gone, but couldn’t we all have a whip-round and hire those lesbian drummers instead? Because, with this year’s selection, they’d have a field day. What were they called? She-boom, wasn’t it? Yes – them. Get them on a plane to Istanbul this instant.)
Anyway, the clattering percussion on Lane moje is of the more muted kind, complementing rather than smothering the mood – which is all chest-beating Balkan butchness, pan-pipes of the forest, skirling gypsy violins, the works. I’ve developed a real soft spot for this sort of stuff over the years, and this is a fine addition to the canon. 67 points.
21. Bosnia-Herzegovina – In the disco – Deen
The riff from Hot Stuff meets the bassline from The Chase, as Deen indulges in a veritable homage to Giorgio Moroder. Listening to his vocal performance, words like “fey” and “lisping” spring inexorably into mind and lodge themselves there, no matter how hard I try to dismiss them as the residue of some long-buried internalised homophobia. (But come on, she’s GOT to be in The Gays, right? I’ve seen the photos.) So, can we – dare we? – expect another Paul Oskar moment here? (Iceland, 1997, leather kecks, couch, S&M girlies, fond of stroking himself.) A nice try at over-the-top campery, but – like Paul Oskar’s offering, in fact – there’s a certain thinness at the heart of In The Disco which ultimately works against it. And, really, Donna Summer should sue. 63 points.Nearly there, kids!
22. Netherlands – Without you – Re-union
A-ha! Like Rollo & King at Copenhagen in 2001, Re-union come out of nowhere with a simple, good-natured breath of fresh air, which compares most favourably with all the laboured twittering/tubthumping/thwackity-thwacking of the last few songs. Easy guitar strumming, a touch of piano, pleasant harmonies and a memorable soaring falsetto in the chorus are all that are needed to make this a dead cert for qualification. The fire/desire rhyme (this year’s third, and counting) is merely the icing on the cake. In a word: breezy. 70 points.
Mike’s Semi-Final Top 5:
1. Belarus: My Galileo (or, as the artists themselves pronounce it: Magga Lee Lay Low) (93)
2. Ukraine: Wild dances (89)
3. Albania: The image of you (77)
4. Finland: Takes 2 to tango (75)
5. Netherlands: Without you (70)
troubled diva 