I often think Dove is the world’s greatest brand.
I wish I worked for Dove. I wish I had made this ad.
Sure, it’s just a big money spinning international cosmetics brand trying to shift units.
But it does stuff like this, and it does stuff like this a lot.
I love you Dove you.
And what’s more.
Self Esteem sings the song.
Week three of Anna and my observations and tips.
First up, Latvia
Mark’s view
OK let’s get going with The Latvian entry Let 3’s, Mama ŠČ!
The Eurovision Song Contest celebrates diversity through music – nothing could be more apparent than this appalling song with a cast of five Hitler-light male drag singers and an intervention from a Croatian Lurch carrying a pair of smoking nuclear warheads. My guess is these guys are not meant to be fascists but maybe making some non-understandable anti war statement.
It’s bonkers and a lot of fun. The trouble is, without the visuals you are left with a slightly out of tune, punky Macarena, and we all know the Macarena is unbearable at the best off times.
Pish but fun.
Anna’s View
Croatia has a remarkable ability to traverse the musical spectrum with unfathomable fluidity.
They’re the nation that gave us ‘Guilty Pleasure’, ‘Tick-Tock’ and ‘Nebo’ – entries which are competitively nebulous. They’re also the nation that gave us Jacques Houdek – a man who stood on stage, (nearly) missed all his cues and still managed to perform a duet with himself. Now they give us ‘Mama ŠČ’.
Not Mama ‘S.C.’ as it was pronounced on a news podcast.
This entry is far from nebulous. It’s political, it’s satirical, it’s a veritable ‘washing-machine’ of a performance – with a pair of missiles, several costume changes and some spangled netting thrown in for good measure. This is more closely aligned with entries of a Eurovision since deceased – the mirroring spirits of Bosnia’s Laka and Verka Serduchka are resonant here, and that resonance will undoubtably extend to the viewer at home. It’s contextually political – evidently – but it’s competitively nostalgic.
Musically, it’s neither here nor there. And that seems to be the point. This band want to make a statement, and a statement is what they make. In terms of voting power, I don’t believe the viewers will be swayed by it’s tangible satirical overtones – instead responding to a rousing display of madness before them.
The more tunefully-inclined, however, might not get the joke.
Prediction: POSSIBLE QUALIFIER. If it gets there, juries will rate this very low on Saturday, but with a high televote due to it’s apparent ‘novelty’ value, will likely finish around 18th.
Spain
Mark’s view
Blanca Paloma – EAEA is Spain’s entry although you’d be forgiven for thinking it’s Morocco’s so strong are the Moorish influences in the song, albeit augmented by an interesting flamenco style clapping bunch of backing singers.
The title ‘EAEA” is slightly moronic and it’s a shame because what we have here is the best song I’ve heard this year in that it is a straight folk song, not trying too hard to be outlandish and is all the better for it.
What we have is a fine vocal performance with a classy video delivery by a very good singer, although I think its folk leanings may not sit very well with the judges. I, on the other hand, really rate it.
Bravo Blanca!
Anna’s View
This is one of my least favourite Eurovision entries of the past 20 years.
The first time I listened to this, I thought the strides and success of Chanel in the face of Spain’s Eurovision struggle had been washed away. I thought they had made the wrong choice – I found this totally inaccessible.
But my view is only that of one. I really appreciate what Bianca is doing – she’s clearly an enormous talent with a strong personal story to boot! The song, is just not for me.
However, people like this. They really like this. This is strongly emerging – as many Spanish entries do given the undying ferocity of the country’s fan-base – as a strong favourite, chasing the leading pack at 4th in the odds. This is an outside, but not impossible, winner on the night. It’s rich sounds, uniqueness and traditional overtones are as likely to strike a chord with the voting public as they clearly have with the fandom. Maybe Spain have made the right choice after all?
But equally, for all the same reasons, people might just not get this. But I’m willing to be proven wrong.
Prediction: Likely TOP 5 in final.
Latvia
Mark’s view
Sudden Lights – Aijā is the Latvian entry.
I’m not certain if it is about suicide by drowning or what but it goes from a rollicking Aha-esque pop song into a sudden last verse despairing plummet where the lead singer is moved from an empty swimming pool, by a bunch of sixth formers, to a bath and essentially drowned while the music dramatically transposes from English to Latvian and the tile, which means lull, corresponds to the ritual drowning.
They then carry him off to a funeral pyre. Although he may not burn ‘cos he’s too wet.
I’m not sure it’s exactly what you’d call a crowdpleaser and may come with a Samaritans phone number to phone after seeing it.
Having said all that. It’s a really good song that could do well with a positive ending.
But me, I like hard core misery so it’s a contender for my points.
Anna’s view
When at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.
Unfortunately, Latvia have been trying again for a very long time and haven’t got anywhere with it. With the honourable exception of Aminata in 2015, their success-rate in qualifying – and doing well – has left us wanting, and I’m sorry to say that this year is unlikely to be any different.
That said, there is a silver lining for Latvia. People adore this song – the performance in the music video is fresh, contemporary and fundamentally cool. It isn’t the most instant on a first listen – which doesn’t bode well in a contest where you only have one shot and three minutes – but when you get it, it’s a pleasant and a robust addition to any background Spotify playlist.
The live performance at Supernova was unimpressively staged – the band gave it their all – but we didn’t see very much that was new. Which rings alarm bells when you need to grab people’s attention to get them to vote. If however, they are able to harness some of the magic and aesthetic from the music video and pull it out of the screen and on to the stage, their could be a route to qualification. But it’s a long-shot.
There’s a song like this every year – fans enjoy it, but when it gets to the crunch of the competition, nobody ends up loving it quite enough.
Sorry Latvia, keep trying.
Prediction: NON-QUALIFIER
Having brushed the tears from my eyes as I put this truly magnificent novel to bed I now have the task of explaining to you why it is so irridescantly beautiful, without gushing. But I’ve blown it already.
A made up story about craniopagus twin sister (that’s conjoined twins joined at the head) has the potential to be exploitative (some might even go as far as to say sick).
This is anything but.
Rose the bigger, stronger of the two essentially carries the smaller, clubfooted, Ruby. They’ve never seen each others’ faces joined, as they are, looking away from one another. They are close, as you would expect, but they fall out, they get jealous, they go through puberty in very different ways, they have very different metabolisms.
Ruby gets terribly car sick and this narrows their horizons, but deep down these two are tremendous explorers.
The midwife, Lovey, that delivered them to a 17 year old girl, unmarried and entirely incapable of raising them, adopts them with her crazy Slovakian immigrant husband Stash, and so life begins on a Canadian farm.
The story takes us to Slovakia and the Northern USA but mainly plays out in in rural Canada, in a small town community where the girls are beloved by the community. It takes the form of an episodic retelling of their lives with all the joy and tragedy that they experience in their 30 years, which makes them the oldest surviving craniopagus twins in the world.
Along the way the full arpeggio of emotional experiences any ‘normal’ pair of twins might encounter is rendered in a mix of humour and pathos, but it’s never pathetic.
The class in Lansens’ writing is of the unfussy variety. She’s a natural storyteller and avoids over sentimentalising this genuinely extraordinary story.
My love for Ruby and Rose deepened with every page. I suspect yours will too.
I often say things are masterpieces, that’s because I choose well. This is Lori Lansens’ masterpiece, because I very much doubt she can trump it.
It’s week two of Anna Aalto’s inspiring Eurovision previews and this week we have the entries from Serbia,
Serbia
Mark’s view
Samo Mi Se Spava by Luke Black is Serbia’s entry and it’s tinged with Eastern promise although Luke’s clearly in Gary Numan’s fan club.
We’re not judging the video which is just as well. Because it honks.
The lyrics which mix Serbian and English are fairly pish TBH. Something about dreaming and sleeping.
But I like its menacing air and overall rate it a top ten finisher.
Anna’s view
Another strong – if bewildering – entry from Serbia, building on the eventual success of Konstrakta and her Latin hand-washing last year.
This song floats between dance and introverted ambient house in a perfect and sometimes unsettling synergy. Luke is expressive and fabulous, and he’s a graphic designer by day, so I’m totally on-side.
This concept house of a performance is a mood board that sits between James Dyson, Georgia O’Keeffe and the Transformers. Emerging from a strange crystallise and dancing amongst a technological umbilical, It wouldn’t look out of place in a window display at Dover Street Market behind the CDGs.
Serbia has a strong and consistent record of qualifying for the Grand Final across a plethora of genres, with a few understandable stumbles along the way. This is certainly not amongst the five weakest performances in its semi-final, but whilst it has a strong hook and a memorable display, it’s a long way off being a challenger for victory. Its melody is not the best, but it’s a definitely not the worst.
Prediction: QUALIFIER. Mid-table in Grand Final. Close to achieving top-10 if it gets a good draw.
The Netherlands
Mark’s view
Mia Nicolai & Dion Cooper bring us Burning Daylight for the Dutch.
It’s middle of the road boring balladry of the sort that gave Celine Dion a bad name and sullies the Eurovision legacy for great pop such as Congratulations, Puppet on a String and Waterloo.
This is so forgettable that I….uhhh….errr. I…
Oh forget it. I already have.
Rank, rubbish from rotten Rotterdam.
Anna’s view
‘Burning Daylight’ is rapidly becoming my song of the year.
On first listen, I have to say it passed me by. The moment I consumed Mia and Dion’s emotive and beautiful music video this song was transformed for me from something of a pastiche to something utterly powerful. It is melancholic, hopeful, defiant, soft, hard – all in three minutes. It might be nostalgia, but this Midwest pop-rock sound transports me back to my university days, listening to Gotye and Nate Reuss, and that’s just luscious for me.
This is what the Dutch do best. This sound has provided The Netherlands with a string of top 10 placings since their return to Eurovision glory with Anouk and The Common Linnets ten years ago. Douwe Bob, Ilse and Waylon, S10, OG3NE, and to a degree winner Duncan Laurence – all followed this highly rewarding template. It’s understated quality.
There’s no doubt that this entry is excellent on it’s own. But there’s also no doubt that it will be the staging, like the music video, that will elevate this entry from good to something special. And given previous form, I have no doubt that The Netherlands will provide something which both enriches and compliments this piece of perfect pop.
In short, I love this on a personal level. But I don’t see this as a winner – it will require other bigger songs to fall, which is not to say it wouldn’t deserve it.
Prediction: QUALIFIER. 11th in Grand Final.
Finland
Mark’s view
Käärijä – Cha Cha Cha
Right. Thank you Finland. Now we are fucking talking.
This is the winner from the opening bass driven beat to the outstanding lyrical complexity of the hook.
Cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, cha.
It has menace. It has propulsive thrust from the very off.
And oh look how he kicks that pallet apart.
Ooh, I could croosh a grape.
It goes a bit S Club 7 on us for the break and that bit should have bbeen put down at birth but the rest of it is bloody brilliant.
European nonsense at its very finest.
Go Käärijä.
Anna’s view
This is one of the greatest things ever crafted by the hands of humanity. The invention of the wheel, Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, Finland’s 2023 Eurovision entry.
‘Cha Cha Cha’ sits somewhere between Scottish comedian Limmy, The Human Centipede, a night at the Moulin Rouge and a wrestling match in a farm yard. It’s effectively a song about self-confidence, and getting pissed to get you there.
This extraordinary display begins in some kind of pig pen, with Käärijä growling intensely into the eyes of the viewer, before upon the chorus he’s joined by a squad of dancers who he appears to be tied to with pink rope. What ensues is a lot of screaming which is eventually replaced by a conga and an unmistakably euro-dance beat. It shouldn’t work. But it does. It really does.
This is the perfect Eurovision entry. It is memorable, it’s unique, it’s challenging, it’s competitive. But most importantly it doesn’t fit a mould. This is clearly someone expressing themselves in a way only they know how, and given Finland’s patchy Eurovision record, it seems ideal. It’s also great quality – yes, the performance is novelty, but that’s not to say that the performance is amateur or lack-lustre. It is well constructed, coherent, powerful and he doesn’t put a foot wrong.
This is certainly a televote-friendly song, but for all the reasons I’ve just mentioned, it’s sure to score well with the juries too. This has already been a massive hit in Finland. Could this win? Certainly. However, for everyone that loves it, someone will hate it, and its divisive nature may hold it back from victory overall in the Grand Final.
This will be Finland’s second best Eurovision entry behind Lordi, without a doubt. It may even become their best. I’m up for Helsinki 2024.
Prediction: QUALIFIER (Semi-Final WINNER). Possible winner overall, but most likely 2nd or 3rd in Grand Final, held back only by Sweden and Ukraine, which are more accessible.
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