Tim: Fourth in this week’s series of “songs Tim thought were considerably better than Robin Bengtsson”, the entry from your favourite last year. This time, the Swedish voters agreed with me, with it coming second to his third (voting was very close this year – lowest ranked got six percent, highest got less than twelve – so the juries held a lot of sway).
Tim: And we keep a small amount of the country stylings, but immediately get off to a much bigger start, with it very quickly approaching banger status.
Tom: It’s not bad, is it? I think it’s my favourite of the ones you’ve sent so far, for the same reasons as last year. Also, full marks to her for being able to manage not just the big shouty bits, but also a whistle-register note — all in the middle of a high-pressure live show.
That bed should absolutely have lifted up off the ground for the final chorus, though. Staging opportunity missed.
Tim: Oh, good call. But here’s the thing: occasionally (but only very occasionally) I have a problem with Melodifestivalen, and it’s exemplified by this. Basically: all the good songs are out at once. As I write this, 16 of the Swedish Spotify top 20 are from there (four of the rest are from one artist, you can guess who), and although that’s a sign of a strong competition, it does get me a little annoyed that the rest of the year suffers slightly as a result. Towards the end of each year, if an artist has an amazing song, why release it then rather than submit it for Melodifestivalen, when they may do much better as a result with all the publicity?
Tom: When it’s being played potentially three times (heat, Andra Chansen, final) in front of an engaged TV audience who are actively interested in the music? It’s a strong argument.
Tim: On the other hand, it’s only very occasionally I think like that. Most of the time, it’s a period to look forward to. Sure, they’re all out in one six week period, but boy, what a six week period.