“A female singer with lots of hairspray and big hand movements.”
Tim: Tonight’s the night! Just time for one more reject then, and with this from Norway let’s go back in time about twenty years.
Tom: Oh good heavens. A full brass section and crooning guitar; synchronised male instrumentalists behind a female singer with lots of hairspray and big hand movements. You’re right: this is mid-90s Eurovision.
Tim: That it most certainly is, bringing back memories of what Eurovision could be – instead of (spoiler for tonight) dreary ballad after ballad after ballad, we have lively songs, with orchestras and brass and electric guitars. I like that.
Tom: Agreed: these days, it sounds more like a daytime chat show introduction theme, but it’s still lovely. Brought a proper smile to my face in a way that most songs we have don’t.
Tim: What with it being twenty years out of its time, mind, it’s hardly surprising that it didn’t qualify for Norway’s final, but I can listen to it and think of the glorious Katrina days, so for that I’ll have it.
Tim: So, you know how about three quarters of this year’s Eurovision’s entries are competent but dull ballads, including Norway’s?
Tom: Yep. It’s going to be a tough Eurovision.
Tim: Well, this came second for them, and it kind of starts out the same way.
Tim: I say kind of, because there’s always a hint of something a bit bigger underneath, and then for the pre-chorus, it’s confirmed.
Tom: It’s a long build, but it certainly pays off in the end. Not sure if the composition is quite up to the production, though.
Tim: That enormous voice of his is put to proper use, and then we hit the chorus proper and OH THE LIGHTS and THE BEATS and THE NOISE and THE JOY and then it never lets up until the end with THE SPARKING and THE GLORIOUS GLORY.
Tom: And the full orchestra! Don’t forget the full orchestra.
Tim: Stylistically it’s basically a dance mix of Norway 2010, and it’s just as fantastic, so WHY MUST ALL THE SONGS BE BALLADS???????
Tom: Because Conchita won last year, I’m guessing. Here’s to 2016.
“Hit that out of the park and into orbit around the moon.”
Tim: Quick warning for you, Tom: you may want to have some Xanax on hand for after the middle eight. Every normal person, though, will FIND. THIS. GLORIOUS.
Tom: Good heavens, that’s a powerful introduction.
Tim: It got to the Gold Final of Norway’s contest this year, and oh, it’s just one of the feel-goodest songs we’ve heard in a long, long time.
Tom: So obviously I’m going to disagree here. Sure, an attempt at a feel-good song in a long, long time. But it’s like a teacher trying to be cool, or a Christian rock band trying to get a group of bored schoolchildren interested in Jesus. Yes, they’re hitting what should theoretically be the right notes, but the result just hits a wall of cynicism, along with a vague wondering whether Norway have accidentally dug out an entry from thirty years ago.
Tim: Mate, you’re just messed up. For the first couple of minutes I was wondering why the lighting and staging were so calm for a song of this nature, as right from the first chorus it’s very much a THIS IS AWESOME number. Come the final section, though, WOW, didn’t they just hit that out of the park and into orbit around the moon. And that camera shot facing out to the audience? Just now, that’s overtaken the Måns Zelmerlöw shot as my favourite of the year, purely for what it’s hiding.
Tom: Yep, I absolutely can’t fault the staging and technical direction on it: it’s just a shame about everything else.
Tim: ‘Shame’? Bloody hell. You may hate the number of kids there (and wonder how they were planning on doing that at Eurovision with its age limit of 16 and performer limit of six), but damn, you surely can’t deny that’s a bloody wonderful way to close this track.
Tim: Back to Denmark now, and the song that came a close second (first with the viewers), and has since convincingly won the YouTube views race. A gentle number for you, with pleasantly literal staging.
Tom: Brave choice with the extreme close-up there, but it paid off.
Tim: It’s staging like this (the suitcase, not the close-up, that is), and Belarus’s in 2010, that make me think of the missed opportunities that were had by Greece in 2013 when they could have lobbed bottles of Ouzo into the audience, or Latvia last year when they could have baked an actual cake on stage (though given the time available, probably just stuck some Mr Kipling pies in a microwave). But I digress. This song.
Tom: It’s good. Very good. Maybe too many repeats of ‘sui-ui-ui-ui-uitcase’, but I can’t complain about that. It’s rare that even the verse in a song is good enough that I stop writing and listen to it properly. All of this song is good: it’s not just about the hook.
Tim: Peaceful, calming and inoffensive, and I suppose kind of fitting for the “follow your dreams and stop arsing about at home” theme, though it wouldn’t hurt to give it a bit more oomph to hammer that in. Happy lyrics, happy music, cheerful all round. Nice work.
Tim: Off to Iceland this week, whose final was really very disappointing indeed, with two exceptions – the victor, María Ólafsdóttir with her song Unbroken, and this, whose title translates to Million Moments.
Tom: That is a Good Drumbeat.
Tim: Indeed it is, and that bumpy beaty ride is all about spending every single one of those million moments we get with the proverbial ‘you’, naturally. A number of high points here, not least of which is the simplicity of it – piano melody that barely varies from one single one-bar loop, primary drum beat that is literally just one beat over and over again – that makes it very easy to remember, enjoy and join in with.
Tom: It does, and on the Eurovision stage that may well have helped it — but it did mean that even at three minutes it overstayed its welcome for me. Yes, there’s some additional twiddly bits on that piano, and a different chord going into the chorus, but a bit more variation would have been welcome, particularly with that staccato delivery.
Tim: See, that staccato delivery of it is my favourite thing about this: strictly syllable by syllable, beat by beat, so if you arm yourself with a copy of the lyrics you can very easily chant along with it (or the slightly bassier studio version), bash your fists around and work yourself up into quite the lather. Great track.
Tom: Agreed: despite my reservations, this would have done well. Add some pyrotechnics and Eurovision production values, and I reckon this could have done well.
“God knows I’d not listen to whole album of the stuff, but right now? Lovely.”
Tim: Tom, meet Melodifestivalen’s interpretation of J-Pop; I genuinely don’t know what your reaction to this will be, though you’ll probably (and fairly) already have made your mind up from the band name.
Tom: Never mind the band name, you’re telling me someone’s tried to combine Europop and J-Pop? This’ll be either brilliant or brilliantly awful.
Tim: Only one way to find out…
Tim: And I think that’s just WONDERFUL.
Tom: The production is wonderful, yes. The music’s exactly what I hoped it would be from your introduction. But let’s be honest, the lyrics are abysmal and at least slightly creepy.
Tim: Well, it’s an introductory song, isn’t it – three 18 year olds calling themselves Molly, Holly & Polly, and if the various revelations in the song weren’t enough for you, in a recent interview they claimed to come from a dollhouse in Dollyville, so they’re basically the Spice Girls crossed with the Teletubbies. The chorus is incredibly catchy, and whether that’s a good thing or not is entirely subjective, and personally I love it. God knows I’d not listen to whole album of the stuff, but right now? Lovely.
Tom: I can’t see it doing well at Eurovision, but then my predictions for that have never been all that accurate.
Tim: Stylistically, this is, obviously, way out on its own; in terms of serving a purpose, though, I’d put it up with Hasse Andersson – not gonna win in a billion years, but it’s a lot of fun, a big break from the usual, coming with a fairly nice key change. Do they have a future after the contest? No idea. They see themselves more as appealing more to kids than anyone, so I guess it all depends on how many pre-teens have Spotify.
“This is what a good, modern Avicii song sounds like.”
Tim: This is the second of Ireland’s good but rejected tracks, though you’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise: the writers are Swedish, the singer is Swedish, and for backing singers she had actual successful Swedish girlband, the recently featured Timoteij. Still, there’s nothing in the rules against that, and it ended up coming a respectable third place.
Tom: This isn’t a bitter rewrite of Avicii’s Wake Me Up, is it?
Tim: Entirely not, though I suppose there’s an opportunity there.
Tim: Returning to the theme of slightly rubbish judges complaints, this was (unfairly) described as a bit of an Avicii ripoff.
Tom: I mean, it sort of is. The title’s close, and while it doesn’t go full-on EDM it’s certainly got something of the farm-house about it.
Tim: Well, possibly; it was also (fairly) described as having a slightly wonky and unnecessary key change. Disappointingly, that key change sounds excellent and not at all unnecessary in the studio recording, and it came a close second with the juries, who’d only heard that.
Tom: Again, the score suffered for the performance: you’re absolutely right that it sounds strained in the live version.
Tim: Maybe it’d have done better without that wonkiness; we’ll never know, of course, but if I’m honest it’s probably better that an all-Sweden act didn’t go for Ireland – even Canadian Celine Dion has a Swiss lyricist when she competed for Switzerland.
Tom: And there’s at least a French link of sorts between parts of Switzerland and Canada.
Tim: WHATEVER the case, though, this is a good track – instead of a cliché, that key change struck me as unusual and interesting in a dance track, and if it did come across as an Avicii ripoff that’s only because this is what a good modern pop song sounds like.
Tom: Oh no, no it doesn’t: this is what a good, modern Avicii song sounds like. This is his style.
Tim: Hmm – maybe I’m subconsciously trying not to hear it. Anyway, this was the third track performed, but the first one that made me actually realise it might be worth sitting through Ireland’s selection show, so it’s at least got that going for it.
Tim: Probably due to the abandoning of the old mentor system, Ireland had a surprisingly high number (well, three out of five) of actually good songs in their contest this year.
Tom: And no Jedward.
Tim: No, we seem to be well past them now. One of the three was chosen to represent them, one we’ll discuss later on, and one was this from Nikki, who in fact came a very close second to Jedward in 2011.
Tom: Oh. Oh dear.
Tim: The feedback from the judging panel here was that her voice was rather strained and couldn’t quite hit the notes, which to be honest I thought was a little unfair at the time; then I listen to it again and realised that actually there are a couple of moments in there that sound a bit off, so maybe it wasn’t so unfair.
Tom: Yep, I was going to point that out: at least she’s singing live, but if you can’t hit them on RTE, you’re sure as heck not going to hit them on the Eurovision stage. I’m not sure I can really give the song a fair hearing with this version.
Tim: As for the rest of it, though: it’s great, and I still don’t think it deserved to be knocked down to fourth place by that.
Tom: Possibly not, if we were getting the studio version.
Tim: Properly emotional, big and enthusiastic, get involved with it, be shouting along by the closing chorus, proper band and co-written by her for those that like to talk about proper authentic music – what’s not to like?
Tom: The performance, sadly — and that stands out in the middle eight, which is gorgeous in both writing and performance. Let’s not forget, Jemini’s “Cry Baby”, while it was never going to win, didn’t really deserve bottom of the table either.
Tim: Last trip to the Melodifestivalen final for now, and it’s this, the track that turns up every year – the country/dansband track that we all love but never ask for, as it sure as hell isn’t going to Eurovision.
Tom: Hooray! And I always enjoy it, although never enough to actually download the song.
Tim: This year’s carrier: Hasse Andersson, who’s been going basically forever but hasn’t entered Melodifestivalen before now. And what an entrance.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fUT-iPlP0I
Tom: A disturbingly happy violinist! He’s got a disturbingly happy violinist!
Tim: My favourite part (and really do please stop reading now if you’ve skipped ahead before the song’s got to the end, because SPOILERS) is not the key change itself, great as that is, but the moment before it, when the middle eight draws to a close, he starts singing again, and you suddenly think “OH I KNOW WHAT’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN,” and then a few seconds later it does, and you get goosebumps running through your body and the song rises up to perfection.
Tom: Wait, perfection? Really? Let’s not go that far.
Tim: Oh, no, perfection it is – not in any way perfect for Eurovision, mind, but a wonderfully enjoyable track to listen to, to dance along with, to see the sheer joy you mentioned on the face of that violinist and to have that infect every single part of you.
Tom: Mm. I think “infect” is the right verb there. If only because I started tapping my foot after that key change, damn it. It’s even got a la-la-la bit.
Tim: With its happiness and, yes, infectious glee, it is, in short, the song Sweden deserves, but not the one it needs right now.
“If it’s taking its cues from one of the greatest closing numbers in Broadway history… well, it could do a lot worse.”
Tim: Right then – the Melodifestivalen final review continues, and here’s one of the two songs the UK jury thought was better than Heroes but overall placed just seventh:
Tim: Oh, hang on – wrong video, sorry. Here you go:
Tim: So, with the obligatory, unavoidable and entirely fair comparison out of the way, how does this stand up on its own? Still pretty brilliantly, I think.
Tom: It does, although now you’ve pointed the comparison out I do hear it more than I should. But if it’s taking its cues from one of the greatest closing numbers in Broadway history… well, it could do a lot worse.
Tim: Energetic is the key word, I’d say – a big beat reinforced by the massive speakers on stage, more spark gun usage than in the rest of the competition combined, backing dancers who look like they’re doing aerobics and, of course, the instruction not to stop coming at us a full 64 times.
Tom: Either you actually counted that, which is impressive, or you’re trusting that I won’t bother to double-check, which is… well, it’s correct.
Tim: Bit of both, really, as I think I may have lost count towards the end. However many it is, though, it certainly gets the message across, and I really do like it a lot.
Tom: Yes, but I’m stunned the UK jury voted it above Heroes. It’s good, it may well have deserved to be in the final — but what were they thinking?
Tim: No idea, but, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to shake and shimmy it the best that I can.
