“Ranking highly amongst the “yes I will seek this out and listen to it a lot” entries.”
Tim: Part of me really wanted this to win so that Anna could go back to Eurovision 9 years later and TRIUMPH, proving all her haters wrong. That didn’t happen, of course, but never mind. They’re still wrong.
Tim: I dismissed this after a minute or so as a competent track but one that would ultimately get buried in Tel Aviv with all the other equally competent pop tracks.
Tom: I’ll grant you that it has a decent chorus, and there’s definitely something to be said for the pop-folk style they’re going for. Not much to be said for those verses, though.
Tim: Well, right. Except, then she walked off the stage and into a nearby forest, and it became slightly less forgettable, and then in the recap clips I realised that by the end, it is actually a right proper banger. It’s too early to say for certain, of course, but it’s ranking highly amongst the “yes I will seek this out and listen to it a lot” entries for me at the moment, because damn if there isn’t a massive amount of energy and joy in that song.
Tom: Even with “ashes to ashes, and dust to dust”. I know what you mean, though. That string-section middle eight really does stand out, now I come to think of it.
Tim: It’s marvellous. And sure, maybe it wouldn’t be great at Eurovision. But that doesn’t mean it’s not great at all.
Tim: Good, isn’t it? And after seeing that costume, BLOODY HELL was next up in my basic thoughts when this got going, followed by a HOLY FLIPPING HECK when the sparks shot, because oh, it is so nice to have camp pop up on stage like this.
Tom: It’s a very “what the British think Eurovision is” sort of song, isn’t it? Heck of a chorus, really nice staccato middle eight, not actually going to be voted for.
Tim: Well, yes, very true. But still, wow. Throughout the first couple of verses you’re waiting for her to march down those steps, wondering what’ll happen when she gets to the bottom, but then it seems that there’s nothing, oh but hang on here are some backing dancers, oh no but they’ve gone, and wait OH THERE IT IS. What a performance. What a song. What a woman.
“The middle eight is literally just a man singing at a reindeer.”
Tim: As is tradition here, let’s stick with the Melodifestivalen final for a while.
Tom: With the ones who were less successful.
Tim: Well, yes, I suppose. I’ve had a lot of time for John Henrik’s previous entries, in 2015 and 2017. This year, singing about the Northern Lights, he steps it up somewhat, by serenading a reindeer.
Tom: It was nice of Sweden’s 1976 Winter Olympic team to lend him one of their old dress uniforms, wasn’t it?
Tim: You mean, you…
Tom: Disclaimer: this was a joke, I have not bothered to look up old Winter Olympic dress uniforms
Tim: Oh, okay. Though, wouldn’t have surprised me. Anyway, what was I going to say? Ah, yes: I know it would have been phenomenally difficult (and I guess risky) to do, but I would have ADORED it if they could have lined up the camera, a precise pose from him and the backing screen to have the reindeer erupt out of his microphone, Patronus style, to really hammer home how utterly ridiculous that scene is.
Tom: I mean, they’d already set the stage on fire, it’d get a bit much.
Tim: Would it, though? Would it really?
Tom: I think that was the point when it really sunk in for me just how ridiculous the track is: the middle eight is literally just a man singing at a reindeer. Kind of breaks it all up, doesn’t it?
Tim: It’s a nice song, all flutey and everything, and like I said I enjoy the genre every now and again (though I tried to listen to one of his albums a while back, gave up after three tracks). It has FIRE, and DANCING PEOPLE WITH SHEETS, and an INEVITABLE UPCOMING KEY CHANGE but suddenly it drops everything for him to tell a reindeer how much he loves it, and I start giggling. A shame. A lovely track, spoiled by fifteen seconds of baffling stage design.
“Good grief, Sweden’s good at this pop music thing, isn’t it?”
Tim: With the number of songs competing every year, it’s not unusual there’ll be some overlap behind the scenes. Thomas G:son, one of the most prolific Eurovision songwriters —
Tom: I had to check, and that’s not a typo, he’s got a colon in his stage name.
Tim: Correct — had two entries in 2007, 2012, and 2016, and this year Laurell Barker has a hand in composing the entries for Germany, the Netherlands and the UK. What is new this year, though, is for one song to have been written by another country’s actual performer. In this case, ours, written by, as of Saturday night, Sweden’s choice. This choice, to be precise.
Tom: Well, that’s a Eurovision winner right there. Or at least, strongly on the top-left of the table. Good grief, Sweden’s good at this pop music thing, isn’t it? And I note that Lundvik’s kept the really good track for himself.
Tim: He has, hasn’t he? It’s basically a better version of our song. Oh, well. There are a lot of things to say about it, even after that lengthy intro, and I almost want to do bullet points but that wouldn’t exactly fit with our format, so let’s have one quick fact: absolute landslide. This got the full twelve points from all eight of Melodifestivalen’s international juries, in the end getting 181 points with second place getting 107.
Tom: Now I’ve heard it, I am not surprised by that at all. Listen to that chorus! It’s not quite a Love Shine A Light, but for the first time I can genuinely say that it’s close.
Tim: The things is, it’s a brilliantly constructed song. It’s a standard quiet first verse, we’re relaxed a bit, and then we get some energy for the chorus, again standard. But then OH, there’s a second part of the chorus, with backing singers and everything. Doesn’t cut back much for the second verse, and then come the second chorus we’re right back in at the high level and still higher.
Tom: A gospel choir! They’ve made four backing singers sound like a full gospel choir. I wonder if that’s pretaped? If not, I hope they can replicate something like that on the night.
Tim: Except, of course, we’re still not quite there, and as listeners we know that there’s more coming after this quiet middle eight, and OH MY WORD, suddenly it’s more than just Britain that has a key change, and apparently countries that take Eurovision seriously have them as well, and the song is just brilliant.
Tom: It has the old Demolished Man jingle problem: the chorus never quite resolves. It stops a little too soon. You can always add another chorus on, in your head. For a regular pop song, that could be infuriating. For a Eurovision track? It’s just going to make it extremely memorable.
Tim: Oh, and another thing, though not about John but one of the backing singers:
The on stage backing vocalists of John Lundvik are two American and two Swedish women. One of the Americans, Ashley, didn't get the time off for the #Melfest final from her day job in Washington DC. So she quit and decided to move to Sweden.
Tim: Tom, would you care to learn about one of the greatest injustices ever to have occurred in the entirety of human history?
Tom: On the assumption that you’re talking about a Melodifestivalen reject and not actual depressing history, then, sure.
Tim: This came last in its heat.
Tim: Yes, it turned me off from the very first second. And yes, when she appeared I thought ‘oh, bloody hell’.
Tom: I’ll be honest, I was wondering what was wrong with you through that whole first verse. That’s a lovely song for children or for middle-of-the-road radio airplay, I thought, but it’s not exactly Eurovi– but then.
Tim: BUT THEN. In not too short an amount of time, that utterly delightful chorus came along, and everything became marvellous.
Tom: I mean, “marvellous” is a strong term. I’ll go for “not terrible”.
Tim: The song’s title translates to ‘My Four Seasons’, and it’s about how all year round the earth seems lovely when she and the song’s target are together. And with that message, the sudden joyous display of energy in the chorus and that sheet blowing around behind her like she’s some sort of fairy, this song does have quite a bit going for it.
Maybe it didn’t deserve to come first – scratch that, actually, I’m not sure it even deserved to graduate to Andra Chansen – but last? That’s just upsetting.
Tom: It would have done very well in the 1970s Eurovision, I reckon.
Tim: Remember Isak? He was the one who had that Hozier-esque song last month with the disturbing music video.
Tom: I couldn’t have told you his name, but I definitely remember that video.
Tim: Good, although it doesn’t seem like we’re getting a video for this one. Given how literally he took the title for that one, mind, it may be a good thing.
Tom: Nice of Kesha to let them borrow the slow piano opening of Praying. (Yes, I know that’s a bit too harsh, it’s a vague resemblance rather than any sort of plagiarism, but that’s a very, very predictable intro and first verse.)
Tim: Not as loud, powerful or “LISTEN TO ME” as last time; on the other hand, it does sound very nice throughout and build up to a great second chorus and beyond, all of which really works for me. The lyrics may be (are) somewhat (entirely) downbeat, but they fit with the music, combining together to make a really good, albeit remarkably depressing, ballad. I like it. With or without that predictability.
Tim: It’s only been eight months since we last heard from Dotter, but it’s been a full two and a half years since we last heard new music from Måns, so the question we should be asking is quite simply:
Tom: “Wait, I can’t remember Dotter, who are they?” Sorry, that’s probably not the question you were on about. What was your question?
Tim: IS IT ANY GOOD?
Tim: Yes, yes it is, and quite a lot of good at that. Intro that says “hello, I am a piece of modern pop music”, first verse that continues in that vein and also brings in Måns’s lovely vocal, and then we straight into the great chorus.
Tom: This snuck up on me: through the first half of it, I was ready to dismiss it as just another mediocre track, but somehow by the end it had won me over.
Tim: When Dotter comes along we do get the slightly curious situation of two people singing “yes I’m a bit rubbish but please stay with me” directly at each other, instead of just wrapping up after Dotter’s first line with a quick “oh, great, let’s go then”, though I guess that wouldn’t have made for much of a song so I guess I can manage.
Tom: Maybe they’re both singing it at different people simultaneously. Although that’d make it even more confusing. Anyway, the song does suffer from The Best Bit’s The Middle Eight Syndrome, doesn’t it?
Tim: Well, slightly, although the truly lovely part for me is after the sort of fake ending after the middle eight, when we come back with a chorus that is bigger and better than everything prior to it, for a wonderful close. All in all, great stuff.
Tim: Turns out DAVID44 has a surname as well as a number, which is Ólafsson; I don’t know what I expect you to do with that information, but anyway, here’s his new track.
Tim: It’s apparently not just about breaking up, as he says he’s recently started enjoying his own company rather than going out all the time, and as someone in a similar place I have a lot of appreciation for that. Musically it’s pretty nice as well – starting very calm, developing briefly into that chilled house vibe you’re not keen on, before swiftly changing gears into a slightly funked-up number, which I was surprised to discover I quite like.
Tom: Oddly, the chilled-house vibe works for me as an introduction: I just don’t want a full track of it. And I’m not convinced that the gear change moves it out of there: I think the production feels a little bit lackluster. And sure, that may well be the effect they’re going for: laid-back is a fine aesthetic, it’s just not for me.
Tim: Fair enough, though it’s weird that it is for me. Normally anything like that turns me right off (that’s why I’ve had no time for either of Sweden’s last two Eurovision entries) but here it really works for me. Maybe it’s just because it’s sort of layered in gently, I don’t know. But I do know I like it, and that’s enough.
Tim: So, in Friends, Ross’ 7 year old son Ben was played by twins, I think because of acting rules, and they were Dylan and Cole Sprouse. Cole is currently starring in the ridiculously fabulous, and fabulously ridiculous, TV show Riverdale; Dylan, meanwhile, is starring in a Kygo music video.
Tom: I mean, I’m happy for him, I guess?
Tim: Quite what the difference is between ‘starring’ and ‘guest starring’ is in a stand-alone music video I’ve no idea, but I’ve probably talked enough that.
Tom: I’ll be honest, we passes that point when you talked about obscure Friends actors, but ANYWAY.
Tim: Instead, the song, and when I saw Kygo had a new one out I thought “ah, Kygo’s got a new one out” and then “he’s generally good for a decent track”. Always nice to be proved right, because this is indeed a decent track, I reckon – a perfectly serviceable bit of piano dance.
Tom: It’s very much an Album Track as far as I can tell — and while I’m glad we’ve mostly left pineapple-infused tropical house in the past, I can’t help feeling that Kygo’s lost some of the signature sound here.
Tim: True – I happened to hear Firestone the other day, and it reminded me how damn great it was. So no, it’s not up there with his best, but certainly a lot better than some of his worst. I like it.
“Can I say that they’re enthusiastically strained?”
Tim: A quick trip to France, where this came in fourth place, and I’ve often (well, maybe once or twice) said that what can really makes a performance is a good “wait, what just happened?” moment. Prepare yourself for multiple ones.
Tom: Good heavens, what on earth went wrong with the live director? “Wait, what just happened” is meant to be because you can’t believe what you’re seeing, not because the director cut away at exactly the wrong moment. There’s points where it’s out of focus, points where its’s not clear what’s going on. All it needs is someone yelling “RUN THE ROLLER” over the top of it.
Tim: Beautiful moment of Eurovision history, that. So, not that it would matter at Eurovision, as hardly anyone able to vote would understand him. but he’s wanging on about a promise he made to be true to himself. The music’s peculiar – starts out a bit gentle dance notes, heads into brief Hoppípolla territory, before bring back into standard guitar and light drums.
Tom: And it feels like a lot of his higher notes are a bit… well, charitably, can I say that they’re enthusiastically strained? Maybe it’s a deliberate choice, but it certainly sounds off to me.
Tim: As for the performance, well, there was an unusually high numbers of acts that night featuring topless men dancing around, but no others got quite so close as to be almost licking him, and that is a bit weird. What I would say, though, is that if you’re doing a ripping the clothes off act, it should be more than just black jacket to black T-shirt – can’t we have a bit more variety?
