Intro Post

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Last week, I booked flights to Copenhagen in May for ẗhe Eurovision Song Contest 2024! I plan to visit both Copenhagen and Malmö (two very close cities) for the contest, and that’ll be my big trip of 2024. I have no idea whether I’ll get tickets for the contest, but I’ve told it’s worth visiting the host city either way. This will be my first time in both Denmark and Sweden!

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Introduction

Eurovision 1996 was Norway’s second time hosting Eurovision, and this time they chose their capital, Oslo. It graciously gave Ireland a one-year break from hosting. This was the second contest to have a semifinal, but it again didn’t have the format we know today. Norway automatically got a slot in the final, but 29 countries—all but one of whom had participated before—competed for the other 22 slots. Their qualifying round was not a televised event, but an audio-only jury selection.

Seven countries were eliminated in the semifinal: Denmark, Hungary, Israel, Romania, Russia, and two that especially hurt: North Macedonia and Germany. North Macedonia wanted to debut this year, but they had to wait till 1998. Germany was eliminated despite sending a fan favorite song, which caused a lot of controversy that I’ll discuss very soon. It also meant there were no more countries with perfect attendance, since Germany was the last. Five countries returned after skipping 1995: Estonia, Finland, the Netherlands, Slovakia, and Switzerland. Ireland won for the seventh and most recent time, and Norway and Sweden were the next highest.

I feel like I should be more surprised that one of the hosts (Morten Harket) is the lead singer of a-ha, the band known for “Take on Me”, but Flo Rida once competed in this contest so anything is possible. The other host (Ingvid Byrn) is a regular old Norwegian TV presenter. The EBU must have realized that hiring two singers as presenters in 1991 wasn’t a great idea.

The postcards had a three-part format: first the singer introduces themselves and sings a song of their choice, then the usual good old Norwegian scenery, and finally a politician from each country wishes the contestant luck in their own language. I’m guessing the organizers had three different ideas for postcards and combined them into one.

This blog post will cover 30 songs: the seven non-qualifiers, then the entries in the contest itself. It’s gonna be a doozy, so you better buckle up. I watched this contest with British commentary.

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Germany: Planet of Blue (eliminated)

Artist: Leon (Jürgen Göbel)

Language: German, plus phrases in English

Key: C minor

In the semifinal, the juries listened to each entry in order of the country’s two-letter country code, so Germany is DE. That’s why the first non-qualifier I’ll be reviewing is by far the most famous one.

A big problem with Germany in Eurovision is that after “Ein bisschen Frieden” won, they stopped showcasing the actual variety of their music scene and kept sending peace ballads and/or Ralph Siegel songs. So when a hypnotic techno song won the German national final, viewers expected it to score highly in the contest—how could it possibly not? It’s fresh and contemporary, it has strong choreography, and it showcases a totally different side of German music. Given my small amount of exposure to German techno and industrial music, I can safely say it sounds very German. The alternation between singing and shouting probably helps.

Pretty much everyone agrees it made no fucking sense that this song didn’t make it to the contest. I really can’t think of a good reason why. I can think of a petty reason: maybe the juries hated fadeout endings. I hate fadeout endings with a burning passion and I really wish this song had a proper ending—seriously, that’s the ONE bad thing about this song—but I don’t think the juries all felt this way. I’m tempted to say the juries didn’t like electronic music, but the UK reached third place in the semifinal. That leaves the only possible reason to be bad luck.

It’s tempting to think it would have been revolutionary if this song made it to the 1996 final, but I think it’s more revolutionary that this song didn’t qualify. It made viewers, broadcasters, and the EBU take a long, hard look at the Eurovision voting system, which by this point was becoming dated. The rise of cell phones meant it was now easy for Eurovision to set up televote systems, and Eurovision would use televoting for the first time in 1997. Additionally, Germany’s absence from the contest raised the question of whether the biggest countries should automatically qualify for the final. To resolve this, in 2000 the Big Four rule was born, which remains divisive to this day.

This song’s non-qualification proved that the contest’s format up to 1996 no longer fit the large amount of countries or contemporary music tastes. This began the most chaotic period of Eurovision history, from 1997 to 2003. But it’s not just Germany that caused viewers this year to question the voting system. I’ll revisit this topic when I discuss the British entry, which also scored lower than expected.

Denmark: Kun med dig (eliminated)

Artist: Dorthe Andersen and Martin Loft

Language: Danish

Key: D♭ major (verses), E major (chorus)

In contrast to Germany’s notorious non-qualifier, this is just another average ballad. As with the 1993 non-qualifiers, this proves that a semifinal to filter out the boring songs is the right idea, but it’s best done when it’s part of the actual show.

Hungary: Fortuna (eliminated)

Artist: Gjon Delhusa

Language: Hungarian

Key: E major, F♯ major

For some reason, this was the non-qualifier that came closest to qualifying. It scored the same number of points as Finland, but because of the tiebreaker rule, Finland made it to the final. This was for the best, since it’s another boring ballad that puts me to sleep, except this features the names of European cities to annoy me further.

Israel: Shalom Olam (שלום עולם) (eliminated)

Artist: Galit Bell

Language: Hebrew

Key: A♭ major, A major

This boring quasi-rock song with a slightly off key singer makes me wonder what the juries were thinking when they eliminated Germany. There are many Eurovision results that I don’t understand, many of which involve Germany, but this is on another level.

North Macedonia: Samo ti (Само ти) (eliminated)

Artist: Kaliopi Bukle, who also represented her country in 2012 and 2016

Language: Macedonian

Key: A major, B♭ major

First disclaimer: This country wasn’t called North Macedonia until 2019, but I’ll call it that throughout this blog for the sake of consistency. Second disclaimer: Some people consider Macedonian to be a dialect of Bulgarian, but I’ll treat them as separate languages for the sake of this blog.

Say, when was the last time we heard a ballad in 6/8 time? This song isn’t that remarkable but it’s a lot better than the last three. I like that the instrumentation isn’t too heavy, consisting mainly of piano, drums, and bass with a bit of strings. I’m not as big on her opera singing though.

I think it would’ve been fair to reserve a slot in the final for North Macedonia, since this would have been their Eurovision debut. But that would’ve meant another country wouldn’t make it to the final—perhaps Finland, but North Macedonia’s absence would have changed the point distribution, so it’s hard to say.

Romania: Rugă pentru pacea lumii (eliminated)

Artist: Monica Anghel (who represented Romania in 2002) and Group Sincron

Language: Romanian

Key: G major, A♭ major

This semifinal is frustrating for two reasons. First, eliminating the boring entries is a smart strategy but I know we won’t see that again until 2004. Second, I’m starting to wish I only talked about Germany’s song because it’s hard to say anything about the other rest. Another ballad pleading for world peace, except it sounds maybe slightly different?

Wait, there’s one interesting thing. Near the end, it almost sounds like Monica is singing “you want to die with us”, but looking at the lyrics, that’s nothing more than a mondegreen. It’s not actually that interesting, but it did throw me off.

Russia: Ya eto ya (Я это я) (eliminated)

Artist: Andrey Kosinskiy

Language: Russian

Key: D minor

If there’s any 1996 non-qualifier besides Germany that’s worth listening to, it would be this one. It’s got a funky Russian city pop vibe, like the verses of “Vechnyy strannik” two years prior. It was probably too esoteric in style for the juries to appreciate, but compared to most of the other non-qualifiers, it’s not half bad. I’m sure the Eurovision orchestra would have brought it to life.

Note that this is one of only two Russian Eurovision entries to not qualify to the final. The other is “I Won’t Break” from 2018, and the story behind that song is a can of worms.

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Turkey: Beşinci Mevsim

Artist: Şebnem Paker

Language: Turkish

Key: C minor

Here’s the first entry in the actual contest! You never know what to expect from Turkey—this time, they gave us a nice slightly ethnic song with a violin and accordion, plus a strong singer. It’s a great opener because it tells listeners this contest will be full of surprises. The one problem with this song is that the second half doesn’t change anything from the first. If the second verse added a new instrument or changed the chord progression, that would have done wonders.

United Kingdom: Ooh Aah… Just a Little Bit

Artist: Gina G, an Australian in Eurovision before it was cool

Language: English

Key: D♭ major

Through most of the 1990’s, Eurovision wasn’t an accurate representation of the 90’s music scene. It consisted mostly of power ballads, moving orchestral pieces, and ethnic songs. So, what happened when the UK sent a song that was accurate to 1990’s pop music? It became a smash hit all over the world, including in the United States, and it’s probably the most iconic Eurovision entry of the 1990’s. And yet, in the contest itself, this only scored eighth place, to the shock of the entire audience.

Even though I’m normally not a big fan of Eurodance, this song is just so full of energy that I can’t help but love it. It’s super upbeat and catchy, and very easy to sing along to. This style of electronic music reminds me of what seemed cool and hip in the early 2000s, the era in which my earliest memories reside.

Gina’s skimpy disco ball dress is iconic, as are the pink and yellow backing dancers. And yet, this song’s staging shows us why Eurovision needed a modernization. The instrumental consisted almost entirely of a backing track; the orchestra played a tiny bit of strings over it. The backing track was all electronic, but the rules stated the instruments needed to be seen on stage, so how was this problem solved? The stage featured two guys playing electronic pianos, plus bulky Apple Mac computers to represent the synths. This was a very silly and unconvincing solution—as TV viewers could see, the computers weren’t even turned on. That’s why in 1997, the rule of showing backing track instruments on stage was dropped, and songs with an entirely pre-recorded instrumental were now permitted.

The instrumentation wasn’t the only way this song caused a rule change. The song’s surprisingly low result proved that juries alone were no longer an adequate way to score Eurovision. The juries can be helpful in awarding the best vocal performances, but otherwise, they’re just humans with their own tastes like you and me. Different humans have different tastes, as proven when the semifinal juries (an entirely different group of people) ranked this song third highest. This result meant that in 1997, five countries scored songs with televote for the first time, then that became the dominant method of voting for the next decade. Viewers would soon see that pure televoting has its own problems, and the 2023 result led the EBU to question whether the juries should have less weight next year.

One thing is clear from this song: no matter how much some fans want Eurovision to stick to tradition, the contest can only succeed if it changes and grows with the times. Which it has been doing a lot lately: I would say the 2020’s are the most successful the contest has ever been! “Ooh Aah… Just a Little Bit” was the wake-up call Eurovision needed to stop being stuck in the past.

Spain: ¡Ay, qué deseo!

Artist: Antonio Carbonell

Language: Spanish

Key: E♭ major

This song frustrates me because it has a nice bossa nova instrumental with a lot of great jazzy chords, but the singers make me want the song to end as quickly as possible. The lead singer and backing singers are polar extremes, annoying for opposite reasons. Antonio sings in dramatic opera style while the backing singers sound flat and unenthusiastic, and neither of their voices fits with the instrumental. I’m guessing this song wasn’t specifically designed for Antonio Carbonell, but instead the composers wrote this song first and then sought a singer.

Portugal: O meu coração não tem cor

Artist: Lúcia Moniz

Language: Portuguese

Key: D minor

Until they won in 2017, this song (which achieved sixth place) was Portugal’s best Eurovision result; it’s still their second best. Given that it scored only 18th place in the semifinal, I have to wonder how much of this was luck. Still, I’m pleased this song scored well because it’s a very ambitious entry.

So what is this song exactly? The title means “my heart has no color”, or figuratively, “my heart is colorblind”. The lyrics tell people from all Portuguese-speaking countries to come together and celebrate their shared but different cultures. If you look at translations of the lyrics, you’ll find tons of footnotes explaining all the cultural references to Portugal, Brazil, Cape Verde, and so on. It also contains the word “saudade” (which also tends to get a footnote) because of course it does. Musically, it’s a mishmash of tons of Portuguese-speaking countries’ genres, and while it can sound disjointed at times, it’s such a unique and ambitious concept that I can’t be too hard on it. Plus, it’s got plenty of jazzy chords.

I’m not sure how this song managed to score sixth place. Not because it’s bad, but because normally the juries don’t care for traditional Portuguese music. The lead singer (who is very pretty) delivers a confident performance and is clearly enjoying herself on stage. She even points to the instruments on stage a few times, to help hint at the song’s meaning. And yet, I probably would have thought the juries would find it too eccentric, as is common with Portugal.

This brings me back to a point I made earlier. The increasing diversity of songs meant that juries alone were no longer an adequate way to score them. It was good for the chanson fest era, but the technology for televoting was in place and already used in several national finals. The time had come for Eurovision to give televoting a shot.

I have one more question: if your coração has no cor, wouldn’t it be an ação?

Cyprus: Móno gia mas (Μόνο για μας)

Artist: Constantinos Christoforou

Language: Greek

Key: B♭ major, F major

For a Eurovision ballad it’s not too conventionally ballady and puts a strong amount of emphasis on the piano, but I’m tired of ballads regardless. I’m also tired of thinking of a different thing to say about each ballad. As with most ballads, it’s decently well-composed but I don’t see myself coming back to it.

Malta: In a Woman’s Heart

Artist: Miriam Christine

Language: English

Key: A minor, B minor

Fun fact: the postcard for this song features the famous rock arch in Malta called Azure Window, which collapsed in 2017.

In some ways, this feels like an early 2000’s Eurovision entry. A dominantly electronic instrumental, a swing drum beat, and heavily accented English singing that I can’t understand very well. The instrumental is pretty good compositionally, but I don’t like the cheap-sounding electronic drums. As with several other songs from this era, they sound like a default drum beat in music software.

Croatia: Sveta ljubav

Artist: Maja Blagdan

Language: Serbo-Croatian (Croatian)

Key: C major (verses), F major (chorus)

This song is tied with 1999 for Croatia’s best ranking in Eurovision, which is fourth place. Both those songs are in the country’s own language, but that’s not unusual for Croatia.

Croatia in the 1990’s is starting to develop a style: dramatic female singers with a tinge of classical or Balkan instrumentation. It’s nice to hear a waltz in this contest, and her dramatic hand gestures do a good job hinting at the song’s meaning (oh, my sacred love, please give me strength!) but I have a few problems with it. First off, as with Turkey, the second half feels like a repeat of the first half. This is the type of song that would benefit from constant buildup throughout: we’ll see a perfect example of this at the end of the contest. Second, her screams are annoying and, as with almost all screams in Eurovision, don’t contribute to the song. I say “almost all” because “1944” by Jamala does it right.

I want to say that the singer’s performance is why the song scored high, but because it scored only 19th place in the semifinal, it could just be luck.

Austria: Weil’s dr guat got

Artist: George Nussbaumer

Language: German (Vorarlbergisch dialect)

Key: A♭ major, B♭ major

Most of the messages at the end of the postcards are short and presumably mean “good luck, (country)”, but a few countries’ representatives went the extra mile. Austria’s minister of education said, “Lieber George, du bist heute für uns der Größte. Wir halten dir die Daumen.” (Dear George, today for us, you’re the greatest. We’re holding our thumbs (crossing our fingers) for you.)

Here’s the second of four Austrian entries in regional dialects of German! This is the closest we’ve ever had to a Eurovision entry in Swiss German, because Vorarlberg is at the western tip of Austria and their dialect is close to Swiss German. I didn’t know that until I wrote this post.

If only Germany wasn’t shafted from this competition, then this would’ve been such a strong year for German-speaking countries. This would’ve been the first year in ages where neither Germany nor Austria sent a sappy peace ballad. Austria gave us a gospel song that starts out slow but gets faster as it progresses, which is a great way to get the listener engaged. It’s got a great jazzy piano too, but I can’t tell whether it’s playback. It sounds like it would fit in a movie or stage play that reenacts early 20th century history.

Switzerland: Mon cœur l’aime

Artist: Kathy Leander

Language: French

Key: D♭ major, E♭ major, F major

I’ve heard about 50 French chansons/ballads like this before, especially ones where the singer is breathy then waily. Sorry, but this is really boring. The juries agreed with me, because this got 16th place in the final. Also, I thought we were done with double key changes.

Greece: Emís foráme to himóna anixátika (Εμείς φοράμε το χειμώνα ανοιξιάτικα)

Artist: Marianna Efstratiou, returning from 1989

Language: Greek

Key: G major

Marianna’s previous Eurovision entry was a run-of-the-mill ballad, so I’m thankful this is something different. This is another musically interesting song—a 7/8 time signature all the way through, plus a Mediterranean-sounding chord progression. Unfortunately, it plays things too safe with the instrumentation and doesn’t have much else elevating it to greatness. It gets repetitive after a while.

Estonia: Kaelakee hääl

Artist: Maarja-Liis Ilus and Ivo Linna

Language: Estonian, a very cute-sounding language

Key: E major, D major, E major, D♭ major, F♯ major, F major, G major

This is a romantic duet whose singers were 15 and 46 years old respectively. If the age difference seems sketchy, it’s because the female singer was originally going to be Elevin Samuel, who was 21 years old. Elevin couldn’t make it to the national final so she was replaced with Maarja, and Ivo wasn’t at the final either so he appeared on the big screen instead. This contest was Maarja and Ivo’s first time meeting in person. It shows because they don’t have much chemistry on stage.

I never thought I would see a Eurovision duet where the younger singer is far better than the older singer, but this is the one. Maarja has a lovely soft voice and the Estonian language sounds great in it, but typical of a teenage performer, she looks a little too shaky on stage. On the other hand, Ivo doesn’t shake much, but his raspy voice drags down the song. I would’ve liked this song more if it was just Maarja, because her voice fits it like a glove.

I have no idea why this song has so many key changes, or why they keep going up and down. Maybe it’s meant to convey a dreamy and free-floating romance? It’s actually more tolerable than the repetitive ascending key changes we saw so much in the 60’s and 70’s.

Norway: I evighet

Artist: Elisabeth Andreassen, returning from 1982, 1985, and 1994

Language: Norwegian

Key: D♭ major

Just as the first entry featuring a member of Bobbysocks (Hanne Krogh) was a solo way back in 1971, the final one featuring one of them is another solo. Elisabeth Andreassen’s final Eurovision entry scored second place, but it’s not fair to say she almost won Eurovision twice. She scored 48 points below Ireland.

Songs like this show the advantage of sending returning artists to Eurovision: they have tons of experience and know how to deliver a good performance. Normally, returning artists sing in a similar style to their previous songs, but I think I like it better when they try a different style, because it showcases their versatility. Compared to her upbeat girl duo pop songs and the romantic ballad two years prior, this is something new from Elisabeth. It’s a slow atmospheric song whose title means “for eternity”. She’s good at singing both fast songs and slow songs!

The instrumentation of this song is lovely: it’s dominated by the orchestra, but it has a few synths to give it a tinge of modernity, plus a very nice pan flute. I’m really enjoying Norway’s atmospheric music style from the 1990’s, like we saw in “Alle mine tankar” (1993) and “Nocturne” (1995). The style differs from standard romantic ballads because it doesn’t try to be flashy or punchy. These kinds of entries remain subtle and let the beauty of music speak for itself, and it works like a charm because they keep scoring highly.

This type of atmospheric music is what 90’s Eurovision does best, because most other genres of the time either sound samey or aren’t fit for orchestration. I’ll see for myself what kind of style is most tolerable in 2000’s Eurovision, because from compilation videos I’ve seen, it seems to be the contest’s dark age.

France: Diwanit bugale

Artist: Dan Ar Braz and Héritage des Celtes

Language: Breton

Key: G major

This is the second of three Eurovision songs performed in a Celtic language, the first of two in Breton, and the first performed entirely in one of France’s minority languages. Statistics are nice and all, but I should probably find out if the song itself is worth listening to.

In the 1990’s, it’s clear that France had enough of sounding traditionally French and experimented with regional styles and the music of their former colonies. This time, they gave us a slow, melancholy song with a bit of Celtic flair—the total opposite of the hectic “Fulenn” from 2022. Part of me wishes it sounded a little more ethnic, but it’s quite a moving song as is. Going by a translation, the lyrics seem to be a reflection on the suppression of the Breton culture and language, and the hopes that children will continue speaking it. France is extremely reluctant to preserve its minority languages or let students learn in a language other than French, so I view this song as making a statement that their minority languages are valuable too.

Slovenia: Dan najlepših sanj

Artist: Regina (Irena Jalšovec)

Language: Slovenian

Key: E major, F♯ major

The beginning of this song blasts me in the face with yet another electronic swing drum rhythm that’s completely out of place with the orchestra. Take away those drums and slow down the song a tad, and you’d have a nice orchestral stage play song with a cool oboe part. But instead, this is a weird 90’s pop song with repetitive and distracting drums.

Netherlands: De eerste keer

Artist: Maxine (Gonny Buurmeester) and Franklin Brown (Franklin Kroonenberg)

Language: Dutch

Key: C major (verses), A major (chorus), B major (final chorus)

If I didn’t know better, I would’ve mistaken “hallo, ik ben Maxine” and “hallo, mijn naam is Franklin Brown” for German and English respectively. This happens a lot when I hear Dutch. It’s obvious to me that “de eerste” means “the first”, but I wouldn’t have guessed “keer” meant “time”, as in an instance or occasion.

Both in the postcard and the performance, this male and female duo beams with enthusiasm that reminds me of “I See a Star” from 1974. This is a rare Eurovision song where the chorus is good and the verses are bad. The choruses are nice and rousing and have some of that funky 90’s Dutch sound, but the verses and bridge sound a bit drab. Also, the ending is way too abrupt.

Belgium: Liefde is een kaartspel

Artist: Lisa del Bo

Language: Dutch, twice in a row

Key: C major, D♭ major

Sometimes due to the languages I know, I don’t need a translation for Dutch song titles. Obviously “liefde is een kaartspel” means “love is a card game”. Though I’m sure it’s not as transparent for people who don’t speak German.

This song is best known for a plagiarism controversy because the composers of this song (not the singer) thought “Listen to Your Heartbeat”, the Swedish entry in 2001, sounded too similar to this one. I’m convinced that the only reason anyone accuses songs of plagiarism is because they’re greedy for extra money. It’s the dumbest, most narcissistic shit and I hate it so much. Obviously some songs are going to sound vaguely similar to others, whether by inspiration or coincidence.

I actually enjoy this song quite a bit. Sure, it sounds like a Dutch cover of some random pop song by an ABBA knockoff band, but it’s nice and upbeat and Lisa radiates with enthusiasm. Her dress looks bizarre, but this is Dutch-speaking Belgium we’re talking about, so you may as well embrace it.

Ireland: The Voice (the winner)

Artist: Eimear Quinn

Language: English

Key: G major (intro), A minor

We’ve finally reached the last of Ireland’s seven Eurovision winners. This was composed by Brendan Graham, just like the winner of 1994. I really love that the last Irish winner was not an Irish ballad, but a Celtic sounding waltz that absolutely screams Ireland. In this sense, the winner is both the start and end of an era: the end of Ireland winning, and the start of folk music talking the prize.

A song titled “The Voice” better have a damn good voice. Luckily, this song does! Eimear Quinn has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever seen on the Eurovision stage. She sings a high soprano, yet avoids the pitfall of opera singers sounding unintelligible. Her voice sounds delicate yet confident, cinematic yet crystal-clear. Every word is easy to understand, which is a big factor in my enjoyment of songs. I’ve never liked when vocals in a song sound mumbly or indecipherable. Lyrics are best when sung clearly because I can understand the lyrics if I can speak the language, and can easily sing along if I can’t speak it.

The instrumental of this song is superb too, for all the same reasons as “Nocturne”, last year’s winner. It superimposes ethnic instruments (fiddle, flute, guitar) onto a rich, moving orchestra, it’s got a lot of great melodies, and it even uses some cinematic percussion. I’m really happy that Ireland’s last two winners were something different from their usual style of ballad. This means that the winners showcase the rich variety of Irish music, exactly as Eurovision should do. I’m confident that even if this song didn’t win the contest, it would still be a big fan favorite.

When it comes to Eurovision, Irish fans have a lot to be proud of. Each of their winners has something special about it, whether it’s a stellar vocal performance, a moving composition, or both. Unfortunately, Irish fans also have a lot to be embarrassed about. Though they scored second place the next year, it wouldn’t be long before Ireland stopped putting in the effort to score well. I’ll have to discover for myself whether any of their 21st century entries deserved better.

Finland: Niin kaunis on taivas

Artist: Jasmine Tatjana Anette Valentin

Language: Finnish

Key: A minor

Why did THIS of all songs score last place? By all accounts this should have scored quite well. It’s got a unique rhythm and genre, so you’d think it would stand out to the juries, but nope, they’re biased against Finland. It also barely made it to the final, having tied with Hungary who didn’t qualify.

This is a lovely Finnish-sounding country song by a woman on guitar with a strong, passionate voice. It also has great harmonies in the chorus, which reminds me of “Ding-a-Dong”. The lyrics are nice and heartfelt too: they’re about how beautiful the world seems when the singer is with her love interest. If I was watching in 1996, I would have been pissed off this song scored low, especially if I was from Finland. I would have probably thought Finland in Eurovision was a lost cause, like I sometimes feel about Germany today. Luckily, 2023 was the Finnish language’s redemption arc in Eurovision. If Finland keeps up the momentum after “Cha Cha Cha”, they could be a Eurovision power player for years to come.

For real, I hope I don’t forget about this song in the future! It really is lovely.

Iceland: Sjúbídú

Artist: Anna Mjöll Ólafsdóttir

Language: Icelandic

Key: B♭ major

In case you were wondering, “sjúbídú” isn’t a meaningful Icelandic word. It’s just a transcription of the nonsense phrase “shoobee-doo”, which is repeated throughout the song. It’s interesting to see the various attempts Iceland made at compensating for the obscurity of their language. Sometimes they sent unusual genres, sometimes they went for the namedropping technique, and this time, they did both. It’s a relaxed jazz song that namedrops tons of jazz musicians and songs.

Though I’m annoyed by the namedropping gimmick, I find this a pleasant song otherwise. It has good jazzy chords and vocal harmonies, which are two easy ways to win me over, as well as a lovely piano. I actually don’t mind all the repetitions of “shoobee-doo”. That’s because unlike so many other songs that repeat the title, it isn’t sung with the same melody every time. If the melody is varied, then repetition of the title becomes a lot more tolerable.

I get the feeling Anna would have sung this in English if she could, but I also believe it was originally written in Icelandic. I know this because the Icelandic lyrics have a line that means “from Skagaströnd (a tiny village in northern Iceland) to Timbuktu”. The English version replaces Skagaströnd with Antarctica, which I think makes the song more whimsical, because people don’t actually live in Antarctica full-time. I think replacing it with Alaska would’ve made more sense, because that’s an inhabited cold place English speakers know about. Considering the song is so heavy in namedropping, a gimmick normally intended to make songs easier to understand, I’m surprised Skagaströnd was mentioned in this song.

Poland: Chcę znać swój grzech

Artist: Kasia Kowalska

Language: Polish

Key: F♯ minor

Terry Wogan chickened out on pronouncing most of the Slavic songs’ titles. Normally I would have liked to see him try, but in this case, let’s be real: I would have chickened out too. He also warned us that this is going to be a depressing song, and he was right.

Songs like this prove that even if you don’t understand one word of the language, as is the case with me and Polish, a good composition will get through to the listener perfectly. I can imagine this song playing at the end of an anime movie, after the main characters defeat the giant mecha villain who has a grimdark backstory, and they reflect on the losses in their own crew, like the protagonist’s father who died before the movie began. I think it’s quite beautiful as a composition, but it’s too gloomy for me to regularly come back to it. I like it best when sad songs have a tinge of joy or hope.

One thing is indisputable: so far in the 1990’s, Poland hasn’t been afraid to experiment. It’s clear that “To nie ja”, their debut entry two years prior, gave them a huge boost of encouragement.

Bosnia and Herzegovina: Za našu ljubav

Artist: Amila Glamočak

Language: Serbo-Croatian (Bosnian)

Key: F major, F♯ major

Now we have a ballad with minimalist instrumentation: an electric piano, bassline, and drums, plus occasional strings. You need to be careful making songs with light instrumentation, because while simplicity can sometimes make a song beautiful, other times (like this song) it just sounds flat. Also, she’s overly waily at the key change. The final chorus tries to make things more interesting by changing the chord progression, but it only turns one major chord into a minor chord, and it sounds out of place.

Slovakia: Kým nás máš

Artist: Marcel Palonder

Language: Slovak

Key: A♭ major

Some of the newcomer Slavic countries knew how to make a splash in 1990’s Eurovision, and then you have Slovakia with their forgettable ballads. If Slovakia’s entry from Preselection for Millstreet qualified, then everything could have been different. But for now, you have a country that barely seems to give a damn about Eurovision.

Sweden: Den vilda

Artist: One More Time

Language: Swedish

Key: C major

One More Time is a trio of one man and two women. One of its members is the son of Benny Anderssen from ABBA, so scoring high in Eurovision seems to run in the family. This scored first place in the semifinal, and third place in the contest proper. This means that had the juries been different, this could have won Eurovision 1996!

Unlike the last two entries, the final song of this contest is absolutely beautiful. Taking cues from “Nocturne” last year, this is an enchanting atmospheric waltz whose lyrics tell the story of a mysterious man dancing in the wilderness. A speaker of any Germanic language should recognize at least a few words in the lyrics, like “vattenfall” (waterfall), “dansar” (dance), and “den vilda” (the wild one). I can also recognize “försvinner” as “verschwinden” (German: to disappear). Even though a truly great song transcends language barriers, the familiar words are a big advantage for me. The cognates with English and German show that different as all the Germanic languages are, their words related to nature demonstrate their shared origin.

The structure of this song also takes cues from “Nocturne”. It takes some simple, distinctive melodies in triple meter and incorporates them in varying ways throughout the song—sometimes in vocals, sometimes in instruments. It starts with just piano and vocals, but then it gradually surprises the listener by adding more and more instruments, often a few measures after a verse begins. I absolutely love when Eurovision songs have buildup from the start to end, rather than traditional verses and chorus. Aside from “Nocturne”, another example is the beautiful winner of 1977, “L’oiseau et l’enfant”.

This song’s staging is nice and memorable too. It features a man on piano, two women on lead vocals, and three backing vocalists. Although I usually prefer it when the lead singers harmonize, it suits this song well for the two girls to sing all the same notes. It makes the song feel rich and layered and emphasizes the specific notes of the melody rather than the contour. The singers are dramatic and expressive, yet they’re also greatly enjoying themselves. This brings me to discuss the mood of the song.

In my review of Poland’s song, I said that if a song sounds somber, I enjoy it the most if it also has a tinge of joy. This song is a perfect example, and I don’t mean because it’s in major key. Major key music can sound depressing too. This song sounds mysterious and a bit dark, yet at the same time cozy and warm. A big reason for this is the repetition of familiar melodies, and the buildup which feels almost like a campfire.

I would love it so much if Sweden sent more songs like this in the current day. I’m not saying I hate swedo-pop or anything—“Heroes” by Måns Zelmerlöw is an absolute banger—but I do wish Sweden would embrace the more traditional and ethnic sides of their music, like their Nordic neighbors sometimes do. This would make Sweden an even bigger Eurovision powerhouse than they already are.

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Who’s my favorite?

Before I started writing this post, I had a feeling I would choose Sweden, since I’ve heard that song a lot already. Ireland’s winner (which I’ve heard before, but not nearly as much) is a fair competitor and appealing for many of the same reasons. However, I prefer Sweden, Den vilda just a tad and thus will declare it my favorite of 1996. Both are very strong entries, but Sweden’s song has better melodies and is stickier in terms of structure.

• Austria, 1
• Belgium, 1
• Denmark, 1
• Finland, 3
• France, 3
• Germany, 4
• Iceland, 1
• Ireland, 4
• Israel, 2
• Luxembourg, 3
• Netherlands, 6
• Norway, 3
• Portugal, 2
• Sweden, 4
• Switzerland, 1
• Turkey, 1
• United Kingdom, 1
• (16 winners)

Still none of the newcomers from 1993 onwards on my list. I’ve heard they started getting better at Eurovision in the 2000s, whereas much of western Europe stagnated.

General thoughts:

The interval act was first a montage of Norwegian folk music and joiking performed on the natural scenery of Norway, then the Oslo Dance Ensemble performing whimsical dances and magic tricks live on stage. It kept me entertained, so it did its job as an interval act. This was also the first contest with an interval performance halfway through the songs: basically a patriotic showcase of people celebrating some Norwegian holiday.

I found the presenters enthusiastic but a bit faltering and stilted—a step down from Norway’s last presenter. I do like that they spoke some Norwegian here and there and, in the opening, said good evening to every single participating country in its own language. The voting sequence showed some technological innovations: the female host entered a blue room, which showed some computer-generated imagery including a 3D electronic scoreboard. Even 27 years later, that digital scoreboard looks futuristic and sick as fuck. I can’t believe this was before I was born!

Haha, of course during the voting, Terry Wogan became a wreck of laughter and remarked that the voting is unpredictable. He did this every year. I love that the Norwegian spokesperson appeared in person this year—such a clever surprise! The Netherlands had (to my knowledge) the first spokesperson who was a previous contestant: Marcha from 1987. Ireland wasn’t a runaway winner at first, but about a third of the way through the voting, they soared to the top.

As for the entries, this contest was a mixed bag but the good songs were real big gems. It felt like a “something for everyone” year, with songs ranging from ultra-cheerful (the UK) to ultra-gloomy (Poland) and everything in between. Ireland, Norway, and Sweden are a thematically fitting top three—all have a loosely similar vibe to the winner last year and show that in some cases, imitating last year’s winner works like a charm. Overall, this was a memorable year that I had a lot of fun reviewing.

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See you next time for the first contest with televoting and the last British victory.

>> 1997: Foreshadowing the Bonkers Era