Intro Post

< 2006 Semifinal | 2006 Final | 2007 Semifinal >

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Introduction

As with the last two years, the grand final of Eurovision 2006 (in Athens, Greece) featured 24 songs, ten of which had qualified from the semifinal. Overall the semifinal qualifiers scored much better than the finalists: ten of the top twelve (all but 4th and 9th place) had to get through the semifinal first. This was an early hint that the one-semifinal system needed an adjustment.

This year featured two changes to the voting. First, the countries voted in randomized order, which had only been previously done in 1974 and would be done every year up to 2010. Second, to speed up the voting sequence, the spokespersons announced only their eight, ten, and twelve points. Unfortunately, some spokespersons still were keen on hogging up their time in the spotlight, so this shortened the contest’s runtime only by 23 minutes. In all fairness, a lot of time was taken up by the extravagant opening acts. Greece did not hold back with those!

Finland scored their first ever victory this year with the iconic “Hard Rock Hallelujah”. In second place came Russian’s Dima Bilan, who would win two years later. And in third place was a Balkan ballad from Bosnia and Herzegovina, their highest result to this day. This is the second of four years in a row where all Big Four countries scored in the bottom half: the highest was Germany at 14th place. Although at least one Big Four/Five country has reached the top ten since 2009, these countries still have a less than great reputation in Eurovision (except Italy).

I couldn’t find the German commentary for this year, so I went back to Terry Wogan’s British commentary. I expect him to go extra-snarky once the voting begins. One more random fact: this was the first year in which the host country used the euro as their currency.

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Switzerland: If We All Give a Little

Artist: six4one

Language: English

Key: B minor (verses), B major (chorus), D major (final chorus)

In case I haven’t subjected you to enough rants about randomized ordering, I’m annoyed as hell that we won’t hear the first qualifier from the semifinal till song number 10. These long streaks of songs with a commonality, whether it be ballads, former Yugoslav countries, or automatic qualifiers, are exactly the kind of annoyances that arise from randomized order (but let’s be real, I’m most annoyed when it’s ballads).

I’m annoyed that this peace ballad came first, instead of something happy that gets the audience hyped. I’m also annoyed about the minor key verses and major key chorus—it takes me back to 1970’s Eurovision, and I don’t mean that in a good way. One last part that annoys me is the stompy beat when the final chorus begins. Basically this song is a mishmash of Eurovision tropes that I keep complaining about.

One trope that annoys me that I haven’t talked about as much is the choral songs where everyone takes a few measures to sing a solo, then they harmonize in the chorus. I’m not as annoyed if the singers’ skills are consistent, as is the case here, but this format of songs still gets on my nerves. This ensemble style only works if the audience already knows who’s who, like a musical number in a TV show or a reunion performance of iconic Eurovision names. Most of the audience has no idea who these guys are, so each of the singers showing off their skills just comes off as self-indulgent. It doesn’t help that the singers have totally inconsistent and random outfits.

This is one of Ralph Siegel’s weakest Eurovision songs. Why did he keep composing these dull peace anthems when he composed the ideal peace anthem for 1982? I’m disappointed that he used the minor verse, major chorus trope that annoys me so much.

Moldova: Loca

Artist: Arsenium featuring Natalia Gordienko and Connect-R. That’s three people in total.

Language: English, plus a few Spanish words mixed in

Key: A minor

Obligatory mention that Arsenium (Arsenie Todiraș) was a member of O-Zone, who you might know for the 2000’s Internet meme song “Dragostea Din Tei”. Some people think that song is from Eurovision, but they’re probably mixing it up with “Run Away” which is also from Moldova. Now that I think of it, I’m not too far away from Epic Sax Guy. Also, since I mentioned the real names of the other two singers, Connect-R is named Ștefan Relu Mihalache.

I’m afraid Moldova fell flat this year. This is the kind of chill hip-hop song that you can happily put on while driving (which my dad does every time I’m in a car with him), but it’s too low energy to suit Eurovision and the fadeout ending annoys me. It’s also weird as hell that Natalia strips down to a bikini while everyone else keeps their clothes on. Luckily she would return 15 years later with a Eurovisiony bop, while wearing a less revealing but much more sexy outfit.

Israel: Together We Are One

Artist: Eddie Butler

Language: English and Hebrew. Did Israel think this was Junior Eurovision?

Key: C major, D♭ major

I haven’t talked about the postcards yet, so I’ll do so here. They feature the usual scenery of Greece, which is a decent format but I always prefer when they tie into the country or contestants. In particular, the transitions to flags in the 1998 postcards were delightful. Each postcard opened with one of three different women waving a banner, which Terry Wogan snarked about because of course he did. I can’t blame him at all.

The title sounds like that of a peace ballad, but it’s actually a marriage ballad. It’s got a bit of gospel flair and Eddie sings it with enthusiasm, but unfortunately the chorus is a real dud and the song is too ballady anyway. It switches to an upbeat gospel pop song during the key change, and one of his backing singers even sings a showy long note. We’ll get a much better long note from Ukraine this year. Maybe the mood shift near the end is supposed to represent the satisfying payoff of being married, but it’s jarring to switch the mood just for the last 30 seconds.

Latvia: I Hear Your Heart

Artist: Vocal Group Cosmos

Language: English

Key: C major, which gradually transitions a half step up into D♭ major presumably by accident, then E major, then arguably C♯ minor or arguably still E major which both have the key signature so it’s always difficult to decide whether such transitions are really key changes, actually part after the first chorus makes me inclined to think it stayed in E major this whole time, then they sing the chorus again in G major, and finally they end on an E major chord.

This is the first of two entirely acapella songs in Eurovision history, and in my opinion the worse of the two. I have quite a soft spot for acapella music because it combines two musical features I’m fond of: vocal harmonies and jazzy chords. This song has plenty of both things, but unfortunately it’s unfocused in structure and crams too many musical ideas into three minutes, as you can see from the description of the key. “With Love Baby”, the other acapella entry, did this style so much better.

Even though neither of the acapella entries scored that well (this landed 16th place), I think the genre has lots of untapped potential in Eurovision. The only acapella music I’ve ever heard is either in no language or in English, so I’m curious how this genre would sound in other languages. The rhythm of English means it’s suited to syncopated melodies that mix long and short notes, especially if they’re in a swing rhythm. I bet this style of music would sound totally different with the rhythm of French, for example.

Norway: Alvedansen

Artist: Christine Guldbrandsen

Language: Norwegian

Key: G minor (chorus), D minor (verses)

Shoutouts to Norway for being the first ever Nordic country to bring back their native language! This was the only native-language song in Melodi Grand Prix 2006, yet it miraculously won the contest. It was the last Eurovision song in Norwegian for 18 years, but they’ll bring their language back in 2024 and I’m so excited about it!!! But I’m also jealous that Germany isn’t doing the same.

This song feels like it came from an alternate timeline where the language rule was never abolished. I think that in such a timeline, the Nordic countries would have continued their path in the 1990’s and showcased the mysterious, atmospheric sides of their music. Alternately, one could view it as Norway’s answer to the recent ethnic entries that scored so well.

For the most part, this is quite a lovely song—it’s got an atmospheric vibe, a rhythm that suits the Norwegian language well, and some great fiddle parts—but it’s not as good as other Nordic folk entries we’ve seen, like “Nocturne” or “Den vilda”. It’s a bit tough to put my finger on why it falls short of those: at first I thought it was because the drum beat and bassline anchor this song to 2000’s pop, but “Sanomi” did the same and I was perfectly fine with it.

I thought about it a little more, then I figured out my main problem with this song. To make a slow-paced ethnic song work, it’s best to start subtle and gradually build up. That’s what the three songs I mentioned earlier did so well, as well as “Lane moje” and so many other Balkan ballads. On the other hand, “Alvedansen” keeps mostly the same level of energy throughout. It starts with a little introduction to the chorus, then plays the first verse and chorus, then the second verse and chorus sound basically the same.

The best part of this song is the bridge, because it’s the part most oriented upon buildup. It starts with teasing a bit of major key, then reaches a climax that leads firmly into minor key. Then the instrumentation calms down a tad to lead into the final chorus. If the whole song was more like its bridge section, I would be head over heels for it. I do like this song and could happily listen to it, but there are others of its type that I enjoy far more.

I wish this song scored higher than just 14th place, but voters must have flocked towards other ethnic tunes. Still, this song encouraged Norway to continue experimenting with their style to the present day. The rest of western Europe should take notes from Norway! They’re my favorite Nordic country in Eurovision, especially in the 21st century. I had a hunch they would bring one of the best entries in 2024 and I was right.

EDIT (Sep 29, 2024): As is so common with songs where I think “I would absolutely love this if it weren’t for X”, I eventually forgave X and now I truly love this. I still think the bridge is the highlight of the song.

Spain: Un blodymary

Artist: Las Ketchup, who had a hit song in 2002

Language: Spanish

Key: C minor, E♭ minor

This is part 2 of Spain trying to capitalize off the popularity of “Aserejé”. Last year they had the same songwriter, this year the same singers. I think it was a mistake to send a slow song from them, instead of an upbeat one with rapid-fire lyrics like last year’s “Brujería”, which I relistened to and it’s starting to grow on me. I do like the jazzy chords in this song, but there’s too much going on stage and the singers drift off key at times. They would have had a better stage presence if they sang a faster song.

Malta: I Do

Artist: Fabrizio Faniello, returning from 2001

Language: English

Key: B♭ major, B major

It’s amazing how much Eurovision improved in just five years. Fabrizio Faniello sang a boring Eurodance song in 2001 and got ninth place; this time, he sang an equally boring Eurodance song and got last place with only one point. Well deserved, because he sounds dreadfully flat and is way too quiet. I’m thankful that the Eurodance soup era of Eurovision was nowhere near as long as the ballad soup era.

Germany: No No Never

Artist: Texas Lightning

Language: English

Key: D major, E major

Another country song in Eurovision, yay! I’m always charmed by the way Eurovision approaches this overly hated genre. The guitars, brushy drum beat, and rhythm of the melody all make me involuntarily smile. The one problem is that this song barely has any vocal harmonies, which are what makes country entries shine the brightest (e.g. Never Ever Let You Go, Calm After the Storm). One of the band members is harmonizing with her in the chorus, but he’s almost inaudible. I’m also not a big fan of the singer’s pink dress; it’s out of place among the guys’ beige suits.

I badly wish this song had more vocal harmonies, and that it had a German version. Maybe I was spoiled too much by the harmonies in “Never Ever Let You Go” from 2001. Other than that, I can’t stay mad at this upbeat country tune. Everything about it just makes me go “d’awww”. I’m glad Germany regained their momentum after their disastrous entry in 2005. Yes, I know it scored only 14th place, but I like the song and that’s what matters.

Denmark: Twist of Love

Artist: Sidsel Ben Semmane

Language: English

Key: A major

This is a very American-sounding song, but in an endearing way. It feels like an homage to the upbeat rock songs about romantic troubles you’d hear in an American high school movie, especially since it name drops fictional characters that only exist within the song. It mostly doesn’t have instruments on stage, except a brief guitar solo by a guy who comes in midway through the song, then dances his heart out for the rest of the performance.

The one thing I don’t like about this song are the girls’ white outfits. Those are the kinds of costumes you’d wear when singing a mysterious folk song like “Alvedansen”, not an upbeat rock song about a guy named Johnny dancing at a party. Why couldn’t they have dressed in bright colors like red and blue? We’ve had a few songs over the years where the singers dressed as college students for some baffling reason, but this is a song where college student outfits would have actually fit.

Russia: Never Let You Go

Artist: Dima Bilan, who would win in 2008

Language: English

Key: G minor

Out of all the 2000’s entries named some variant of “Never Let You Go”, this is easily the most famous which is a shame because it should be “Never Ever Let You Go”, the awesome country song from 2001.

In many ways, this is a typical Russian 21st century entry. A synth pop song with a catchy melody, sung in heavily accented English, and a performance that does something outlandish but isn’t full-out chaotic. In this case, the outlandish thing is the woman dressed and painted in white who bursts out of the piano. I think the song was meant to emulate “Solo” from 2000, Russia’s best result at the time. Just like “Solo” this song got second place.

I don’t particularly care about this song, but it’s pleasant enough to listen to and I can see why it scored highly. It’s one of those Eurovision songs that predictably scores well but doesn’t pique my interest. Dima Bilan has a good stage presence and the song has a catchy melody, plus the piano gimmick made viewers remember the performance for the rest of the contest. I don’t think any viewers during the voting thought, “wait, what was Russia’s song again?”

The original Russian version of this song is called “Так устроен этот мир” (that’s how the world is made) and it’s a very Russian-sounding dark pop song. Unsurprisingly it sounds way more natural than the English version, but Russia knew that most viewers at the time didn’t care about this sort of thing. Times have changed since then, as shown by the huge amount of native-language songs set to compete in 2024. Germany should hop on this trend too, god dammit.

North Macedonia: Ninanajna (Нинанајна)

Artist: Elena Risteska

Language: English, plus a bit of Macedonian at the end

Key: B minor

Here’s some silly trivia: Before the country was renamed to North Macedonia, this was the only year where the scoreboard wrote “Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia” in full, instead of “FYR Macedonia”. Could this have something to do with Greece insisting that the name “Macedonia” should only belong to them?

In this blog, I usually don’t blame results I disagree with on bloc voting, but North Macedonia was clearly bloc voted into the final this year. They scored 76 points in this final, 53 of which came from Balkan countries—61 if you count Turkey. I’m thankful that I don’t care much about any of the non-qualifiers, or else I’d be salty about this.

As a song, this tries to be an ethnic Balkan pop tune. It has a catchy melody for sure, but it relies too much on that melody and is overall too repetitive and restrained. Plus she’s a little off key in the final, which she wasn’t in the semifinal. In the final, the results came even more from bloc voting: it scored 56 points, 39 of which came from Balkan countries, 45 if you count Turkey as Balkan.

Romania: Tornerò

Artist: Mihai Trăistariu

Language: English and Italian

Key: C♯ minor, D minor

Much like Poland, Romania started a short multilingual phase with this song. Though most of the lyrics are in English and the Italian part is just a repeated chorus. This makes me wonder, what kind of entries would Italy have sent to 2000’s Eurovision? I don’t have to wonder too much, because I could just listen to the Sanremo winners.

I think the smoke effects on the stage are supposed to look cool and badass, but if I was on stage I’d think “shit shit shit, I have to turn off the stove and open all my doors and windows before the smoke detector starts beeping”. I’m surprised this song scored as high as 4th place: it sounds like Eurodance a decade out of date and the singer alternates between being breathy and shouty. But maybe the audience liked this sort of retro song, what do I know?

Bosnia and Herzegovina: Lejla

Artist: Hari Mata Hari

Language: Serbo-Croatian (Bosnian)

Key: F♯ minor, G♯ minor

Now we’ve made it to the second half of the grand final, which is where they put most of the good stuff! This is Bosnia’s highest Eurovision result at third place, and boy was it well deserved. It was the only time Bosnia ever reached the top five.

Given that I was so positive about “Lane moje” and this song has the same composer, you probably won’t be surprised that I love this song just as much. Željko Joksimović is an absolute genius and no one composes Balkan ballads better than him. This song has all of the same compositional tropes as “Lane moje”, so in this review I’d like to dive deeper into why his Balkan ballads are so good.

As a genre, I absolutely fucking love Balkan ballads. They’re intriguing and enchanting and full of delightful buildup from start to finish. Since most of the Balkan countries speak Slavic languages, the singing style tends to be slow and freeform. The one problem with Balkan ballads is that because of the slow singing, it’s hard to give them catchy melodies, especially compared to upbeat pop music or ethno-bops.

Željko’s ballads don’t have this problem, because he knows how to write memorable melodies that fit the genre of Balkan ballads. Both “Lane moje” and “Lejla” have a main melody that’s repeated throughout the song, and since these songs are full of buildup, the repetition of these melodies never gets tiring. It helps that these primary melodies are played first in instruments, then in vocals, then in both at once. In these two Balkan ballads, Željko finds the perfect balance between familiarity (by revisiting the melody) and variety (by building up the structure).

I think the balance of familiarity and variety is why I get a burst of wow whenever a new section begins, both in “Lane moje” and “Lejla”. It feels musically satisfying whenever the main melody returns, and intriguing when the song explores some new territory. This song’s structure feels like it’s telling a story entirely through music. It does have lyrics, of course; they’re about the gloom of remembering a love interest who left the singer behind named Lejla. Even though I can’t speak the language of the song, I feel the meaning of these lyrics just through its composition. This is a song that everyone can understand, no matter which language they speak.

This song is beautifully staged as well; it feels like I am watching a music video in person. It starts off with the instrumentalists seated or standing in corners, looking mournful as the lead singer stands alone. As the song builds up, the instrumentalists join him in mourning his old love, then during the climax, they set aside their instruments and walk with him to the front of the stage. They disperse once more at the end and it fits so naturally with the song in a way I can’t describe. I may know a lot about music composition, but I’m no expert in choreography. If I was a choreographer reviewing Eurovision, the first two decades would be really boring.

I remember as I was going through 1990’s Eurovision, I was impatient to hear those Balkan ballads that I’ve heard so much praise about. It’s been such a payoff to finally reach the Balkan ballad era! These kinds of songs pique the interest of all of Europe, not just their fellow Balkans.

Lithuania: We Are the Winners

Artist: LT United, a group created for the sole purpose of this song

Language: English, plus two phrases in French

Key: F♯ major

Time for extreme mood whiplash! Funny that when people talk about “mood whiplash”, they usually mean something silly coming after something serious, not the other way around.

I’ve already heard this song many times and always found it one of the funniest joke entries, but it always seemed random that Lithuania of all countries sent this song. Now I understand why: Lithuania had previously never sent anything memorable to Eurovision. I, for one, can barely remember how any of their previous entries sound. They decided it would improve their fortunes if they sent a bunch of guys chanting “we are the winners of Eurovision”. This idea was crazy enough to work! These guys qualified to the finals, then at the end of the contest landed in sixth place. This song is ten times funnier now that I have this context.

There is a good reason this song qualified to the final and Iceland didn’t: “Congratulations” was laughing at Eurovision, whereas “We Are the Winners” is laughing with Eurovision. Iceland’s song was over-the-top spiteful, designed above all else to piss the audience off. Lithuania’s song, on the other hand, is very silly and lighthearted, so it works much better as a joke entry. Silvia Night got overwhelmingly booed on stage, while LT United got some booing but were dominated by cheers.

I don’t care what anyone says: I unironically love this song. It’s such a stupid and silly song, but it’s got some good energy and synths to hype me up and it’s genuinely fun to listen to. Plus, the performance is total hilarity. It mostly consists of six guys in business suits chanting that they’re the winners of Eurovision, and that the audience should vote for them, with some megaphone shenanigans added in. The bald guy is my hero. I love how the he stands there silently for most of the song, dances like a lunatic during the crazy violin solo, then goes back to standing silently. His dancing is the best part of the entire song.

The funniest part about this song is that it’s still Lithuania’s best ever Eurovision ranking, as well as their best known entry. It’s not quite my favorite Lithuanian entry: that would probably be the delightful “Sentimentai” from 2022. But I haven’t heard most Lithuanian entries between these two, so I’m prepared to be surprised.

United Kingdom: Teenage Life

Artist: Daz Sampson

Language: English

Key: G major

It’s so jarring to see Terry Wogan speak positively about this song, because it’s exactly the kind of entry he would have made fun of if it wasn’t from the UK or Ireland. He didn’t actually sound excited commentating on this song, just his regular fake “the UK is automatically the best” attitude. I’ve seen him be genuinely excited about British and Irish entries and this isn’t it.

Anyway, this is the first of two years in a row where the UK decided “ooh, we should send a joke entry too!” and totally missed the point. This is just an annoying rap song with a four-chord progression and a chorus with exaggerated Cockney accents. Why does this have to use the same four chords all the way through?! It’s possible for me to like a song that only has one chord progression throughout (such as “Uno” by Little Big, which uses only two chords) but in most instances, when the whole song has only one chord progression I’m left wanting more.

Greece: Everything

Artist: Anna Vissi, returning from 1980 (Greece) and 1982 (Cyprus)

Language: English

Key: F major, F♯ major

Greece took a break from ethno-bops this year and sent a power ballad by one of their most famous names. It’s fast for a ballad, but it still has that ballad feel to it. The lyrics are about a woman who wants to break up with her love interest who’s treated her terribly, but also knows it’ll hurt to let go. Her style of singing, which starts off calm but gets increasingly dramatic and desperate, fits these lyrics perfectly. She gives a strong solo performance and the smoke effects work better in this song than with Romania, but it’s too much of a ballad to click with me.

Finland: Hard Rock Hallelujah (the winner)

Artist: Lordi

Language: English

Key: G minor

Now we’ve reached the icon itself. It’s one of the “starter kit” Eurovision songs, one of the first that comes to mind when anyone thinks of Eurovision, and thus one of the first songs that a new Eurovision fan learns about (like me a year and a half ago). I consider it the number one most iconic Eurovision song other than the “wait, that was Eurovision?” songs like “Volare” or “Waterloo”—in other words, the most iconic Eurovision song that people know is from Eurovision. If I was writing this blog post a decade ago (which would be in 2014), I might have been hesitant to apply this label due to recency bias, but this song has stood the test of time.

“But what about Euphoria, or Love Shine a Light, or Hold Me Now?” I hear you ask. “And didn’t Fairytale win by the largest landslide ever? Or Fuego and SloMo, are those too recent?” For one thing, yes, the latter two are too recent. I would say that anything in the past ten years cannot be called the most iconic Eurovision song, because everyone has recency bias and the newer songs haven’t left a decades-long impression yet.

As for the other four songs I mentioned, what does “iconic” mean exactly? It means having the characteristics of an icon. An icon is a person or thing that is immediately recognizable by the average person—either the average person in the entire world, or the average in a subset of people being talked about. The Eiffel Tower is an icon. The moon landing photo is an icon. Steve Jobs revealing the iPhone to the world is an icon. These are all images that are drilled into the average person’s head and instantly make them think of related topics. When we’re talking specifically about Eurovision fans, what songs are their biggest icons?

If we’re thinking strictly in terms of songs, “Volare” or “Waterloo” would be the most iconic Eurovision song. If we want to stick to songs that people typically associate with Eurovision, “Euphoria” is a strong candidate, as are “Hold Me Now”, “Love Shine a Light”, and “Fairytale”. But Eurovision was never only about the songs. Even in its oldest days, the contest was also about how well the singer could perform live, and arguably how well the orchestra played it. Starting in the 1970’s, it was also about the visual appeal of the performances.

By this logic, the most iconic Eurovision song has to be iconic both in terms of music and performance. Alexander Rybak on the violin is iconic, sure, but is it as iconic as the guys in monster costumes shredding on guitar? Remember, I defined iconic as immediately recognizable by the average person, or in this case the average person who knows about Eurovision. The monster costumes, the hat with the Finnish flag, and the wings that grow leading up to the final chorus are the definition of iconic.

As badass as they are, it’s not just the costumes that make this song work. At the root of any good Eurovision performance is the song itself. We’ve had a handful of rock entries till now, and a greater number after Lordi won, but this is more than just another aggressive rock song. It’s a total banger with its own distinctive personality. The pumping guitar rhythms and strong use of synth keyboards give it a 1980’s-inspired feel. Mr. Lordi’s singing style is aggressive and raspy, yet focused on the melody at the same time. And the lyrics about angels and demons starting the “Arockalypse” don’t come off as cheesy at all, but genuinely badass and rousing.

Through just this one song, Lordi showed the world that they have a unique musical style and personality and ensured that anyone who sees their performance will never forget it. You watch the performance once, and it permanently sticks in your brain. That is why I consider “Hard Rock Hallelujah” the most iconic Eurovision song, with an asterisk.

I have two tiny nitpicks in the lyrics, specifically the line “the true believers, thou shall be saved”. The main one is that “thou” is actually a singular pronoun, not a plural pronoun. Back when “thou” was a regularly used part of the English language, it was used to address one person except in polite contexts, where one would use the plural pronoun: “you”. So one would say “thou” to their friends and family, but never address multiple people as “thou”. The second nitpick is that it should technically be “thou shalt be saved”, but I think that if the English language kept the word “thou”, the second-person verb conjugation “-st” or “-t” would have still disappeared except for “thou art”. Or maybe it would have merged with the third-person “-s” conjugation? I can forgive Mr. Lordi for this error, because “the true believers, you shall be saved” just doesn’t have the same impact.

It’s always interesting to reach a super-iconic Eurovision winner, because I now have the context of all the previous years. For some winners like “Waterloo” and “My Number One”, the country had been building up for years to that song. “Hard Rock Hallelujah” on the other hand came out of nowhere! After so many years of bad luck, even after the language rule was abolished, Finland decided they’d never win with something normal and went as bonkers as they possibly could. But crucially, they made sure to send a good song in the process. Sending Lordi to Eurovision paid off, and their victory was a triumph for the entire country.

One could argue that Lordi in Eurovision didn’t completely come out of nowhere. If you look through Finland’s Eurovision history before 2006, you’ll find that two of their best results are with songs that go out of the box: “Old Man Fiddle” in 1975, and “La dolce vita” in 1989, both of which scored 7th place. So it’s only natural that when Finland finally won the contest, it was with one of the craziest performances in Eurovision history. Finland is an unusual European country in terms of culture and language, so in Eurovision they do best when they embrace being unusual.

The victory of this song broke the pattern of ethno-bops winning, but it continued the pattern of countries winning with an accessible song that represents their musical culture. So it’s really the perfect first winner for Finland. These dark metal bands with fictional backstories are huge in the Nordic countries, especially Finland, so this song serves as a gateway drug into their music. These bands’ popularity reaches overseas; I know a few Americans who are obsessed with these types of Nordic rock bands, like Ghost and Nightwish.

One more thing I should mention is that the album version of this song is four minutes long and features an organ solo at the start, plus a guitar breakdown after the second chorus. Both these sections were cut to comply with the length rule, which I think was the right way to do it. Removing these two segments made the song well-suited for the contest, since a good Eurovision performance keeps the audience engaged in every second.

This is now my second longest review of a Eurovision song, and my second to surpass a thousand words! “Guildo hat euch lieb!” was slightly longer.

Ukraine: Show Me Your Love

Artist: Tina Karol

Language: English

Key: E minor

This is an archetypical mid-2000’s Eurovision song: bouncy instrumental, insanely catchy chorus, simple lyrics in English, and a flashy energetic performance. I think the lyrics are a little too simplistic, but on the other hand, when you’re aiming to appeal to the widest international audience as possible, simple English lyrics are a logical choice. She gives an awesome performance that keeps the audience engaged, exactly as a Eurovision song should do. Plus, she absolutely nails the long note at the end.

I’m pretty sure this song has the farthest apart fire/desire rhyme of any Eurovision entry: she sings “my heart is on fire” in the first verse and “show me your desire” in the second verse.

France: Il était temps

Artist: Virgine Pouchain

Language: French

Key: C minor

This year, France went for a mellow song with guitar and cello and scored near the bottom at 22nd place. I love a good mellow entry, but this song is much too restrained to click with viewers, especially in 2000’s Eurovision. It especially seems like a dud right after Ukraine. Virgine sings a little off key at times, unfortunately.

Unlike many Big Four entries of the time, I think this had the potential to do well. It could have scored higher if it had more engaging staging, something along the lines of “Lejla”. This song has only the singer and a cellist on stage standing still; why not include a guitarist and drummer? That would have brought the song to life. It makes sense that eastern Europe understood the importance of good staging better than western Europe did, since the countries in the east are newer to the contest.

Croatia: Moja štikla

Artist: Severina Vučković

Language: Serbo-Croatian (Croatian)

Key: B minor, C minor, B minor, C♯ minor. Or at least, that’s one interpretation.

I think I’m starting to understand why the former Yugoslav countries sing in their national languages so often. It’s because they want to use Eurovision to give other countries an image of their cultures. This song in particular was the subject of debates: some fans thought it sounded too much like Serbian ethnic music and wanted Croatia to send something more modern, whereas others felt it was accurate to the Croatian ethnic tradition. I think part of why fans wanted Croatia to send a modern song was because the country was a candidate to join the European Union (which they eventually joined in 2013).

This song has a fun performance, but like “Quién maneja mi barca” or “Bana Bana”, it’s one of those Eurovision songs that I think is too ethnic. It’s got a fun performance for sure, but the call and response chanting, the hectic violin riffs, and the jumpy key changes are all a bit much for me.

Predictably, most of this song’s points came from former Yugoslav countries: 42 points out of 56. I think that’s exactly the strategy Croatia was going for. Compare this against Bosnia and Herzegovina’s entry, which is Balkan-sounding but in a more internationally appealing way.

Ireland: Every Song Is a Cry for Love

Artist: Brian Kennedy

Language: English

Key: G major

This song achieved 10th place, so it’s the second last time Ireland reached the top ten—the most recent was eighth place in 2011. It’s a super slow and dreary Irish ballad, so I’m surprised it even qualified from the semifinal. I can sort of see why it did relatively well in the final, since it came immediately after Croatia’s hyper-ethnic song. It stood out from what came before, thus it captured the attention of fans who like Irish ballads. I don’t like Irish ballads that much myself, unless they’re sung by Niamh Kavanagh.

Sweden: Invincible

Artist: Carola Häggkvist, returning from 1983 and 1991 (the latter of which she won)

Language: English

Key: F♯ major, A♭ major

This was the last time a Swedish-language song won Melodifestivalen, and as with every other time Sweden got the chance, they localized this song into English. One thing that never changes is that Carola bursts with energy whenever she performs. Other than that, this is just another aggressively cheerful 2000’s ultra-Swedish schlager. The song doesn’t hype me up or even engage me, it just shouts at me for three minutes. If I was watching in 2006 (with my current musical tastes, instead of 7-year-old me’s musical tastes), I would’ve been scared that this could win, then relieved that she didn’t.

This song has a strange commonality with “Tattoo”, the winner of 2023 (which was also sung by a returning winner): both songs did not get twelve points from any country’s televoters, because the voters liked Finland far more.

Turkey: Süper Star

Artist: Sibel Tüzün

Language: Turkish in the semifinal; Turkish and English in the final

Key: F minor, G minor

Obligatory mention that this is the only Eurovision song whose language was changed between the semifinal and the final.

I don’t hate this song as much as Erica does, but I do find it rather lacking for its genre. A disco pop song with a bit of Turkish flair should be a plus for me, but it just falls flat in so many ways. The spoken word in the second verse bugs me, and there’s something annoying about the repeated high notes in each chorus. The whole song has the same level of energy throughout, so there’s no sections that hype me up and none that feel like catching breath.

This song has an English version and surprisingly enough, a mixed English/Greek version. Sibel’s pronunciation of Greek is clearly non-native: she pronounces the S sound like a clear S, not the sound halfway between “s” and “sh” that’s characteristic of Greek. The English version is a little stilted too: in particular, the pause between “I am no ordinary” and “person” is awkward. I’m guessing the writer of the English lyrics read the Turkish lyrics but didn’t hear the song itself.

Armenia: Without Your Love

Artist: André Sergeyi Hovnanyan

Language: English

Key: A minor, B minor

Welcome the first of the Caucasus trio to Eurovision! All three Caucasus countries have a different approach to Eurovision: Armenia aims for ethno-bops, Azerbaijan focuses on accessible jury bait, and Georgia does whatever the hell they want. If you’ve been following my blog up to this point, you can guess which of the three approaches is my favorite. Armenia has never won the contest, but they did score fourth place twice (2008 and 2014). Their most famous entry might be “Snap” from 2022, one of my personal “wait, that was Eurovision?” songs.

Did someone say bop, by any chance? Because this song is a total bop. It’s an Armenian counterpart to “Every Way That I Can” and “My Number One”: a complex stage performance that’s fun to watch, easy-to-understand lyrics about romance, heavy use of ethnic instruments, and a whole package of catchy melodies. The first verse is a little weak, but from the first chorus onwards I’m totally sold. The bass and guitar in the chorus use a 3-5 rhythm (1.5 beats, 2.5 beats; think of the synth chords in “Billie Jean” by Michael Jackson), which is absolutely perfect for these kinds of ethnic tunes. The very same rhythm is prominent in “Hora din Moldova”, another ethno-bop that I love.

Another thing I like about this song is the way it changes key. It doesn’t just repeat the final chorus in a different key, but instead has a long instrumental bridge that transitions into the new key. These are the kinds of key changes I actually like: the ones that add something new to the song and don’t just pad it out. As a nice bonus, this song has a dramatic but not overstated ending! Parts of the chorus aren’t grammatically sound, like “What I lose, what I find without your love”—shouldn’t it be “what do I lose, what do I find”? But I can forgive the janky grammar because this song is such a bop.

I’m so thankful that the contest ended on a high note this year! The same note that it started with, as a matter of fact—this song was at the beginning of semifinal 1. I’m very pleased that Armenia not only qualified on their first try, but even reached the top ten (8th place specifically). Now I’m excited to see what Armenia will send in the next few years.

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Who’s my favorite?

As I was writing this post, I debated with myself between two songs that I already knew about: the Balkan ballad from Bosnia and Herzegovina, and the monster rock song from Finland. Both are very strong entries that deserved to score high, so I had to think about it for a little while. In the end, I leaned towards Bosnia and Herzegovina, Lejla because it wows me more consistently. Man, there’s just something special about Balkan ballads.

• Belgium, 2 (1976, 2003)
• Bosnia and Herzegovina, 1 (2006)
• Denmark, 3 (1963, 2000, 2001)
• Finland, 3 (1968, 1983, 1989)
• France, 3 (1977, 1990, 1991)
• Germany, 4 (1956, 1979, 1982, 1999)
• Hungary, 1 (2005)
• Iceland, 1 (1992)
• Ireland, 4 (1970, 1980, 1993, 1994)
• Israel, 1 (1987)
• Italy, 1 (1958)
• Latvia, 1 (2002)
• Luxembourg, 4 (1961, 1965, 1972, 1988)
• Netherlands, 7 (1957, 1959, 1964, 1967, 1969, 1975, 1998)
• Norway, 5 (1960, 1966, 1973, 1985, 1995)
• Portugal, 2 (1971, 1984)
• Serbia and Montenegro, 1 (2004)
• Sweden, 2 (1974, 1996)
• Switzerland, 1 (1986)
• Turkey, 2 (1978, 1997)
• United Kingdom, 2 (1962, 1981)
• (20 winners)

Congratulations to Željko Joksimović for making my list twice! And an honorable mention to the strong debut from Armenia.

General thoughts:

I had expected the diversity of Eurovision songs to decrease when the language rule was abolished. Although they became more samey starting in 1999, this year the songs have been more diverse than ever before! This is the kind of Eurovision year I love the most: the one when the lineup of songs has something for everyone. Eurodance fans, ballad enjoyers, ethno-bop lovers, rock enthusiasts, swedo-pop connoisseurs, and even joke entry afficionados will find something to enjoy in this year.

The presentation was decent enough, but not jaw-dropping amazing like all those Irish contests. I liked the hosts for the most part, but in the voting they were awkward and unprepared to handle the spokesperson shenanigans. I wasn’t big on the postcards this year: as I said earlier, I wish they tied into the contestants or participating countries, or had a special recurring theme like the fairy tale ones from 2002. Maybe after I’ve reviewed each year of Eurovision, I could make a blog post ranking each year’s postcards.

Nana Mouskouri (remember her from 1963?) opened the voting, the obligatory recap played, and Helena Paparizou sang a new song till the ten minutes of voting ended. Then came exactly the interval act I expected Greece to do: a retelling of Greek history in musical form, called “4000 Years of Greek Song”. It was no Riverdance, but it was plenty of fun.

I’m really glad the voting was sped up this year, but this often resulted in countries naming either three of their neighbors, or two of their neighbors and Finland. Not all the eight to twelve points came from bloc voting: Finland, Bosnia, Romania, and Sweden got points from all around the continent, and there were a few miscellaneous surprises. Russia in televote-era Eurovision got more overpowered the more former Soviet countries joined. When Georgia and Azerbaijan debut, Russia will get even more free points.

Unfortunately, some of the spokespersons made up for their shortened screen time by being as annoying as possible. Singing a song called “Dodeka” in place of a particularly obvious twelve points isn’t as funny as the spokesperson thinks it is (though the following “Grèce, douze points” made me laugh), and neither is pretending to give twelve points to your own country. One particularly infamous spokesperson doesn’t deserve to be namedropped here. Just know that everything about him annoys the fuck out of me and his voice is like nails on a chalkboard.

One other shenanigan worth noting: The Serbian spokesperson for S+M said, “We don’t have a song for you this year, but we promise that next year we will give you the best one.” As it turns out, Serbia would fulfill this promise.

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Wow, this turned out to be my longest Eurovision blog post yet! I’m not too surprised since I said so much about “Lejla” and “Hard Rock Hallelujah”. I’ll continue through this project undeterred—see you next time for the trio of joke entry years, part 2.

>> 2007 (Semifinal): A Near-Complete Map, but at What Cost?