Intro Post

< 2009 Semifinals | 2009 Final | 2010 Semifinals >

Eurovision season is really shaping up. We’ve now heard almost all the participating songs—only Azerbaijan is left, and their song will be out tomorrow. And an exciting change is coming to the semifinals: now the Big Five and host country will each perform in the semifinal they vote in, interspersed amidst the competitors. That should alleviate the disadvantage that the audience only hears their songs once.

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Introduction

“Good evening and welcome to the Eurovision Song Contest 2009, coming to you live from Moscow. I’m Graham Norton… I, I miss Terry too. I’m sorry, he’s not here.” These are the first ever words from our new friend, the legendary Graham Norton. Well, not the first words he spoke after coming out of his mom’s belly, but the first words he spoke as a British Eurovision commentator. Like Terry Wogan, he’s originally from Ireland and has a famously snarky sense of humor. He makes an active effort to replicate Terry Wogan’s humor, but while Terry always had a love-hate relationship with Eurovision, beneath Graham Norton’s sarcastic jokes lies a genuine love for the contest.

The opening act blew my mind in so many ways: first a grandiose performance from Cirque de Soleil, then a reprise of “Believe” (the winner of 2008) with zipline stunts and crashing through walls. It continues to amaze me that Russia went all out with hosting Eurovision.

I’m not sure why Russia saved the actually good hosts for the final though. They’re so much more competent than the previous hosts and are much better with their English and French. One of the hosts is Ivan Urgant, a Russian TV host who ran a talk show that was canceled in 2022 because he spoke out against the war in Ukraine. The other host is Alsou, who sang for Russia in 2000 when she was only 16 years old and scored second place. She’s such a confident presenter, oh my god! These two should have hosted the entire show, not just the semifinal.

In third place came Azerbaijan, who debuted only a year prior and frequently sent songs intended to win, very much like Russia. Iceland scored second place for the second and latest time with a ballad that I have a surprising amount of thoughts on. Neither of those countries stood the slightest chance against Alexander Rybak from Norway, who won with a whopping 387 points. He broke the eight-year streak of countries winning for the first time; the only other first-time winners after this year have been Azerbaijan (2011) and Portugal (2017). I don’t know about you, but I think it’s about time someone new takes the crown.

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Lithuania: Love

Artist: Sasha Son (Dmitry Shavrov)

Language: English, plus some Russian in the final chorus

Key: A minor, B minor

I’m glad I decided to take notes about all the songs in the semifinals—it saved my future self (i.e. my present self) some trouble! I described this song as another one of those piano ballads where the piano starts out prominent but fades. If you’ve read my 1990’s reviews, you might remember how annoyed I was by these types of ballads. I also said in my notes that the visual effects make it look like a song about pianos, which I still think is true. Overall this is just too dreary and undeveloped for me, though I like the Russian section a little bit more than the rest. Maybe it’s because I’m not as used to hearing this type of minor key ballad in Russian instead of English.

Israel: There Must Be Another Way

Artist: Noa (Achinoam Nini) and Mira Awad

Language: Hebrew, Arabic, and English

Key: F minor

Next up we have a song about one of the most controversial topics in the entire world, especially in the past six months: the conflict between Israel and Palestine. I’m going to say it right now: I really love this song and it’s one of the two best activist entries in Eurovision history. The other is “Russian Woman” from 2021.

The fundamental reason this song works better than other activist entries is because it doesn’t pretend everything is peachy and perfect, or that everything would be perfect if we all just held hands. It features an Israeli and Palestinian singing together in each other’s languages plus a bit of English about the pains and horrors that both sides have faced. I can tell the singers mean every word that they’re singing; to this day, they’re both outspoken activists for peace between the two countries.

The mixing of Hebrew and Arabic is clever because it showcases that the two languages sound quite similar. The song doesn’t need different melodies for different languages—the first verse and chorus are in Hebrew, and the second verse and chorus use the same melodies in Arabic. Normally I prefer when different portions of a song are designed for different languages, but in this song, the melodies are designed to fit all three languages. It makes for great musical symmetry and matches the song’s message perfectly. After the second chorus we have a bridge with a bit of Hebrew and a bit of Arabic, then a third chorus in English, then the Hebrew chorus once more.

Arabic and Hebrew don’t sound near identical like Slavic languages do to me, but in this song their commonalities are easy to notice (like the “h” and “kh” sounds, or syllables like “yam” and “el”). This in turn shows that Israelis and Palestinians have a lot in common culturally, so it really shouldn’t be hard for them to see each other as equals—which is exactly what this song intends to convey. This song tells us that if Palestinians and Israelis show empathy for each other, and if they support each other when something goes wrong, then they could coexist in peace. And that’s a message that I deeply respect. I think there is no greater evil in the world than racism—the false idea that some ethnic groups are inherently better than others. And I think most of the world’s conflicts can be traced back to racism, which this song speaks up against.

I’m thankful for the juries this year, because if the final was televoting only then this song would’ve come last place. I blame the death slot personally—the juries gave it a generous ninth place. Israel finished 16th place overall this year.

France: Et s’il fallait le faire

Artist: Patricia Kaas

Language: French

Key: F♯ minor, G minor. The key change is early on.

Oh hell yes, so many countries are awake this year! I love Eurovision years like this, where most countries sent a fiercely competitive entry. It’s especially nice when a country wakes up from a years-long slump and decides this year is their time to kick ass, which is exactly what France did this year. But the downside is that there’s always a country or two that remained asleep and very often, that country turns out to be Germany.

This was France’s first top 10 finish since 2002: they scored a respectable eighth place, largely thanks to the juries. As I said in my 1991 review, the properly competitive entries prove that if France always took Eurovision this seriously, they’d be a consistent power player and fans would complain that the juries automatically rank a song high just because it’s from France.

For real, this song is so authentically French! Not in an in-your-face stereotypical way, but recognizably French no less. It’s a chanson in triple meter with lyrics that match the rhythm of French, as chansons tend to do. The title means “if it had to be done” or “if I had to do it” and the lyrics are exactly the type of romantic drama typical of this genre. Patricia expresses herself perfectly and I really love the piano parts and subtle accordions. I have to admit, this song falls into the shadow of the even better chanson entry 12 years later called “Voilà”, but it’s still a strong effort from France. I almost wish this song was in 2008 (a year filled with joke entries) instead of 2009, because then it would’ve stood out a lot more.

The most interesting part of this song is near the end, where the song gets quiet for a few measures then returns to its tension for the last bit. The quiet section proves that this is the kind of song where you don’t even realize how much it built up until it strips back the instrumentation.

I always feel weird when the stage shows the title of the song translated to tons of different languages. Do they think (for example) a Swedish speaker will only enjoy the song if they see “om det var nödvändigt” on screen? This is quite a clever use of the rotating LEDs on stage, don’t get me wrong. But it always feels a bit silly to see the title translated to so many languages—a great song can be understood by everyone, no matter which language they speak, and this is a good example. It especially feels weird when the stage features languages that no one is actually singing in this year. Plus, someone is inevitably going to feel left out when their language isn’t included. Unless they include 40-some different languages in total.

Random fact: The German text (Wenn ich es machen müßte) is written in all caps with the pre-1996 spelling rules; with the current rules it would be “müsste”. Additionally, it’s slightly odd that they used the capital ẞ because it’s more often capitalized as SS. Note that the letter ß is called “sharp S” and is NOT a variant of B.

Sweden: La Voix

Artist: Malena Ernman, who crazily enough is the mother of Greta Thunberg

Language: English and French

Key: B♭ major, C major

Sweden took a break from singing in English to not sing in Swedish, but in French. This time they went for a sort of hybrid of Swedish dance pop and soprano opera music. It’s got some good melodies, but I can’t say it does much for me otherwise.

Tim Frühling (the German commentator) said at the end of the song, “Mein Gott, was für eine Stimme!” (my god, what a voice) but Graham Norton snarked about her leading the dog back into the living room. Malena has good singing skills for sure, but more in a technically impressive way than a “lovely to listen to” way. I’m also a bit annoyed that the French parts of her song are barely intelligible except maybe “j’entends la voix”—normally, a Eurovision song with an unusual choice of language should highlight all the features of that language.

One more problem is less with the song and more with the elaborate stage full of LEDs: it looks a little awkward when the song doesn’t use the effects much. All the LED screens just display gradients of white and black. I would’ve turned them off entirely for this song.

Croatia: Lijepa Tena

Artist: Igor Cukrov featuring Andrea Šušnjara

Language: Serbo-Croatian (Croatian)

Key: C♯ minor, D minor

This is the kind of Balkan ballad entry where people binging every contest would think, “oh hey, this sounds like something Željko would write”. It does sound like this at the first and starts off absolutely lovely, but it lacks the crucial Željko Joksimović trope of a song-wide crescendo. This unfortunately means the song gets repetitive in the second half. Whether it’s Balkan or non-Balkan, a Eurovision ballad will click with me most if it has that dramatic buildup from start to finish.

Portugal: Todas as ruas do amor

Artist: Flor-de-Lis

Language: Portuguese

Key: G major

The jury and televotes alone both ranked this song 18th place, but due to the blending of jury and televote points it scored 15th place instead. Sometimes it’s weird how numbers work.

Anyway, you have to respect Portugal in Eurovision for being so true to themselves. As with last year, this is as Portuguese as it gets—no other country is as insistent on sticking to their own style. This song has guitars that pluck at my heart, accordions that do the magical thing accordions do to me, some good old Portuguese lyrical rhythm, and a nice beat using occasional percussion. The whole song is very sweet and plucks at my heart a little, regardless of language. It makes good colorful use of all the visual effects too. There’s not much else to say about this entry—it’s the kind that I can sit back and happily enjoy.

Iceland: Is It True?

Artist: Yohanna (Jóhanna Guðrún Jónsdóttir)

Language: English

Key: C minor, D minor

I’m glad I took notes when watching the semifinals, because I wrote down an extensive first reaction to this song that I otherwise would’ve forgotten about. The following paragraph is exactly what I wrote on paper:

This song is a good example of the “refresh” Eurovision had this year. It’s a serious moving ballad that stands out brightly. We’re moving away from Irish-style ballads, and into modern ballads which I like better. Lovely harmonies too. I can see why this scored well! This proves an economic crisis is no excuse for sending a crap entry. You’d never guess Iceland was going through such hardships from this song!

For context, Tim Frühling mentioned in the first semifinal that Iceland was going through an economic crisis this year, which is why this song surprised me so much. Graham Norton mentioned it too and joked about Yohanna’s dress. Fans love to use financial troubles to justify why a country sent a bad entry to Eurovision, or why a country sent non-competitive songs multiple years in a row. I even suspected that was a reason for Estonia’s streak of poor results in the 2000’s. But Iceland’s song this year makes me believe that most “this country purposely sent a bad song so they wouldn’t win” theories are utter nonsense. They sent (in my opinion) their most competitive Eurovision song up to this point and were rewarded with second place!

Most ballads in Eurovision blend into ballad soup for me. But then you have the occasional ballad that somehow does something extra. I heard it for the first time when reviewing the semifinal, and I still recall tons of things about it. I even remember its key signature off the top of my head! Since I have perfect pitch, for me remembering the key of a song is the same as remembering its melody, lyrics, or instruments. The more memorable a song is, the more likely I am to remember its key. So if I can remember the key of this ballad after just one listen, that means Iceland was doing something right this year.

You know what? My ordinary dislike of ballads be damned, I think this is a beautiful song. It’s got a singer who’s powerful but not waily, which for a ballad is an absolute miracle. It has some lovely vocal harmonies that are clearly audible but don’t overpower her. The instrumental is the right mix of melancholy and dramatic and has chord progressions that are simple but effective. The chorus even uses the standard four-chord progression in a way that works. You know, a song doesn’t need a complex chord progression to appeal to me! I really love the use of cellos and guitars too, and I like that we can see those instruments on stage. The singer feels the lyrics really well: they’re about the shocking realization that her love interest cheated on her, which she doesn’t want to be true.

Well done Iceland, you made me fall in love with a ballad. This isn’t the first time that happened, if you remember how much I love “In Your Eyes” from 1993. If Iceland managed to make their ballad appeal to me of all people, then it’s no wonder they scored so well! Then again, I might just be more receptive to the modern style of Eurovision ballads. Another example is “De diepte” from 2022, which is also a beautiful song.

Oh holy fuck, this song has alternate language versions? In French, German, Russian, and Spanish (but not Icelandic)? Jeez, it’s like Yohanna wanted me to write a long review of this song. I’ll be quick reviewing those, I promise. She sings in French reasonably well, aside from some odd vowels, but I don’t think the song fits French that well. I shouldn’t be hard on her pronunciation of vowels, because non-native songs in English have strangely pronounced vowels all the time. The German version takes me back to all those old German versions of Eurovision songs from the 1970’s, where most singers struggled to pronounce the “ich” sound. I’m distracted by her pronouncing the “g” in “wolkig” as a G, instead of with the “ich” sound or a K, which would both be acceptable. Decent effort, but it doesn’t sound as sharp as German-language music usually does.

I’m not that qualified to judge her pronunciation in Russian, but I noticed from the lyrics that she has no idea how to pronounce Ы, which isn’t unusual for a non-native. Her pronunciation of Spanish is probably the best of the four—it helps that Icelandic has voiced and voiceless “th” sounds just like European Spanish, so she doesn’t substitute them with D and S sounds respectively. I do wonder why she recorded these alternate language versions when she made so many pronunciation mistakes. Those were common in the 1960’s to 1980’s, but not so much now. Regardless, it really took me back to analyze all these other versions.

Greece: This Is Our Night

Artist: Sakis Rouvas, returning from 2004

Language: English

Key: F♯ minor, G♯ minor

We’re starting to enter the 2010’s dance music sound, which in the early 2010’s was pretty much my favorite genre of music. It’s grown off me a little now, but these types of songs still bring back memories. I’m not sure why Sakis Rouvas thought he was going to win this year—maybe he just overestimated how good this song is. It’s ambitiously staged for sure, but musically this is an average dance anthem.

Armenia: Jan Jan (Ջան Ջան)

Artist: Inga and Anush Arshakyan, a pair of sisters

Language: English and Armenian

Key: E minor, F minor

Armenia’s ethno-bop last year missed the mark for me, but this on the other hand is totally up my street. To examine why this song works so well, I’ll enter musical analysis mode.

First off, this song makes so much use of the 12/8 time signature. I was tempted to say it was 4/4 in swing rhythm at first, but 12/8 is more accurate because it doesn’t just use 2-1-2-1 rhythm, but also some 1-2 and even 2-2-2. For instance, in the passage “everybody move your body, we are dancing nor par”,  the bolded words are in a 1-2 rhythm and the others in 2-1. If you don’t know what these numbers mean, think of 2-1 as “DA-da” and 1-2 and “da-DA”. This variation in rhythm tickles my ears and makes the song musically unpredictable, in a good way. It would be so much less interesting if they sang it as “everybody move your body, we are dancing nor par”.

In the backing, this song uses a mix of synths and ethnic instruments—some that sound like bagpipes and violins, some that sound like guitars. I don’t know the names of these instruments and we can’t see them on stage, so I’m just speculating here. This song does a good job combining electronic and ethnic music, because the synths provide the bassline and backing, whereas the traditional instruments complement the singers’ melody and get a few solos.

Another really cool thing about this song is that it has two bridge sections, or arguably one bridge section split in two. The first bridge section starts with “jumping up” and the second starts with “nor par – dududududu”. These sections do exactly what a bridge is supposed to do: take the song in a surprising new direction, then lead back into the final chorus. The bridge sections are set apart from the rest of the song because they sound more traditional and mysterious.

I would have absolutely thrown some votes at this song in 2009, at least if I had the same musical tastes in 2009 as I do today. Overall it’s really lovely to hear an ethno-bop that isn’t crazy hectic, but at a more moderate tempo. I’ll be sure to revisit this song often.

Russia: Mamo (Мамо)

Artist: Anastasia Prikhodko

Language: Russian and Ukrainian

Key: D minor

If you thought this contest couldn’t get any more bittersweet in retrospect, now we have a second song in the languages of two countries currently at war. Anastasia is from Ukraine and has a Russian father and Ukrainian mother, so her selection was controversial at the time. But it happened, and it wouldn’t have been possible just five years later.

Most of the song is in Russian but the first chorus is in Ukrainian, which I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t been told as much. It’s strange in this case because the two choruses sound near identical. The Ukrainian chorus starts with “Mamo, a ti zh meni kazala: Yak ne zhaday”, and the Russian chorus starts with “Mama, a ty zhe mne skazala: Ne ozhiday”. Was the intention to highlight how similar the two languages are? I understand why Anastasia wanted to include Ukrainian in this song, but it’s not noticeable to those who don’t speak Slavic languages. And when a song is in multiple languages, I prefer when each section highlights the languages’ distinct features.

Musically, this is quite a lovely song, even though I’m not a big fan of her wailing at the end. It’s got a similar sound to some of the early 2000’s entries from Russia, or more specifically their Russian versions. It has some heavy-sounding melodies, a nice melancholy chord progression, and overall it sounds authentically Slavic. Just through her performance and the background effects of her face aging, you can tell it’s about her fear of what lies in her future and reflecting on what her mother used to tell her. I’m not sure whether I like the dramatic ending or think it’s too bombastic.

Azerbaijan: Always

Artist: Aysel Teymurzadeh and Arash Labbaf

Language: English

Key: C♯ minor (intro), B♭ minor (verses), E♭ minor (chorus)

After their weird-ass debut that somehow reached eighth place, Azerbaijan decided now was their time to keep their eyes on the prize. I’m not at all surprised this song reached third place—it’s exactly the kind of song that does well among voters. Azerbaijan took notes from Greece this year and went for the ethno-bop route, and it’s certainly catchy but nowhere near as good as Armenia. Why is that?

Armenia’s song this year has an authentic ethnic sound and is intended above all else to showcase the country’s traditional music. It has so many intricate details that give it a unique personality. This song, on the other hand, feels like it was designed to become popular and be played in the radio a lot. It has an extremely catchy and sticky chorus, but I feel like the song was designed solely for the chorus and everything else was an afterthought. The verses in particular are so short and rushed that they may as well not exist. The bridge section is a little better, but it’s still forgettable compared to “ALWAYS ON MY MIND! ALWAYS IN MY HEART!” It’s the kind of song that predictably scores high but doesn’t have the heart and soul of other entries.

Bosnia and Herzegovina: Bistra voda

Artist: Regina

Language: Serbo-Croatian (Bosnian)

Key: F♯ minor

I don’t remember anything about this song, but according to my semifinal notes I quite liked it. My notes about this song say:

Yay, back to Balkan ballads! It’s very Željko inspired, down to the audience clapping at the buildup.* Holy fuck, this is a crazy stacked year! It doesn’t crescendo as well as Željko’s songs do.

I’m content in accepting this song isn’t identical to Željko’s composition style. It has most things I love about Balkan ballads: dramatic slightly freeform singing, melancholy guitars, gradual buildup. But it doesn’t have a memorable melody that it can frequently revisit, which is one thing Željko does perfectly every time. I enjoy listening to this song, but it’s just not as sticky as (for example) “Lane moje”.

* This only happened during the semifinal.

Moldova: Hora din Moldova

Artist: Nelly Ciobanu

Language: Romanian and English

Key: C♯ minor

Moldova was robbed so hard this year! This year they an absolutely delightful ethno-bop that does everything an ethnic entry should do, but they only got 14th place. What were the voters thinking?!

I made a chiptune cover of this absolute banger a month ago, which you should listen to if you haven’t! I’m really proud of it but it has barely any views. The fact that I covered this song makes it a little difficult to analyze, but there is a plus side: transcribing the song in such detail made me realize interesting facts about it.

One thing that covering “Hora din Moldova” made me notice is that it has quite an unusual structure. The song starts by grabbing the listener’s attention with a dramatic waily intro (for once, I mean waily in a good way). Then it dives straight into the trumpet melody and it becomes two and a half minutes of peak Eurovision joy. It doesn’t have any well-defined verses or chorus: the only part that I’d call a verse is the first portion where she sings lyrics, up until the trumpets play.

Although, it doesn’t have a verse/chorus structure, this song avoids sounding unfocused or like it crams too many ideas within three minutes, which is a common criticism of “Unicorn” from 2023. That’s because the song frequently returns to the catchy melody on the trumpets, as well as the chord progression that debuts in the second half of the verse (șai lalai la, și zborul). This chord progression is the secret sauce that “Hora din Moldova” uses to maintain cohesion: it shows up again in the calm bridge section, as well as the ending portion.

The one thing that used to perplex me about this song was that only the bridge section (all the seas, all the winds) was sung in English; it seemed out of place among all the Romanian. But then when I covered this song, I discovered that its Eurovision CD version is a little different. It starts the first verse in English then does the rest in Romanian except the bridge, which is so much more logical. It means that English speakers quickly know what the song is about, which is a dance they’ve never seen from a country called Moldova, then get to enjoy Moldova’s language for the rest of the song. It’s a bit odd that Nelly didn’t sing the languages this way in the contest, but it’s not a deal breaker. This song is a total delight either way.

But really, I shouldn’t have to tell you how much I love this song. When someone covers a song, that typically means they really love the song and want to make their own version, and the same is true for my covers.

Malta: What If We

Artist: Chiara Siracusa, returning from 1998 and 2005

Language: English

Key: F♯ major, A♭ major

Third time wasn’t the charm for Chiara. She scored third and second place before, but this time only 22nd. It gets crazier though: 1998 and 2005 were televote years, so surely it was the juries who tanked her… right? Nope, couldn’t be further from the truth. She got 13th place out of 25 with the juries, and second last place with the televote. Although I feel bad for Chiara not scoring well, I laughed when Graham Norton said this song was predicted to do well.

For a ballad this isn’t too bad. As with Iceland, this is more of the contemporary style of ballad instead of the Irish style. It’s got a nice cinematic sound and Chiara still is exceptionally good at hitting notes. But her voice doesn’t sound quite as pure as before and the song gets repetitive after a while, which isn’t at all disguised by the key change.

Erica is baffled as to why this scored so much lower than Iceland, so here’s my theory. I think Malta really didn’t benefit from being surrounded by so many flashy dancey songs, especially due to all those songs’ visual effects. It’s just Chiara singing alone, whereas most others had something fancier happening on stage. This includes Iceland, which had a very expressive singer, three backing singers, and two instrumentalists. In some cases (like Heroes or Space Man) a solo singer can carry the stage by themselves, but here the performance just falls flat. Additionally, I think that due to the harmonies and instrumentation, Iceland has wider appeal to people who normally don’t like ballads.

Estonia: Rändajad

Artist: Urban Symphony

Language: Estonian, for the first time since 1998

Key: F minor

After sending forgettable drivel for five years in a row, Estonia decided this year was the perfect time to wake up! And by wake up, I mean send one of the most awesome songs in Eurovision history. Seriously, this song and “Leto svet” (their joke entry from 2008) are night and day. It’s hard to believe they’re from the same country. I’ve heard this song before, but not as often as several other entries from 2009, so when I reached it in the semifinal, it stole my heart as though I had heard it for the first time.

This is the first Estonian Eurovision entry that truly feels like it’s meant for this language. Their songs from 1993 to 1998 all give me the vibe that they’d sing in English if they could, since pretty much all of them are standard 1990’s ballads. Oh yeah, there was also “Tii” from 2004 in a minority language, but that one isn’t that great. “Rändajad” is the turning point where Estonia sang in their own language not out of necessity, but to enhance their song. They have two (soon to be three) native-language entries after this, in 2012, 2013, and 2024.

Fans of this song who don’t speak Estonian are really happy that it’s in Estonian, because it adds to the mystical sound. I feel exactly the same way, which makes me wonder: how do fans who do speak Estonian feel about it? Does the song strike their hearts even harder, or does their familiarity with the language make it sound less mysterious? I’ll use German-language Eurovision songs as a comparison. Some of them like “Ein bisschen Frieden” or “Guildo hat euch lieb”, I probably wouldn’t enjoy as much if I couldn’t understand the lyrics, whereas others like “Dschinghis Khan” I’d enjoy equally regardless of language. Since the lyrics tell a story of mysterious wanderers, it would probably fall into the same camp as “Dschinghis Khan” for me, but I can’t say for sure.

Enough about the language: what else made me love this song so much that I typed ♥︎ seven times? It’s got a super intriguing mix of orchestral instrumentation with an electronic drum beat, for one. It starts off with some cello parts and then only a few seconds later, the electronic elements come in. It doesn’t dilly-dally at the start but dives directly into the verse, so that the verse feels like a verse and intro at the same time. Then the chorus comes in with that amazingly memorable melody, and it still feels like the song has barely begun (in a good way). I love the usage of “see on tee” (this is the way) as a repeated hook and I love the harmonies in the chorus. They enhance the lead singer but don’t overpower her, very much like Iceland.

The second verse and chorus play afterwards, then the chorus repeats without all the “see on tee”s, which leaves the listener wondering what the song could throw at them next. The answer is a tiny bit more singing, then a long juicy instrumental bridge section that would fit perfectly in a [S] page in Act 5 or 6 of Homestuck, like when a character ascends to god tier… wait shit, that’s a bad analogy, because most readers of my Eurovision reviews probably don’t know anything about Homestuck.* What I’m saying is, the bridge section sounds full-out cinematic and would be right at home in… let’s say, a movie scene where two characters pose for their grand final battle.

After the bridge comes a return of the verse, whose melody is sung with vocal warbling. Then she continues warbling her way through the final chorus, as the backing singers continue singing as usual. Then one last “see on tee”, and the song ends. I almost forgot to mention the beautiful space effects on stage; they’re such a great way to get me immersed in the song!

All in all, this song is a perfect redemption arc for Estonia. I’m happy enough with it getting sixth place, because some of the less exotic songs were inevitably going to score higher. Now I’m curious if Estonia will continue their momentum next year.

Alright, we have ten songs left now and we’ve made it through most of the good stuff. The only hard hitter remaining is Norway, five songs after this.

* If you do know anything about Homestuck, you’ll probably find it weird as hell that Eurovision 2009 was a month after the comic began.

Denmark: Believe Again

Artist: Niels Brinck

Language: English

Key: G major

Why is Denmark in Eurovision still being forgettable? I completely forgot how this sounded yet again; in my notes I called it “an Irish boyband song under the Danish flag”. Which it basically is—Ronan Keating even wrote it. Sorry Ronan, but this is the dullest song of the night so far.

I’ve read that Denmark would keep sending safe radio pop for many years to come. They did win in 2013, but it was the “oh yeah, that one” of 2010’s winners. Is it just me, or do most Eurovision fans have no strong opinion one way or another about “Only Teardrops”? I’d say more about that song’s lack of opinions, but that’s better saved for my 2013 review.

Germany: Miss Kiss Kiss Bang

Artist: Alex Swings Oscar Sings! (Alex Christensen and Oscar Loya)

Language: English

Key: B♭ minor, B minor

German-language music still doesn’t exist! Well OK, Germany had more of an excuse to avoid their language back in the 2000’s, but absolutely not in 2024.

I’m in two minds about this song. It’s super funky as a composition and it’s nice to hear something different from Germany, but I do not like electro-swing. Something about the electro-swing genre just annoys me, I don’t know why. I’d rather listen to regular jazzy music or regular dance music—combining those two genres just doesn’t work for me. I’m surprised this was only a year before Germany got their shit together and won the entire contest. For me, Eurovision 2010 will be a very happy year.

Turkey: Düm Tek Tek

Artist: Hadise Açıkgöz

Language: English

Key: A minor

It’s been a joy seeing Turkey evolve from a Eurovision underdog to a power player—they continued their strong streak with fourth place this year. This is a fun ethno-bop with a super catchy chorus melody, but as with Azerbaijan it’s more of the “predictably scores well” type rather than the “oh my god this is full of interesting details” type. Still, I do quite like this song. I particularly love the drums that play each time she sings “düm tek tek”, and that the chorus melody is played both in the vocals and instruments.

Albania: Carry Me in Your Dreams

Artist: Kejsi Tola

Language: English

Key: E♭ minor, E minor

This is one of those Eurovision songs that tries to be memorable by having bonkers staging, but in reality only the staging is memorable, not the song itself. In fact, I can’t remember a thing about this song. My notes say that it’s average Eurodance but gets a little more ethnic in the bridge, and I was spot on.

Norway: Fairytale (the winner)

Artist: Alexander Rybak

Language: English

Key: D minor

I am in two minds about this song’s victory. On the one hand, I love this song a lot and it’s a well-deserved winner. On the other hand, this isn’t head and shoulders above everything else this year, so I’m baffled it got almost twice as many points as the runner-up. Norway got 387 points in total, Iceland got 218. If you average the jury and televote points, the margin is still huge: 345 for Norway, 216.5 for Iceland. It scored highest in the televote (Norway 378, Azerbaijan 253) and in the jury (Norway 312, Iceland 260). Why could this huge margin possibly be?! First I’ll analyze what makes this song work, then try my best to explain why it swept the competition.

Musically, this song does what the Nordic countries have always excelled at: telling a story in three minutes. Alexander Rybak composed and wrote this song entirely by himself, and it shows. I can tell he loves being on stage and showing his music to the world, particularly his violin skills. The stompy piano chords with a tinge of jazz, the chimes and string flourishes, and of course the iconic violin all give this song a rustic fairytale feel. It helps that the performance has storybook visuals in the background, which I never noticed before. Maybe the song is just too immersive!

Alexander clearly meant for it to be not just an ordinary song, but a storytelling tune that can resonate with listeners. And he did it so perfectly! The lyrics start with “years ago, when I was younger / I kind of liked a girl I knew”. The phrase “kind of liked” is an clever touch, because it shows that as a kid, he downplayed or underestimated his romantic interest before his infeasible love drove him insane. The chorus of course has “I’m in love with a fairytale / Even though it hurts”, which is something that most listeners have probably experienced. I can’t help but sing along with the chorus—the entire song really, but particularly the chorus. It’s just like “My Number One” in that sense.

The second verse is twice as long as the first verse (eight lines instead of four), and describes his alternation between lovely romance and miserable arguments. This section includes my favorite part of the song: in lines 5-6 (I don’t know what I was doing / when suddenly we fell apart), the chord progression changes and the violin becomes stronger to emphasize this section. I always love when the second verse of a song contains extra flourishes that weren’t in the first, doubly so when it ties into the story.

At the end of the second verse, he claims that he wants a brand new start with this girl. In the second chorus, he sings once again that he’s in love with a fairytale. Then comes an instrumental section, then one more chorus that starts with “she’s a fairytale”. It comes off that he knows now it’s unrealistic to return to his old love interest, but can’t stop himself from longing for her anyway.

I have a theory for why this song won so massively. It popped into my head while I was riding my bike the other day, because lots of ideas pop into my head when I’m riding a bike. One such idea is my Homestuck blog post series, which is a precursor to the blog post series you’re reading right now. My theory is that all the other highest scoring entries each appeal to a particular subset of Eurovision fans: Iceland and the UK for ballad lovers; Azerbaijan, Armenia, and Turkey for ethno-bop fans; Estonia for enjoyers of the exotic; and Greece for those who like dance pop. Norway’s song doesn’t fit neatly into any of these categories but is thoroughly accessible, which means it appeals to a wider demographic than any other.

Still though, beating the winner by 169 points is extremely unusual. It would make sense if this was in a year filled with endless ballads, English-language radio pop, or poorly sung Eurodance. But not in one of the most musically diverse years of Eurovision history! Sometimes in life, I just have to accept when things don’t make sense. On the bright side, at least I can understand why this won, which I can’t say about some Eurovision winners.

Ukraine: Be My Valentine! (Anti-Crisis Girl)

Artist: Svetlana Loboda

Language: English

Key: F♯ minor

Another song whose staging looks like a real-life music video. It’s a danceable song for sure, sounds a bit like what Philipp Kirkorov would compose, but overall it’s too much of a sensory overload for me, both in music and staging. Plus, the lyrics make approximately zero sense. Sorry Ukraine, I love your approach to Eurovision but this doesn’t do it for me.

Romania: The Balkan Girls

Artist: Elena Gheorghe

Language: English

Key: D minor

I was positive about the song in my notes during the semifinals, but by the time I reached the final I couldn’t remember how it sounds. Hearing it again, it seems underwhelming next to all these finalist entries. It tries to be a fun danceable party song, but aside from the repeated brass riff it misses the mark. Why didn’t they add an extra dance beat during the chorus? Maybe then it wouldn’t sound like a first draft.

United Kingdom: It’s My Time

Artist: Jade Ewen

Language: English

Key: E major, F major

Now for the UK’s second bright spot between Imaani (1998) and Sam Ryder (2022). This song scored fifth place, so it was the last time the UK reached the top ten (and second last time they reached the top half) until 2022.

Given that I massively disagreed with Erica about Iceland’s song, I’m surprised I agree with her about the UK. Actually I’m not that surprised, since her views align with mine so often. I’m really glad the UK scored well for once, but these types of slow theatrical ballads really aren’t my thing. Plus, it doesn’t have the lovely harmonies and string parts that we heard from Iceland. With this song, the UK has entered their era of bringing longtime big names to work on their entries: this year was Andrew Lloyd Weber, a legendary composer for movies and musicals. They would also send big name singers in 2012 and 2013, but to much worse results.

I would say I’m not looking forward to reviewing the UK’s next entry because I hate it with a burning passion, but in fact I’m excited to rant about why it’s so awful. I’m not as thrilled about having to listen to it again…

Finland: Lose Control

Artist: Waldo’s People

Language: English

Key: B minor

After three rock songs in a row, Finland went back to Eurodance this year. My notes say this has nice synths in the verses but gets too Eurodancey in the chorus. I heard it again in the final and I agree completely. I keep expecting the song to have a cheesy key change in the final chorus, but it somehow doesn’t. This got last place in the final and considering it only qualified because of backup juries, I can’t say I’m surprised.

Spain: La noche es para mí

Artist: Soraya Arnelas

Language: Spanish, plus repeated phrases in English

Key: F♯ minor

Unfortunately, this year ends with a dud of a song. If it sounds like a rejected Greek entry, that’s because it is. I read on Wikipedia that this song was originally written in Greek and offered to Helena Paparizou, then to two other Greek singers, one who wanted to enter Eurovision 2008. In the end, it was handed to a Spanish singer and edited to sound a bit more Spanish. It wants you to think it’s a Spanish dance song, but in reality it’s just swedo-pop with some superficial Greek flair masquerading as Spanish flair.

It’s a pet peeve of mine when a Big Five country is handed a song that no other country wants, particularly if it’s a Melodifestivalen reject. It implies that those songwriters (who often are Swedish) think the Big Five are a dumping ground for crap songs and have no reason to do well in Eurovision.

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Who’s my favorite?

I came into this review expecting I’d choose Moldova as my winner, but in the end a different song stole my heart the most. If you read my review of the semifinal, you can guess which one that is. Moldova and Armenia both sent spectacular ethno-bops, but nothing takes me to another world like Estonia, Rändajad. I knew I had to go with my gut here, because otherwise I’d retcon my winner a few months later.

• Belgium, 2 (1976, 2003)
• Bosnia and Herzegovina, 1 (2006)
• Denmark, 3 (1963, 2000, 2001)
• Estonia, 1 (2009)
• 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, 3 (1971, 1984, 2008)
• Serbia, 1 (2004)
• Sweden, 2 (1974, 1996)
• Switzerland, 1 (1986)
• Turkey, 2 (1978, 1997)
• Ukraine, 1 (2007)
• United Kingdom, 2 (1962, 1981)
• (20 winners)

Honorable mention to Iceland for achieving the unlikely feat of making me love a ballad, and Israel for sending a really sweet song that hits extra hard knowing the current war.

General thoughts:

The interval acts in this contest were all very different from each other. The first semifinal had the obvious Russia-themed act, the second semifinal had an international-themed act, and now the grand final has a “how exactly is this physically possible?” interval act. Or maybe more of a “this is how great our technology is” act. It features a bunch of acrobat performers on the ceiling connected to swimming pools set to bizarre hypnotic music. As far as interval acts go, this was a bit too bonkers.

Watching this contest made me see Russia in a new way. Given the huge amount of love and effort that so many Russians put into hosting Eurovision, there is no chance in hell that most Russians support destroying LGBT culture because they think it’s “Western propaganda”, or invading Ukraine under the guise of a “special military operation”, or all the other terrible things Putin’s regime has done. If that were true, then the people of Moscow would have protested against hosting the gayest song contest in the entire world. And if you think that all the Russians who don’t believe this crap have left Russia, consider that a large portion of them don’t have the money or means to do so.

More than that, this contest reminded me of why I was always so fascinated by Russia: I think Russians have a real knack for ambition. When they work on a project, their approach is to go big or go home. You see this in the scientific and artistic achievements that originated from Russia, as well as in Russian fanbases of any media. Russians have even made a full fan translation of Homestuck, and if you know anything about Homestuck you’ll know that’s a monumental task. You also see this characteristic Russian ambition in their Eurovision entries, especially the last one before they were banned: “Russian Woman”.

Everything about this contest beams with Russian ambition—the presentation, the postcards, the interval acts, and especially the arena technology. The quality and variety of songs were at a perfect level to complement this ambition, which is what made this such an amazing year. It wasn’t all peachy though: on the day of the finals, Russian police broke up an LGBT pride parade in Moscow. Graham Norton mentioned in his commentary that this has marred what has otherwise been a fantastic contest. I respect that he brought up this difficult topic and acknowledged that as much joy as Eurovision brings, it’s never without nasty drama.

Even though the voting was mostly just “our twelve points go to Norway” over and over again, the race for second place was much closer. It came down to the very last vote whether Iceland or Azerbaijan would score second, and in the end it was Iceland. So that means the voting was boring to watch, but not as boring as it could have been. Graham Norton was joyed that the UK joined the top five and I can’t help but be joyed with him, even though I don’t like their song. I sang along with every word of the winner’s reprise, or at least until it got interrupted by “Te Deum”, the Eurovision theme song.

One more downside of Eurovision 2009 is a downside of any spectacular installment of a work of media: it will be one hell of a tough act to follow. Will Norway’s hosting live up to the standards Russia has brought to the table? We’ll find out in my next post.

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See you next time as two Nordic countries don’t qualify to the grand final. One is completely rightful, the other will break my heart.

>> 2010 (Semifinals): The First Non-Qualifier to Break My Heart