Cookie Fonster Revels in Eurovision 2021 (Semifinals): A Heartwarming Show, but a Heartbreaking Bloodbath

Intro Post

< 2020 Semifinal 2 | 2021 Semifinals | 2021 Final >


Introduction

Some international annual events had to be canceled for two or three years in a row due to the COVID-19 pandemic, so we’re very fortunate that Eurovision only missed one year and maintained its host city of Rotterdam, Netherlands for 2021. The producers of Eurovision 2021 ensured the contest complied with all COVID-19 regulations, but cleverly disguised the fact that it occurred during a pandemic.

It feels strange to watch clips from the 2020 (actually 2021) Summer Olympics with almost no live audience, so it’s miraculous that the EBU put together a live audience for 2021. They did so by allowing only 3,500 seats in the Rotterdam Ahoy, about a third of the usual amount, and not allowing any standing seats—the space was instead used for a socially distanced green room. The audience members didn’t have to wear masks or sit two meters apart—they only had to test negative for COVID and wear masks when not seated. The audience consisted only of those who had bought tickets for Eurovision 2020, so there were no public ticket sales this year. One change that the pandemic did cause was that backing vocals could now be pre-recorded. It’s a bit of a divisive rule, but as we’ll see in quite a few songs this year, it’ll allow for a new layer of creative freedom.

All countries that would have participated in 2020 returned for 2021, except for Belarus who was banned due to sending a propaganda song, and Armenia who skipped out due to a war with Azerbaijan. Out of these 39 countries, 24 of them internally selected the same artist as 2020, two (Estonia and Lithuania) held a national final where the 2020 contestant won, and 13 selected an entirely new contestant. This means that exactly two-thirds of the entries this year have the same artist as 2020.

The running order for both semifinals looks pretty similar to the 2020 semifinals. The draws of who gets into which semifinal, and who is in which half, were reused from 2020, but the countries were reordered for the sake of the show. This means each semifinal will consist of the same countries as its 2020 counterpart (barring the ones that dropped out), but not always the same singers.

As of this writing, I’ve heard in full almost all Eurovision entries from 1956 to 2024, except for these countries’ entries this year: Albania, Australia, Austria, Belgium, Croatia, Czechia, Estonia, Georgia, North Macedonia, Romania, Slovenia, and Sweden. By the time I finish this post, I will have heard every single song in Eurovision history.

I watched the semifinals with German commentary by an increasingly raspy Peter Urban, who by this point I’ve warmed up to. I find his style of commentary to be deadpan in an endearing old man way. In case you were wondering, I’m back to watching these contests alone. If you’d like to know more about how I find commentary for recent contests, or would like me to send video files I have available, there are multiple ways to contact me listed on my home page. I’m open to helping you out!

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Cookie Fonster Speculates on Eurovision 2020 (Semifinal 2): Would Iceland Have Won?

Intro Post

< 2020 Semifinal 1 | 2020 Semifinal 2 | 2021 Semifinals >

Introduction

In this post I go through the other 21 songs of Eurovision 2020, the contest that was canceled due to the COVID-19 pandemic. This includes the 18 songs that would’ve competed in semifinal 2, and the three automatic qualifiers who would’ve voted here: France, the UK, and Spain. This will be a way weaker lineup of songs than semifinal 1, but it also contains the song that most fans believe would’ve won 2020: “Think About Things” from Iceland.

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Cookie Fonster Speculates on Eurovision 2020 (Semifinal 1): Five Countries’ Best Entries Ever

Intro Post

< 2019 Final | 2020 Semifinal 1 | 2020 Semifinal 2 >

I’m convinced that Netta Barzilai incorrectly predicts the Eurovision host city on purpose at this point. Why else would she have predicted Geneva to host Eurovision 2025 when Basel was so obviously the correct choice? I’m very pleased with the choice of Basel; as I said, it’s relatively close to where my grandma and my mom’s German friends live, so I might end up going to the contest with my mother this time.


Introduction

After winning Eurovision for the first time in 44 years, the Netherlands was prepared to host Eurovision 2020, their first time putting on the contest in 40 years. The prior Dutch contests were all organized by the broadcaster NOS, but this time they teamed up with AVROTROS (the broadcaster who picks the Dutch entries) and the two broadcasters’ parent organization, NPO. Initially nine different Dutch cities bid, but then the potential host cities were narrowed down to five—none of which had hosted Eurovision before, so no Amsterdam, Hilversum, or The Hague. Then the shortlist consisted only of Maastricht and Rotterdam, and in the end Rotterdam won out, earning them the right to host Eurovision in the Rotterdam Ahoy.

Most of the same countries from 2019 sent an entry to Eurovision 2020. The only two that didn’t were Montenegro (who would return in 2022, then will return again in 2025) and Hungary (who still hasn’t returned). Ukraine and Bulgaria both came back after skipping 2019. This means that as with last year, 41 countries had entries ready for the contest. That is, until the COVID-19 pandemic shut down the entire world and canceled the Eurovision Song Contest.

When the coronavirus lockdowns started up, a few countries were still yet to release their Eurovision entries. Russia was the very last to do so, on March 12, 2020. In those first few days of the lockdown, everyone thought it would only last a few weeks, but quickly the world would be proven wrong. On March 18, the EBU announced their decision to cancel Eurovision 2020. This means we’re left with 41 songs that never got to compete on the Eurovision stage. Some of the contestants would get to perform in Rotterdam with new songs next year, but others would be replaced with different artists entirely.

This is going to be a really weird year to review. Instead of watching a TV broadcast of the contest, I’ll have to search YouTube for national final performances and music videos of the songs, as though I were ranking a Eurovision contest pre-show. Which is not easy at all—without a live performance to go off of, some songs just make me think “it’s dramatic I guess” or “it’s probably a good song”. But I will try my best!

I’ll go through the songs in the same order as in the Eurovision Song Celebration 2020 videos (1, 2). Both videos are in the running order the semifinal would’ve had, plus the three automatic qualifiers that would’ve voted at the end.

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Cookie Fonster Navigates Eurovision 2019 (Final): The Underdog Split Screen We Never Got

Intro Post

< 2019 Semifinals | 2019 Final | 2020 Semifinal 1 >

Fun fact: this is my first ever Eurovision blog post to surpass 10,000 words! The Word document containing this post has a grand total of 10,168 words, which is just insane, I know.


Introduction

After the low-budget productions of the two semifinals, it’s obvious from the opening act that the bulk of Israel’s funds for Eurovision went to producing the grand final. It starts with an opening film featuring Netta Barzilai flying an airplane commanded by Jon Ola Sand on the way to Tel Aviv.

Then comes a flag parade set to a medley of the host country’s Eurovision entries old and new, as well as a bunch of Israeli dance music that I assume is an original composition. I wish Portugal did some kind of medley like this last year, instead of constantly referencing “Amar pelos dois”. It features the instrumental of “Toy” from 2018, “Diva” from 1998, “Ey Sham” from 1973, and “Golden Boy” from 2015, as well as a song called “Tel Aviv” by Dana International. The flag parade alone is enough to tell the Israelis were absolutely joyed to host Eurovision again. The flag parade features a host saying welcome in each country’s language, then the country’s name in English. I wish the countries’ names were in their native languages, because it’s so weird to hear “willkommen, Germany”.

I didn’t discuss the hosts and postcards in the final, so I’ll do those now. After Ukraine said “men can host Eurovision too, let’s give us three dudes” and Portugal rebutted with “nuh-uh, four ladies are better!”, Israel gave us a gender-balanced quartet each of different ethnicities. Erez Tal is a Mizrahi Jew, Bar Refaeli is an Ashkenazi Jew, Assi Azar is a Yemenite Jew, and Lucy Ayoub is an Israeli Arab.

The postcards are the best of both worlds like last year, showcasing both the contestants and scenes of the host country, with the added twist of them performing dance routines set to a wide variety of music. They’re quite an extensive tour of Israel, a true showcase of the entire country! I’m thankful it’s not just Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, but single-city postcards can work: I’m quite fond of the postcards touring Gothenburg in 1985. This year has delightful postcards and they might be my second favorites ever, behind the flag postcards of 2014.

This is the first year where the voting sequence looks pretty much exactly as we know it today: the televote points are now delivered not from fewest to most televotes, but from bottom to top of the jury votes which is exactly the most exciting and logical way to do it. The only oddity in the voting sequence is that the countries started off in alphabetical order this year, instead of the usual running order.

I watched the grand final once more with Swedish commentary along with my friend Liv, then once more with German commentary alone.

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Cookie Fonster Navigates Eurovision 2019 (Semifinals): The Second Non-Qualifier to Break My Heart

Intro Post

< 2018 Final | 2019 Semifinals | 2019 Final >


Introduction

After taking the prize of Eurovision 2018, our good friend Netta Barzilai proclaimed that we’d see each other next year in Jerusalem. At first, Israeli politicians were intent on following through with her promise, and that would’ve made sense in a 20th century year. But Eurovision isn’t the same kind of event it was the last two times Israel hosted: the audience is no longer invite only, but consists of fans from all over the world. With its strong LGBT culture, proximity to an international airport, and appeal to worldwide tourists, there is no Israeli city better suited to host Eurovision 2019 than Tel Aviv.

Eurovision 2019 was a difficult contest to organize in many ways. You probably know that the contest faced protests against Israel hosting, but the difficulties go much further than that. Remember in Eurovision 2017 when the spokesperson Ofer Nachshon announced the dissolution of the Israeli Broadcasting Authority, which viewers misunderstood as Israel leaving Eurovision? Indeed, Eurovision 2017 was the last project the IBA was involved in before it was dissolved and replaced with a brand-new broadcaster called Kan, which was launched on May 15, 2017—just two days after the grand final. The name is not an acronym, but rather a Hebrew word meaning “here” (כאן). The IBA and Kan are two very different broadcasters: the former was government-owned and the latter is a public corporation independent from the government. Another difference is that Kan broadcasts in both Hebrew and Arabic, and is branded in Arabic as Makan, meaning “a place” (مكان). The right-wing prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu was opposed to the creation of Kan and tried his hardest to stop it, but all he could do was compromise with other politicians to delay it.

Kan wasn’t actually a member of the EBU until December 7, 2018, so during Eurovision 2018, the EBU agreed to let Kan send an Israeli entry to the contest without full membership. The broadcaster joined the EBU partway through its organization of the contest, and I have to say they put up an impressive show! It has quite a lot of signs of a constrained budget, but it’s a massively better show than the last two Israeli contests. Unfortunately, after a whole bunch of back-and-forths, the Israeli government refused to help pay for Eurovision 2019 which meant the contest’s tickets had to be notoriously expensive. In the live shows, the tickets’ prices ranged from €183 (₪750) for hall seats in the semifinal to €414 (₪1700) for level 1 seats in the final. If you’re intimidated by these prices, then just know that Eurovision seats normally are nowhere near this costly.

Most of the same countries competed as last year, but two skipped out: Bulgaria due to financial constraints, and Ukraine due to national final drama. I watched the semifinals together with Liv with Swedish commentary (the usual Edward af Sillén, plus Charlotte Perrelli who won 20 years prior in Jerusalem) and unfortunately couldn’t find the semifinals’ German commentary on eurovision.de, so I’ll just stick to that. We have 16 songs to get through in this post: one reject and 15 non-qualifiers.


Artist: Maruv (Hanna Borysivna Korsun)

Language: English, plus a repeated phrase in German at the start

Key: E minor

Crazy enough, this Eurovision year was almost going to have two songs with German lyrics in it! That’s not the most interesting song about this song; it’s just a repeated “komm zu mir” (come to me) at the start. These tiny bits of German I feel like I have to survive off of breadcrumbs, or “Brotkrümel” as the Germans call it. Though I’m surprised the word isn’t spelled “Brotkrümmel”, since most Germans I’ve heard including my mom pronounce it with a short ü. This spelling looks so much more correct to me. I admit, my sampling of Germans is heavily skewed towards Baden-Württemberg, the state that my mom comes from.

An explosion of controversy happened when this song won Vidbir 2019, since Maruv frequently performed music in Russia and expressed wishy-washy views on Ukraine’s relations with Russia. The end result was that she was disqualified from participating in Eurovision 2019 and no other Vidbir contender was willing to take her place.

It’s quite a shame all this drama happened, because as a song this is totally up my street. It’s a fun dancey bop with a great catchy beat and synths. It starts simple and gradually gains new instruments and riffs, including a poppy bassline and the melody of the low trumpets. My face always lights up when the synth bassline begins amidst each verse. Her breathy singing might not be to everyone’s taste, but I think it fits the song well and makes it sound mysterious. And then comes the drums’ breakdown in the final chorus, which sounds almost like it should be a bridge section but I don’t mind that it ends the song instead.

This might actually be my favorite rejected entry and I understand why it got disqualified, but it’s a real shame that it had to happen to such a great piece of music. Fortunately, Eurovision 2019 has a few other dance bops with a similar spirit.

Montenegro: Heaven

Artist: D mol

Language: English

Key: D major, E♭ major

After a girlbop in English was predictably put in the opening slot, we have this abomination in the death slot. I don’t like that the death slot is used so often for a weak entry that will obviously never qualify, i.e. as a “death slot”. I prefer it when the second entry is something different from the first that keeps the audience in good spirits.

For the first thirty seconds I thought, “huh, is Montenegro trying to qualify by sending something normal?” But then it gradually got more and more obnoxious. Turns out that it’s one of those ensemble ballads where everyone gets a turn to sing, and they all have inconsistent singing abilities and don’t fit together at all.

Normally accordions and violins elevate a song, but in this pop ballad they’re out of place and are just a failed attempt to make it sound more interesting. And then the song just gets more obnoxious and cheesy and vaguely twee, then comes an annoying key change, then ultimately it becomes clear that Montenegro didn’t try at all this year. We won’t see them in Eurovision again until 2022.

Finland: Look Away

Artist: Darude featuring Sebastian Rejman

Language: English

Key: B♭ minor

I feel bad for Finland this year because this was the real low point of their 2010’s stump era, scoring dead last place. I also feel bad for Finland because their song isn’t as bad as everyone says, it’s just incredibly easy to make fun of. The song is supposed to be a criticism of people looking away from harsh living conditions in the third world, but the endless repetitions of “look away” make me think that he doesn’t want to be on stage and wants viewers to look away. I only realize he’s not telling us to look away if I notice he starts with “we look away”, but even then, he says “look away” way too many fucking times.

Liv told me this song could be good but too many things mess it up, and I couldn’t agree more. I’m not just referring to the repeated title. This is also just way too restrained for a techno song, especially the intention behind sending Darude was due to the fame of “Sandstorm” as an Internet meme (though I’m informed Europeans know it more as a football anthem). But sending one-hit wonders to Eurovision usually doesn’t work all that well, if you remember Las Ketchup in 2006. No one is gonna care that the Darude – Sandstorm guy is in Eurovision. And also, the song ends abruptly.

Poland: Pali się

Artist: Tulia

Language: Polish, plus a few parts in English

Key: C♯ minor

It’s a common misconception that this song missed out on qualifying to the grand final only because the Belarusian jury reversed their votes. While it’s true that the Belarusian jury screwed up their voting, it didn’t actually mess up the list of qualifiers. In reality, one of the Czech jurors is believed to have voted in reverse, and if her votes had been flipped, Poland would’ve then qualified.

As a song, I can’t decide this is my thing or not. It’s a pretty cool melancholy rock song with gritty verses and a more anthemic chorus. But man, the white voices are so damn high pitched, and white voice can only work for me under very specific circumstances. It’s nice to hear the Polish language again; the song is clearly designed around the language with its folksy even rhythm, and only two short sections are in English. We haven’t heard the language in Eurovision since then.

One nice thing Kan did when organizing this show: they were consistent with showing translations of songs’ titles into English. It annoys me when some songs arbitrarily get an English translation shown on screen and some don’t. This contest translates all foreign song titles into English on screen, yay for consistency! If I’m not mistaken, the only other years where foreign song titles were translated onscreen were 1967 (English, French, and German) and 1982 (English). The translation here is a little unusual, since the English title comes first and isn’t an exact translation. It’s listed as “Fire of Love (Pali się)”, although the Polish title means “it’s burning”.

Hungary: Az én apám

Artist: Joci Pápai, returning from 2017

Language: Hungarian, for the last time ever

Key: E♭ minor

Say it with me. Take a deep breath and scream your lungs out as you repeat after me:

HUNGARY WAS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING ROBBED! HOW DARE THE TELEVOTERS PREVENT THIS FROM QUALIFYING? THERE IS TRULY NO GOOD IN THIS WORLD!

Well OK, the existence of this wonderful song proves there’s a tiny sliver of good in this cruel world we live in.

Most non-qualifiers in Eurovision history I agree with, and most that I disagree with, I can at least understand why they didn’t qualify. Even “Työlki ellää”, which I love with all my heart, I can see not being the juries’ cup of tea even if they’re completely wrong. But I genuinely don’t understand how this could possibly not qualify, and I am absolutely heartbroken that it didn’t. Erica was also in shambles when this didn’t qualify, and she’s right to be. It’s her favorite non-qualifying Eurovision song of all time. The only other song whose non-qualification I find this incomprehensible is “Planet of Blue” from 1996.

This song tugs at my heartstrings in all the most perfect ways. Hungarian is one of the most impenetrable languages in Europe, nowhere close to mutually intelligible with even one other language in the continent, and only the official language of one country. I don’t understand a single word he’s singing, yet he sings with so much emotion that I feel like I can understand the whole song. I can certainly tell he means every word he’s singing. It helps to know the title means “My Father” and the lyrics are a reflection on all the great things his father has done for him.

The lyrics are verbally dense and do a ton with the Hungarian language. Just like his last entry “Origo”, you really get to know how this language sounds within three minutes, and both songs cleverly have some wordless portions that anyone can sing along to but don’t make the song any less Hungarian. The song has a lovely mix of four-chord progressions that each start with the same E♭ minor root chord and go in a new direction every time. I love the shift in chord progression from the verses to the pre-chorus, and I especially love that the last “nanana” chorus has one chord progression that loops three times, then subverts expectations in the fourth loop with a lovely ♭VI chord (C♭ major, sounds the same as B major).

The instrumentation of this song also contains everything I love and nothing I hate: heartfelt acoustic guitars at the start, a drum beat that adds to the emotion and isn’t in-your-face, and some lovely violins once we reach the chorus. The whole song is so amazing and almost makes me want to cry. It’s even better than “Origo” and even more heartfelt, yet somehow it was the televoters who prevented it from qualifying?! The juries ranked it 9th place which is already too low, and then the televoters were total philistines and ranked it 14th. I simply don’t understand how this could possibly be.

Sadly we aren’t going to see Hungary in Eurovision again, but at least they went out with a great song! I wish they had won at least once before their batshit prime minister decided Eurovision was too gay now.

Belgium: Wake Up

Artist: Eliot Vassamillet

Language: English

Key: G minor

Liv purposely hyped up this song to me by mentioning I loved the last two Belgian entries and saying that this has the same songwriters as “City Lights”, so that I could feel the same pain that she did when she realized this song isn’t good at all. I gave this song the benefit of the doubt at first and thought to myself, “the instrumental here is kind of good”, but then it dawned upon me that his singing is incredibly flat and he barely hits any of his notes, and that completely spoils the song. The instrumental is a decent enough synth dance ballad, but his vocals make it impossible for me to pay attention to anything else.

Liv said the song might sound better in French, and I could perhaps imagine that but it’d also need a way better singer. Screw it, just get Slimane to sing a French cover of this. The Swedish commentators weren’t impressed with this either: Edward af Sillén said (translated to English): “The feeble Eliot sings “I came to fight”. I don’t know what he’s gonna fight against, but I wouldn’t bet my lunch money on a Belgian victory in such a duel.” He was joking about the singer’s small stature, but I feel he wouldn’t have been this snarky if the song impressed him.

Georgia: Keep on Going

Artist: Oto Nemsadze

Language: Georgian, plus a repeated phrase in Abkhaz—the language of a region Georgia has been warring with Russia over

Key: B minor

Georgian is one of the few national languages of Eurovision countries we’ve never heard in the grand final: the only other is Azerbaijani. Czech was the third last such language, but it debuted in the Eurovision final in 2023.

Anyway, as a song this is very “it’s dramatic I guess”. I like that it explores the sound of the Georgian language, but I’m not convinced by his loud raspy singing, and the instrumental just sounds like a generic cinematic song. Maybe it could be spiced up by a larger amount of major chords, like mixing in a major version of the root chord.* That would really heighten the tension. I like the surprise of the backing singers singing “varada varada”; their singing style is much more appealing to me than the lead singer.

* EDIT: I’m fairly sure that is an observation Liv made, not me.

Portugal: Telemóveis

Artist: Conan Osíris (Tiago Emanuel da Silva Miranda)

Language: Portuguese

Key: E minor

This song is to Liv what “Az én apám” is for me: a non-qualfier that she absolutely loves and is completely gutted didn’t make it. It’s one of the most polarizing Portuguese entries—some people love it because it’s exotic, trippy, and never has the same musical ideas for more than thirty seconds, and some people hate it for all the same reasons.

I don’t love this song as much as Hungary’s entry, and I get that it was too exotic for most people’s ears, but I really enjoy this one too. Erica said that she’d think this was a joke entry if these guys didn’t look so serious about it, and honestly, I think that’s why this song works. It has strange lyrics about addiction to telephone and a weird indie stilted beat with some Portuguese, African, and Middle Eastern ethnic elements, but you can tell from his performance that this is an earnest piece of music. I love the variety of beats and synth riffs here a ton. The song throws so many surprises at me, and it isn’t spoiled by a painfully harsh singing style (glares at my beloathed “Quién maneja mi barca”), instead something normal and moderately warbly.

I’m not surprised this song didn’t qualify because it’s so eccentric, but I love it for this exact reason. It’s exactly the kind of indie music that’s all the rage in Portugal, because they’re the only European country too cool for beige radio pop.

EDIT: Rewatching this song without someone who’s obsessed with it, I think of this more as a song with fairly good elements that’s not bad to listen to, but too weird for me to love.

Semifinal 1 thoughts:

I wish the voting time window could have been shortened this year, because it’s blatantly obvious that Kan had only enough money for one interval act per semifinal: in this night, it’s Dana International covering “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars, which is fine but not her best work and the performance is way too preachy. Then came a video skit assembled from footage of all the postcards set to a dance remix of “A-Ba-Ni-Bi”, advertisements for Eurovision spinoffs (ugh), and even interviews advertising the interval acts for the final.

Among the bloat of interval segments, the best part is the mega-mashup of old Eurovision songs and clips. As someone who’s very familiar with mashups and sample-jams (especially involving video game music) and knows the difference between a good and bad mashup, I can safely say this mashup is musically great and everything a mashup should be!!! It’s more of a samplejam than a mashup and whoever made it must be truly passionate about Eurovision, since it has a mix of songs old and new, obscure and famous, and I love the detail of the lovely Lena Valaitis interrupting Johnny Logan with “Oh Johnny”. The mashup of “A-Ba-Ni-Bi” and “Dancing Lasha Tumbai” is technically off-key (B minor and E minor respectively), but if I wasn’t familiar with the songs I wouldn’t have noticed because the melodies fit together so perfectly. It helps that the keys of B minor and E minor are neighbors in the circle of fifths, so they have most of their notes in common.

The qualifier reveals though… dear god, that was a horrible sequence. How the fuck was that boring-ass un-Greek entry from Greece the first one that qualified? None of the songs that I truly hoped would make it qualified, until Czechia at number 6, that’s a bright spot of happiness. Iceland (number 8) was happy if totally obvious, but I would have been so sure the last qualifier would be Hungary. These qualifier reveals feel totally randomly generated: how on earth did San Marino make it and how was the last qualifier Slovenia instead of Hungary? I’m glad I didn’t watch these reveals live in 2019, because my heart would’ve shattered into a million pieces.


Armenia: Walking Out

Artist: Srbuk (Srbuhi Sargsyan)

Language: English

Key: F minor, F♯ minor

Sadly it seems like Armenia entered a slump era after their well-liked entry of 2017. This is some kind of pop ballad that tries to sound dramatic but is really just a little stilted. She has a good sassy singing voice but I don’t think she’s great at hitting notes, and I can’t understand her lyrics that well. I do like the camera gimmick where during the bridge, the video broadcast shows a rehearsal with an empty audience, then the audience returns in the (fairly good) key change.

Ireland: 22

Artist: Sarah McTernan

Language: English

Key: C major

If you’re wondering why this song is named after a number, it’s not about the singer turning 22 years old. Rather, it tells the story of a woman who can’t get her ex out of her head and thinks of him whenever she sees the number 22, which is his house number.

Liv absolutely hates this song and thinks it’s totally aimless and sloppy, but I think it has some things to like about it: a mellow and comfy instrumental, and a staging with a table and sundaes that comes off like a real-life music video. Still, it’s not very competitive and I’m not at all surprised this didn’t qualify.

What really drags this song down is the style of singing. When someone is giving a long speech, I find it easy to tell whether they’re speaking from their heart or just reciting a bunch of words (happened way too much at my high school graduation, and even more my sister’s high school graduation, it was painful to watch). The same is true for singing, at least to me. In this song, Sarah blatantly sounds like she’s reciting words that someone else wrote, not any kind of personal story. She almost comes off like a singer who barely speaks any English but has to recite an English song for a talent show. Funny enough, this song was composed and written entirely by Dutch people.

Moldova: Stay

Artist: Anna Odobescu

Language: English

Key: C minor, D minor

The staging for this song pisses me off because they brought back the sand artist from 2011 for the sole purpose of distracting us from how fucking boring and soppy this ballad is. Well guess what, I ain’t falling for it. The sand artist doesn’t even have a camera above her, so the footage shown on the LED screen is just pre-recorded. Normally I admire Moldova for having fun staging even on the occasion their songs are crap, but this time they just stole an idea from Ukraine.

I also hate the ultra-stompy clappy beat in the final chorus before the key change. That’s a trope in late 2010’s and 2020’s pop music that really annoys me, and it annoys me doubly so when it leads to a key change.

Latvia: That Night

Artist: Carousel

Language: English

Key: G minor

I really don’t like the title of this song, both because it’s uninspiring and because it’s never sung in the lyrics. I would have much preferred to name it “Where Are You?” because of the hook, “lo-o-o-o-ove, where are you”. Yes, I know that’s the same title as the runner-up of 1998, and that’s a non-issue.

This song really suffered from coming after gender-swapped “Fuego”, because it seems so forgettable in comparison. Which is a shame because I rather like listening to it. It’s a perfect rainy day song, or a song for when you’re in a bad mood and want something to soothe you that isn’t aggressively cheerful. I like the guitar, bass, and brush drum beat quite a lot, and I love the melody of “lo-o-o-o-ove, where are you” and how it’s played both by the guitar and vocals. I don’t think I love the song overall, because it’s really quite restrained, but I do have a soft spot for it; a mild crush on the song, you could say. Liv said that if it wasn’t so “easy listening” and more gripping, she would have liked it a lot more, and I totally agree.

I’m trying to think about how this song could’ve possibly been saved, since it’s such a damn obvious non-qualifier. It was drawn into the first half of the semifinal, so I have to wonder if it would’ve scored better as an opener. Or maybe it could’ve come after a song that isn’t as strong and competitive as “She Got Me”, so as to give it more of a chance.

EDIT (Dec 28, 2024): This song has grown on me so much, it’s absolutely unreal! I love the plucky guitar, I love the lonely yet dreamy mood, I love the subtle harmonies as it progresses, and I can live with the breathy singing.

Romania: On a Sunday

Artist: Ester Peony

Language: English

Key: C minor

This is a 6/8 ballad that’s fairly good as a composition, but it just comes off as unfocused to me. It has an awkward mix of acoustic guitars, synthy bass, and a stompy cinematic drum beat, and the singer sours it further with her wailing and weird pronunciations of words. The song is fine I guess, but I’d never think to vote for it and I’m not surprised it didn’t qualify.

Austria: Limits

Artist: Paenda (Gabriela Horn)

Language: English

Key: C major

Given that the Swedish commentators talked about Gabriela’s versatile instrumental skills and compared her to “Prince… but alive”, and that she composed the song all on her own, I suspect she thinks her song is a lot better than it really is. It’s a soppy electronic ballad with an even more annoying waily voice than the last two. Credit to her for singing notes this high without sounding like a child or an opera singer, but there’s only one Eurovision singer with a soprano voice I truly love, and her name is Eimear Quinn.

Croatia: My Dream

Artist: Roko Blažević

Language: English and Serbo-Croatian (Croatian)

Key: F minor, F♯ minor

Can Eurovision please ban singers from lying on the floor at the start? It annoys the absolute shit out of me every time. And then he starts breathing into the microphone and sounding all hushy and out of breath. His P’s are especially overemphasized by the microphone. Then the song builds up and it turns into yet another soppy overdramatic ballad, this time an attempt at a cinematic orchestral one. The second half, sung in Croatian, is a little better but then a key change sours it once more. My god, it feels like this song was designed to annoy me, but I’ll view the non-qualifiers being annoying as a good thing, because it means most of the good stuff made it through. Key word: most.

Lithuania: Run with the Lions

Artist: Jurij Velenko

Language: English

Key: C major

Now we have the last dud entry from Lithuania—every entry of theirs from here on out is fun and interesting in some way! Especially my beloved “Sentimentai”, a song I have a huge fucking crush on.

Even though the singer’s name sounds like “jury”, this song actually scored 8th place in the televote and only 16th place in the jury. Good thing I don’t really care about most non-qualifiers in this semifinal anyway. This is just a generic anonymous four-chord pop ballad by an anonymous-looking guy that goes in one ear and out the other. Charlotte Perrelli (the guest commentator) was audibly unimpressed when this ended.

Semifinal 2 thoughts:

The interval acts and skits are once again full of time-filling bloat, even more blatantly than semifinal 1. I mean seriously, a skit where contestants hold numbers that spell Eurovision, and an interview with Måns Zelmerlöw for like the fifth time in Eurovision history? Well OK, the interview is an advertisement for the final interval act, but it’s still annoying that Kan could only afford one staged interval act: a fairly nice song by a band representing people with various disabilities, which isn’t set apart from the competing entries so it’s doesn’t work well as an interval act. Luckily we then got part 2 of the Eurovision mega-mashup, which is once again buckets of fun and musically great. The sentence mixing in there is especially genius.

In contrast to the first semifinal, the qualifiers this time are completely unsurprising. I bet I would’ve been able to predict all ten in 2019. Maybe I would’ve been a bit shaky in my predictions because Hungary surprisingly didn’t qualify, but I’d have been satisfied to get them correct anyway. The only qualifier I’m a bit sad about is Latvia, but all ten qualifiers I’d say deserved it more. These reveals would’ve soothed my heartbreak about Hungary not qualifying, especially because I find Albania’s song similar in spirit.

Weird that one semifinal succeeded in eliminating all the drivel, and the other threw away some true gems.


Tot de volgende keer als Nederland eindelijk weer Eurovisie wint.

>> 2019 (Final): The Underdog Split Screen We Never Got

Cookie Fonster Sails Across Eurovision 2018 (Final): Elaborate Props and Tight Voting

Intro Post

< 2018 Semfinals | 2018 Final | 2019 Semifinals >

As of the writing, two Swiss cities remain in the running to host Eurovision 2025: Basel with two potential arenas, and Geneva with just one. I’m rooting for Basel because it’s a three hour drive from my grandma’s house in Germany, and thus I’d be more likely to go to next Eurovision if it’s in Basel.


Introduction

In Lisbon, the capital city of Portugal, 26 countries battled on the annual Saturday night to take the prize of Eurovision 2018. It was a tight competition this year, especially among the jury votes where the country on top kept changing. Fortunately, no song came anywhere near zero points this year: on the bottom was Portugal with a still impressive 39 points. Two of the top three are countries we usually don’t see this high. In third place (and first in the jury) came Austria, in second place came a huge fan favorite from Cyprus, and the winner was a more divisive but perhaps more fiercely loved entry from Israel, who took home their fourth victory.

RTP clearly had a lot of fun showcasing their country with this show, but for the opening films they seemed to be on a tight budget—all three nights used the same film. On the other hand, the opening act has an indulgent medley of songs from famous Portuguese artists (including the first proper fado representation in Eurovision!), all sung in Portuguese because this country is too cool for anglophone pop. Then comes a nautical-themed flag parade set to Portuguese DJ music, which is just the most charming thing. As with last year, the host country was introduced last. The postcards are what I would’ve hoped Portugal would do: the artists opening a door to a location in Portugal and performing an activity there. As a soft spot for all things Portuguese, these postcards get my stamp of approval.

I watched the grand final with Finland Swedish commentary, parts of which my friend Liv translated for me. Finland Swedish is intriguing to listen to, because it feels like it’s from a parallel universe where Finnish is a Germanic language. The pronunciation is generally closer to the spelling than in Sweden, it doesn’t do silly things like pronouncing “de” (they) as “dom”* or the singsongy pitch accents, and there’s plenty of words that sound goofy to Swedes, but it’s better to ask a Swedish speaker to explain them. I would nerd about languages more, but that’s not the point of these reviews. These commentators are extremely funny and snooty and I’ll refer to them as the Yle commentators from now on, since that is Finland’s national broadcaster.

* That’s actually a simplified description of something more nuanced, which you can learn about in this video.

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Cookie Fonster Sails Across Eurovision 2018 (Semifinals): A Refreshing Revival of Native Languages

Intro Post

< 2017 Final | 2018 Semifinals | 2018 Final >

Starting from this post, my Eurovision blog schedule will speed up a lot! That’s because I now have a more efficient schedule for when to watch the shows with Liv and when to write the posts.


Introduction

If I had written this post before visiting Gothenburg, Malmö, and Copenhagen for Eurovision 2024, then Eurovision 2018 would be first contest since 1983 to take place in a city I’ve been to: Lisbon, Portugal, a beautiful city that I visited in 2014. I have a huge soft spot for Portugal as a country. It’s a little rustic and less modernized than other western European countries, which gives the country a lot of charm, though Lisbon is very much a modern city deep down. I particularly remember exploring an elaborate network of underground malls there with my dad and sister, and we were all blown away.

But I’m not here to talk about my vacations from a decade ago, I’m here to discuss Eurovision! RTP had waited over 50 years for this opportunity, and I’m blown away by how good of a show they put on. Most of the first-time host broadcasters in the 21st century ranged from “a respectable first attempt” to “ugh, these hosts are stilted and the show is too self-indulgent”. I’d say Finland’s Yle was the best newbie host broadcaster in the 21st century, until Portugal came along. They made their show feel as Portuguese-themed as can be while still passing perfectly as a modern Eurovision year. Hiring four hosts (all women, I can’t remember which is which) is a bit excessive, but they’re enthusiastic and professional exactly as hosts should be. It was one of only two contests in the 21st century (along with 2010) to do away with LED monitors, but this time the stage doesn’t feel any less modern than the last few years.

This contest featured the same lineup as 2017, except Russia came back and for the only time in Eurovision history (unless you count 1996) failed to qualify. This means this year is close to having a complete map of Europe: the most noticeable gaps are Turkey, Slovakia, Bosnia, and Luxembourg. It features an impressive 43 countries, equaling 2008 and 2011 as the years with the most participants.

As with last year, I watched the semifinals together with Liv with Swedish commentary, then alone with German commentary.

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Cookie Fonster’s Wall of Text on Eurovision 2017 (Final): All New Countries in the Top Three

Intro Post

< 2017 Semifinals | 2017 Final | 2018 Semifinals >


Introduction

Hosted in Kyiv, Ukraine, the usual 26 countries battled to see who would be the winner of Eurovision 2017. We start with an opening film showcasing life in Ukraine, then a flag parade that sadly didn’t have physical flags, but instead stylized flags projected onto the LED screen. The flag parade did something unusual reminiscent of the Olympics: Ukraine, the host country, was put last, for the only ever time as far as I’m aware. The Olympics’ flag parades always start with Greece, so I think if we’re going this route, the Eurovision flag parades could start with Switzerland. But then again, that would mean Switzerland would have to qualify every year, and it makes more sense to list the countries in running order anyway.

The top three this year consisted entirely of countries who had never achieved podium places before. Moldova scored third place with a sequel to their Internet meme entry, “Run Away”. Bulgaria scored second place with X Factor jury bait, and most specially of all, 53 years after their first time participating in Eurovision, Portugal FINALLY won the contest with an old-fashioned jazz waltz. Their previous best (and still second highest) result was a sixth place in 1996.

The postcards this year are similar to those of 2016: the contestants performing various activities they like, but not necessarily in their home countries. I like that they all start with the contestants pretending to be still, then they burst into life at the end. I watched the final together with Liv with a mix of Swedish and Norwegian commentary, then by myself with German commentary. Somehow I’m just in a Peter Urban mood this time.

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Cookie Fonster’s Wall of Text on Eurovision 2017 (Semifinals): The Return of Baffling Non-Qualifiers

Intro Post

< 2016 Final | 2017 Semifinals | 2017 Final >

Greetings from Pittsburgh! I wrote this post at home but reread it at my hotel to do finishing touches. I’m staying in this city for a weekend to meet with a couple friends I know due to Homestuck.


Introduction

Jamala’s victory gave Ukraine their second opportunity to host Eurovision, and they naturally had to choose a city. Although Kyiv was clearly by far the best option, five other Ukrainian cities sent bids to host and this caused delays in announcing the host city and venue. In September 2016, UA:PBC finally decided to host Eurovision 2017 in the International Exhibition Centre in Kyiv. The city was better prepared regarding hotels than it was last time it hosted in 2005, but this was still one of the tougher contests for fans to find accommodation.

This contest featured 42 countries, the same number as 2016 but with two swapped. Portugal, who had withdrawn due to a lack of funds, returned to the contest while Bosnia withdrew due to a lack of funds. Romania, who had withdrawn in April after having a song ready, returned to the contest while Russia withdrew in April after having a song ready. That’s right, this year and next year Russia would put the EBU through some of the most annoying bullshit it’s ever suffered.

Eurovision 2017 is notably one of two years hosted entirely by men; the other was Eurovision 1956, with a single male host. This year was hosted by Timur Miroshnychenko (the Ukrainian Eurovision commentator since 2007) and two other dudes who are probably TV hosts or something. I was kind of hoping Timur would seem like the leader of these hosts, but instead he was relegated to the green room for most of the show. I would’ve thought this was because he commentated this year, but this year had substitute Ukrainian commentators.

Bad news: this year has only six native-language songs (actually five native-language songs and one native-language mistake), not counting the songs from English-speaking countries. Good news: all of the native-language songs not from the Big Five qualified this year. Bad news: this post will consist entirely of English-language songs. Good news: this means the final will have a relatively good amount of linguistic diversity, by mid-2010’s standards. I watched the semifinals together with Liv with Swedish commentary (featuring Edward af Sillén and Måns Zelmerlöw), then by myself with German commentary (the usual Peter Urban) as I wrote this post.

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Cookie Fonster Reacts to Eurovision 2016 (Final): A Controversial but Rightful Winner

Intro Post

< 2016 Semifinals | 2016 Final | 2017 Semifinals >

I’ve planned out a schedule for when to watch the 2017 semifinals. If all goes well, I should be able to release the post no later than the morning of July 6, before I leave for a weekend trip to Pittsburgh.


Introduction

Välkommen till Globen i Stockholm, the arena where 26 countries would fight for the prize of the 61st Eurovision Song Contest, hosted by the iconic duo of Petra Mede (audience explodes into cheering and chants her name)

… and Måns Zelmerlöw. (audience cheers, but not quite as loudly)

To start off the final, we got a flag parade set to a medley of EDM songs by Avicii, Swedish House Mafia, and a few other artists, easy to bop your head to and build hype in the audience. The contestants don’t hold physical flags, but instead the colors of each flag are projected onto white outfits worn by background performers. A bit too avant-garde if you ask me, but otherwise a lovely opening.

The postcards this year are simple and ungimmicky. As with 2013, they’re just the contestants doing activities in their home countries. As much as I wish the recent SVT contests showcased Sweden in their postcards, and as disconcerting as the zoom-ins to standing contestants are, it’s good that they stuck to the roots of Eurovision postcards and didn’t do tourism ads or Bible animations. And in any case, I can pretend Hungary’s train station is the Malmö Centralstation if I squint hard enough. But my favorite type of postcards will always be flag-themed.

Russia sent a song blatantly designed to win and it won the televote but only got third place overall. Australia sent a song I would have never expected to do well that won the jury vote, but got only second place over all. The runner-up of both the jury and televote is an absolute masterpiece of a song called “1944”, composed and performed by Jamala from Ukraine, who gave her country its second victory.

The voting was totally revamped from Eurovision 2015. For the first time in Eurovision history, the votes were determined not by a mix of jury and televote, but by the sum of the two. The jury spokespersons announced each country’s 12 points only, and then the hosts revealed the points each country got from the televote one by one. For the first three years of this combined system, the televote points were announced in order from lowest to highest, in a “last man standing” type of system.

I watched the grand final together with Liv with Swedish commentary (not Edward af Sillén this time, but a female radio host who later got fired for sexual harassment), then by myself with British commentary (the usual Graham Norton).

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