01 The Netherlands
B: There’s a kind of hopeful resignation to this that I like, and that renders lines like “’k Heb veel mannen gekend” less something she’s boasting about and more something that’s tinged with regret. Unlike 99% of love songs, this one accepts that being in a relationship which makes you happy some of the time is better than always chasing and never finding one that makes you happy all of the time.
A: The composition’s certainly full of character. I like the dramatic punctuation a lot of the instruments provide.
V: I love the dramatic punctuation Conny provides! Terrific visual performance of what is still essentially an aural medium.
02 United Kingdom
B: Ms Kirby has clearly had better luck than Ms Vandenbos!
A: Doesn’t take you long to get the message, does it. Quintessential ’60s percussion.
V: She looks like a wig-modelling blow-up doll. You’ve just got to love her, from the way she barely makes it to the microphone before the first line to the fantastic vocals she delivers from that point onwards. Bubbly and gorgeous.
03 Spain
B: This can’t help but come across as deluded after the Netherlands and the UK with lines like “Qué bueno… / Saber que es sincero el amor que me das”.
A: Love the vocals, and that in spite of the very Spanish sound, this still manages to incorporate that wibbly organ the Dutch entry made so prominent. Frenetic arrangement – frantic even – but it suits the feel of the song.
V: Quality wall-to-wall so far. Ms Bautista’s looking every bit the sex kitten here, compared to the twin-set and pearls version we were given in 1961. That said, you get the sense that she reins in her penchant for all things flamenco lest she seem too excitable and not demure enough.
04 Ireland
B: Not a terribly butch set of lyrics for Mr Moore, but that’s why they appeal to me.
A: Sounds like one of the lesser tracks Nick Berry would have covered for a songs-from-and-inspired-by Heartbeat soundtrack. Doesn’t do much wrong, but the choice of instruments and the backing vocals see it come across as cloyingly sentimental at times.
V: You never think for a second that any of these singers are going to put in a duff performance, do you. Not even the slightly slappable ‘Buch’, as hostessa-with-the-mostessa Renato Mauro dubs him.
05 Germany
B: This is basically the previous four songs rolled into one.
A: The way the strings seem to guide the vocal arrangement in the chorus is inspired, and the bass is fantastic.
V: The hair just keeps on piling up! Ulla comes across as slightly awkward until you realise she’s just acting the part.
06 Austria
B: What a bunch of sad cases! I hope Udo and Butch took to the pub after the show to drown their sorrows.
A: Accomplished enough, but singularly uninvolving.
V: Ooh, a camera that moves! That’s an innovation. Udo’s looking very smart and clean-cut here. The staging suits the song well.
07 Norway
B: I love the fact that the composer+lyricist is called Jolly! The metaphor of the merry-go-round is quite clever, and it’s nice to see that the young lady at the centre of it is spoilt for choice, unlike her rather maudlin competitors. Plenty of innuendo to enjoy here, too – “Mamma, hvem skal jeg kjøre med først? / Kanskje Arne for han er jo størst?” being a perfect example!
A: This is precisely the kind of thing you’d expect from a song like this, which is probably a good thing, but possibly also indicative of a lack of imagination. It’s also something of a throwback to the entries of the ’50s and is unbendingly prim compared with the likes of I Belong.
V: School girl and sailor boy in one. How harsh these ’60s scoring systems were, with Ms Sparboe here collecting just 1 of the 4 points she would earn in total from three outings.
08 Belgium
B: “Ik spaar de druppels van de dauw” looks like an entry in a Loveliest Textbook Dutch Sentence competition. I like the ebb and flow of “Ik tel de sterren van april die aan de hemel staan”, too.
A: Dutch has rarely sounded this inviting. The arrangement underpinning the song isn’t very inspiring, but every so often something comes along that makes me overlook it.
V: Ms Marke appears to be wearing a lace doily for a shawl. Lovely performance.
09 Monaco
B: I know it’s not Monaco’s fault, but all these lyrics are blurring into one at this point. If you heard nothing but the third ‘verse’ you might assume it was a song about a troubled teen or something, and that it was therefore more arresting. But you’d be mistaken.
A: The conversational tone of the lyrics is perfectly captured in the composition here, which has lots of lovely flourishes. The woodwind being not the least of them.
V: Vocally Ms Noël hits all the notes, but visually she only hits one, and for the entirety of the song her head lolls about like a bladder on a stick. It’s the personification of the ‘la la la’ that the song itself lacks, I suppose.
10 Sweden
B: “We ought to walk where the cowslips grow / Behind the hedge of candescent sloe” peaks one’s interest momentarily, but is also indicative of the clunkiness of these lyrics. I wish Alf Henriksson had had a better handle on conditional clauses. Singing in English might have come quite naturally for a lot of these performers at the time, but I’m not upset that this entry brought about the enforcement of the language rule.
A: The ‘yearning and lust’ the night is allegedly full of is provided almost single-handedly by the oboe (clarinet?): our Ingvar sounds altogether too solemn – as does the composition – for a song meant to be about a lovely spring night, however sad and lonely you are.
V: Mr Wixell has a wonderful voice for theatre, of which this is essentially three minutes, minus the trappings. Best orchestral arrangement so far.
11 France
B: I love the disclaimer on Diggiloo that despite the ambiguity of the French and Italian versions, Guy Mardel really is singing about a woman. I prefer to think otherwise. Talk about ‘sowing doubt’! Oh, and I love the line “Sois celui que l’on aime pour ce qu’il ne dit pas”.
A: I like the way the piano acts as a surrogate double bass here. I could be harsh and say it’s about the only interesting aspect of the music, but I won’t.
V: Guy might be smiling, but it’s not a very excited performance. His mouth seems to be able to make about three shapes.
12 Portugal
B: Finally some bitterness! “Sabe Deus que eu quis contigo ser feliz” makes a great opening line. For the first time since ’t is genoeg we actually have some realism in our lyrics. And we have another great name in our lyricist, too: Jerónimo!
A: Wonderful vocal arrangement. Wonderful arrangement generally – one which both skirts and eschews the obvious for much of the time.
V: So many Portuguese songs seem to have so much emotional intensity behind them, and this is no exception. Powerful performance from Ms de Oliviera, who has a fabulous sparkly frock.
13 Italy
B: “Ricorda sempre: quel che tu fai / Sopra il mio volto lo rivedrai” leaves itself somewhat open.
A: There’s not much to comment on here, given it’s the nearest we’ve ever come in Eurovision to a true rock’n’roll ballad and that it only has about four component parts. Neatly arranged as they are.
V: ‘Bobby Solo’ looks (and sounds) like a leftover from the ’50s. The way the orchestra takes the lead here tends to bolster that impression.
14 Denmark
B: Ms Brüel wipes the floor with her forlorn friends with a set of lyrics as mature as any you might see. I’m particularly enamoured of “Jeg er træt af min kvindelighed / For den bli’r du så bredskuldret af” and the way the whole thing comes full circle from the ‘rustling skirts’ to her threat to sashay her way out of his life.
A: Very self-aware arrangement, this. Many of the more typical elements are rendered in a way that reflects the fragility of the lyrics. It doesn’t instantly capture you, but it puts you on your guard: you’re aware there’s something about it that’s treading a very fine line. Complex and rewarding.
V: Just look at the subtle changes in her expression in the course of this performance!
15 Luxembourg
B: Honest and at times biting lyrics which are always but never obtrusively self-referential.
A: The way the strings pull everything together is very clever, as is the way the vocals and music are so closely intertwined. I still find France Gall’s voice a little hard to take to, but at the same time it suits the song perfectly.
V: Minimalist, but with enough rudimentary movement and expression to make it work. Plus she’s as cute as a button.
16 Finland
B: A slightly more poetic and less venomous retelling of the Portuguese story. I particularly like the lines “Onneni auringon luulin taivaalle seisahtuneen / Kunnes näin sammuvan välkkeen kuohussa tulisen veen”.
A: The choice of instruments feels right. Can’t think of much else to say about this, apart from that it tends to go on a bit.
V: How ironic that the Finns – who have some of the most pronounced bone structure of any nationality in the world – should be trounced by the vision in jaw and cheek bones that is Viktor Klimenko. Not sure about the Abraham Lincoln face fuzz, or his duel to the death with Simone de Oliviera in the sparkly outfit stakes, but his vocals are wonderful.
17 Yugoslavia
B: Despite falling into pretty much the same category as every other song this year, there’s an inherent sexiness to imagery like ‘ljubav rođenoj na tlu vreloga juga’. Or perhaps I just wouldn’t have said no to a fumble in the sand with the likes of Mr Vukov on some secluded Croatian beach.
A: Now that’s how you get longing across without it sounding like you’re stalking someone. This is from a different era altogether to the likes of Poupée de cire, poupée de son, but the subdued moments where it’s just Vice’s vocals and the piano are beautiful. They could have done away with the strings and percussion if you ask me – and it’s not often you’ll hear me saying something like that.
V: Vice seems really in the moment here, at least when he’s not coming across as slightly awkward around the camera. Fantastic vocals, and one of the best renditions by the orchestra of the night.
18 Switzerland
B: “Tu n’as rien compris” summarises my position after reading these lyrics. Is she taking the Danish stance to its logical conclusion and tossing her good-for-nothing man out on his ear? All power to her if so.
A: It’s chanson, but with an organ. Sung by a Greek woman. Albeit clearly one who had a handle on the language, setting her apart from those normally drafted in by the likes of Monaco and Luxembourg. Nice enough, but instantly forgettable.
V: Someone fetch the smelling salts – her eyes are rolling back in her head! She seems more impassioned about the song than anyone else is, but her fine vocals can’t disguise the fact that it just sounds old and ever so slightly dull.
And so to the points...
1 point goes to Monaco
2 points go to Belgium
3 points go to the Netherlands
4 points go to Germany
5 points go to Spain
6 points go to Yugoslavia
7 points go to Luxembourg
8 points go to the United Kingdom
10 points go to Portugal
and finally...
12 points go to...
Denmark!
The wooden spoon is awarded to Norway.
No comments:
Post a Comment