01 Finland
B: Carita’s promise to give her lover ‘morning winds’ makes me wonder what her usual supper menu consists of.
A: Every time I hear this I find myself wondering why I don’t like it more, and then I realise that as lovely as it is, it’s also entirely unremarkable.
V: Great performance from Carita – whose eyebrows seem to be migrating up her forehead, perhaps out of a secret desire to join the bouffant of hair nestled above – although she might as well not be playing the piano for all but the bridge, since you can’t hear it. That, however, is because the arrangement (orchestral and otherwise) is brilliant. I love the hint of wakka-wakka guitar we get every now and then.
02 United Kingdom
B: I didn’t know who the Sally Annie Band were for the longest time, so I was amused to find that Valerie Avon and Harold Spiro’s lyrics seem to take the piss out of them in lines like “When you feel the spirit move ya / Glory, glory, hallelujah”.
A: Written for Eurovision if ever a song was. Or were the early ’70s hit parades in the UK really populated with such contrived numbers? Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Musically it does feel like a list’s being checked off as they go though.
V: Now we know where Yohanna recycled her dress from for Moscow. Eurovision has only ever featured or produced a handful of household names, so it’s odd that two of them pop up in the same year. Ms Neutron-Bomb’s performance is strangely uninvolving, and is not helped by the fact that the orchestra seem to reduce the composition to about three elements. But she looks gorgeous.
03 Spain
B: There’s a lightness to these lyrics that I like. Peret might waggle a finger in “Si para olvidar las penas necesitas tomar vino / No lo hagas buen amigo”, but at the same time he seems more than happy to advocate chucking a few back if you’re in the party mood!
A: Within a few bars this is displaying more imagination and finesse than either of the previous entries. The arrangement in the verses is surprisingly subtle given how blatantly hoppa! the choruses are. The balance between the two is sublime. I’m absorbed by the cleverness of the music for half the song and singing along with the best of them for the rest.
V: Check out the Brillo pad backing singers – you could scour an oven with that hair! Peret’s a great performer and really takes this where it needs to go. The orchestral arrangement doesn’t do the song a whole lot of favours, but the presentation makes up for it. Love the early ’70s version of the clip-on microphone!
04 Norway
B: The most unlikely hymn to revolution in the contest’s history, surely. Even if she were banging on about the sexual revolution or flower power or whatever, she’d be how many years late...?
A: The structure is by far the most interesting thing about this song. Rather like the Finnish entry, it feels like it has nothing whatsoever to do with the country it comes from. Great use of backing vocals to add an extra layer to the composition.
V: Does what it sets out to do, I suppose.
05 Greece
B: Even less pretentious than Canta y sé feliz (to wit: not at all). You’ve got to love anyone whose criteria for a happy life extend no further than alcohol, a bit of sunshine and someone to shag.
A: Bright, breezy and with a suggestion that if the ouzo shots haven’t been poured already they soon will be. And voila: off they go with the ‘la las’.
V: Marinella (how do you get that out of Kiriaki Kiriazopoulou?) is great, but her stripy blouse is the most exciting thing about this performance. The backing vocalists look like they’d rather not be there.
06 Israel
B: Great set of lyrics. I particularly like the opening lines.
A: Inventive, this. The arrangement of both the music and vocals could have been a whole lot more pedestrian, and therefore far less interesting, but I’m not bored by this for a second.
V: Love the knitted tops, but this is as flat as a tack. Danny Sanderson has to be American with those teeth.
07 Yugoslavia
B: Why does this come across as though he’s longing for the war-torn days of his childhood?
A: This has more of a late ’60s than early ’70s feel to it to me. Perhaps Yugoslavia was always in a bit of a timewarp. This is just as not-lazy as the Israeli entry in terms of what it does with its music (as opposed to what it could have settled for) but it’s not as interesting.
V: Great vocals, and loads of personality; not sure about the outfits. Zlatko Pejaković and the other members of Korni have more than enough hair between them to rival the Israeli lads that took to the stage ahead of them.
08 Sweden
B: Clever use of metaphor here. It took me years to realise that the first line of the chorus wasn’t “I was defeating you on the wall”, despite the fact that I never had any idea what that should mean.
A: This isn’t even ABBA’s best song, but it’s still pop perfection. It’s a completely different kind of upbeat to the Spanish entry, grabbing you instantly and never letting go.
V: The comparatively huge reception this gets is testament to the fact that it’s the first real performance of the contest and has undeniable pop appeal. It’s far from Frida and Agnetha’s finest hour vocally, and there’s a feeling of the group still being quite raw at this point, but everything points towards them becoming the huge stars they would go on to be.
09 Luxembourg
B: For someone who didn’t really speak French at the start of summer, Ireen Sheer’s not doing too badly for herself a few months later! I appreciate the conceit of explaining away her appalling accent in the lyrics.
A: Exactly the kind of pim-pom predictability I was thrilled to see Israel eschew. There’s little that’s intrinsically wrong with it, but coming after something as vibrant as Waterloo does it no favours.
V: Aah, the innocence of an era in which pastel green and lilac were thought to offset one another attractively! Ralph Siegel is irritating from the off here.
10 Monaco
B: This is the perfect accompaniment to Bye Bye, I Love You. “Mais déjà ‘nous’ voilà devenus ‘toi et moi’” is my favourite line for being so cleverly constructed. The insistence on ‘he’ and ‘his’ in the translation on Diggiloo adds a frisson of excitement in making you wonder who’s who in the lyrics.
A: The whole thing’s very cleverly constructed, as it turns out. I never remember the rest of the song, but the chorus sticks in your head and refuses to budge: this is one of very few songs from this era that just pops up in my mind, entirely unbidden, time and again. The arrangement goes places you might not expect it to, which is a boon. The only disappointment is that I’d like the ending to be much bigger than it is.
V: Did the backing singers for Luxembourg forget to exit the stage before Romuald came on? The ’70s haven’t done anything to make him any less easy on the eye, however hard the glammed-up suit tries. Convincing in a very dated kind of way.
11 Belgium
B: Airy-fairy lyrics. “Est-ce bien ici que tu vis / Dans ce palais de verre et de ciment” puts me in mind of Notre planète. I’m not sure this is a good thing.
A: It would be hard to find a more perfunctory introduction to a Eurovision song, but at least it cuts to the chase. Pity the rest of it is as meandering as it is. I have no complaints about the quality; the scope, perhaps, but not the quality. Apart from the beginning. Oh, and the ending, which is even more abrupt.
V: He clearly means what he’s saying. Those lapels are taking the piss even for the ’70s, no?
12 The Netherlands
B: “I see a star, a brand new star / It’s right there, twinklin’ in your eyes” works for me.
A: I’ve never been a fan of the street theatre genre, but this must be one of the best examples of it in the contest. And I suppose it’s Dutch. Catchy chorus.
V: Ooh, it’s a novelty entry. Which is slightly ironic, since the orchestra gives us probably the best rendition of the night. Mouth looks like a Muppet.
13 Ireland
B: One long list of clichés. Next.
A: [Mimes jaunty playing of piano and drums.] There’s absolutely nothing wrong with this, but it’s part of a line-up where the likes of it are all too common for it to truly stand out.
V: But in fact it does. Another great arrangement for and performance by the orchestra here, and the vocals are spot-on. Question: Did microphones come at a premium back in the day? Why are all the backing vocalists forced to huddle around them?
14 Germany
B: They were big on wringing their hands over summer flings in the ’70s, weren’t they.
A: This is great when it’s just being acoustic. The harmonies throughout are probably technically laudable but don’t make for enjoyable listening when it’s Bert who’s carrying them. Is the bouzouki meant to place this particular sun-soaked love affair on a Greek island?
V: The fabulousness that is Cindy’s dress is disastrously countered by Bert’s outfit. The harmonies sound better live but still fail to earn my approval. The static performance doesn’t do much for the song either.
15 Switzerland
B: For a song dripping in romance, “Sehnsucht nach der Vergangenheit” is a very clunky opening line. But that’s German for you.
A: They get away with it somehow, probably because the song itself is lovely. Anything that makes such prominent use of woodwind like that is going to win me over.
V: The verses are rather intense, aren’t they. I’d much rather there was a lightness to them. Still, the vocals are excellent.
16 Portugal
B: I wonder whether Paulo de Carvalho revealed more than he intended to with “Tu te deste em amor, eu nada te dei / Em teu corpo… eu adormeci”. The whole thing’s very honest, and graphic in a poetic kind of way. I see Portugal were only marginally more successful depois do adeus than they were antes do adeus.
A: Understated in a good way, although you can understand why it failed to set the scoreboard alight. It doesn’t really come into its own until it’s too late. There are some lovely touches to the composition.
V: When he’s not in close-up, Paulo looks like he’s wearing a mouth guard. His vocals make it clear that he isn’t, of course: this is a powerhouse performance. Slightly uninvolving though, as songs go.
17 Italy
B: Who would have thought the tail-end of 1974 would be so sex-obsessed? Insightful lyrics in lines like “Per paura o per amore / Non me lo chiesi mai”, but then the Italians could always be trusted to come up with something wonderful. I love the transformation Gigliola has undergone between then and now: the shy girl of Non ho l’età has well and truly grown up.
A: Evocative and accomplished, yet my admiration for it remains respectful rather than profuse.
V: That said, this performance is engrossing: orchestration, performance, everything.
And so to the points...
1 point goes to Yugoslavia
2 points go to Israel
3 points go to Monaco
4 points go to the Netherlands
5 points go to Ireland
6 points go to Portugal
7 points go to Switzerland
8 points go to Spain
10 points go to Sweden
and finally...
12 points go to...
Italy!
The wooden spoon is awarded to Germany.
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