1979

00 Turkey
B: I know it was withdrawn prior to the contest, but hey, with YouTube anything is possible! Not that it will count towards the results. For a surprisingly straightforward ballad from Turkey it has some lovely lyrics which showcase the bizarre beauty of the language: “Ben gecemde günümde rüyamda / ... / Güneşte gölgede yağmurda” being an example, and the opening line “Gün gibi belli seni sevdiğim”, given the sweet translation ‘It is as obvious as daylight that I love you’. They’ve had a great run of OTT names as well, haven’t they, for their performers. Maria Rita Epik & 21. Peron?
V: I hadn’t realised Turkey were pressured into pulling out by the Arab nations, who threatened to impose sanctions on the country if the government didn’t withdraw, because they viewed their participation as recognition of Israel. Given how sweet and innocent the song is only makes such a situation seem even more ridiculous. It’s one of those entries that doesn’t sound particularly like it comes from Turkey at all. I rather like it. (Not for that reason!)

And now for the contest proper:

01 Portugal
B: Kite-flying was clearly so 1978. I wonder where they would have gone next if they’d continued the theme – paper aeroplanes? The lyrics here go on forever despite the fact that there’s only about five of them. With lines like “Quanto mais não vale viver a vida assim?” this is clearly striving to be a wrapped-up-in-love kind of song, but to me it comes across as simply blinkered.
A: I was all prepared to say: “This comes from the same composer as Sol de inverno?” but I see they’ve tried to make something a little more meaningful out of it than the lyrics would suggest. The strings are lovely actually, and it’s a rather rewarding composition overall. There’s something about it that makes me think it should come from France rather than Portugal.
V: They overdo the yellow a bit, but the performance is nice. The way the backing vocalists swivel at the hips you’d expect them to reveal they’re standing in a huge vat crushing grapes with their bare feet.

02 Italy
B: Plenty of romanticism here in lines like “Quando un raggio di luna / Tra il cielo e le stelle, si accorge di me”.
A: Some unexpected Pet Shop Boys Disco2 sound effects there at the beginning. Familiar-sounding song this, despite the touches they’ve added to it to set it apart. Musically it has one foot in the ’70s and the other in the ’80s. I find it meanders when it could have forged a more straightforward course.
V: The sound mix is a bit out for this, and there’s something about Mr Bazar’s vocals that makes them sound like they’re only just clinging on to the right notes. The song is by no means bad, but it doesn’t really work in this context.

03 Denmark
B: Keld Heick was the very definition of prolific, writing virtually every other Danish entry for the next 15 years. Here the lyrics verge on the Austrian, but they have a slight kookiness about them which sets them apart. I’m assuming “Hun kræver action, det’ det samme hver eneste dag / Hvad mon det er, hun vil ha’?” is a rhetorical question.
A: Half the song’s over before it even reaches the chorus. Probably because of what we’ve had since, this comes across as something the Finns would try to copy from Sweden without as much success. Apart from the cheese factor, it’s not all that far from what Benny & Bjorn were doing around the same time. Inevitably, I like it.
V: Debbie Cameron on backing vocals here, I see. A good sign if ever there was one. She looks like she can barely contain herself for most of it. Tommy Seebach’s hair is almost big enough to qualify for an entry of its own. Good vocals all round, but it’s all just a little bit too static to take off the way it wants and needs to.

04 Ireland
B: Cathal’s rather hirsute, I see. Banal lyrics.
A: “No special meaning or plan” sums up the way this song unfolds, at least until it reaches the chorus, which is strong. This is lucky, as the chorus represents about 80% of the song, which feels like it goes on for about 10 minutes. Do I detect the ding-dong of a glockenspiel?
V: Is that Dustin the Turkey dancing the jig in the postcard? The lighting for this is the most effective there’s been so far. Cathal certainly sells what is essentially a rather repetitive and uninteresting number, and the orchestral accompaniment doesn’t hurt.

05 Finland
B: Katri Helena looks like she’s about two metres tall. The essence of the lyrics here is very French, and I wouldn’t have been surprised to see it do better sung in basically any language other than Finnish.
A: Of Katri Helena’s two entries, this is far and away the better. It would probably have come across as more contemporary in 1993 (as retro-disco) than Tule luo, ironically. It’s not bad overall. Strange to think it was composed by Fredi of Varjoon - suojaan and Pump Pump fame, but then I suppose that’s the mark of a good composer.
V: The rhyme in the chorus just doesn’t make for fun listening, or viewing, like they’re trying to fit whole melons in their mouths. In contrast to Ireland, this is much stronger in studio than on stage, regardless of the power of Katri’s vocals (and the way she holds that last note).

06 Monaco
B: In an incongruous first, the protagonist here basically admits to being a pervy Hell’s Angel with a penchant for disco.
A: This is indeed as discotastic as it gets, so far. The strings must have sprained themselves stupid in the end section. It’s rather catchy in its way, although screaming out to be sung by a woman.
V: Yes, this doesn’t really work on any level. Mr Vaguener doesn’t have a voice that makes me want to listen to him for more than the three minutes I’m required to, and it’s funny how farty a bass guitar can sound. What made them pull out though? They’d been doing rather well for themselves. Boggles the mind, rather like Denmark. I’d hate to think it was just down to some intransigent director-general and his dislike for the contest.

07 Greece
B: ‘Socrates, you superstar!’ sounds so unlikely.
A: When this is just being acoustic and strings and Elpida’s vocals without any backing – i.e. in a handful of lines in the verses – I’m rather enamoured of it. Elsewhere, maintaining any enthusiasm for it is more of a struggle. As an aside, the Greek accent often comes across to me as if it’s being put on for some kind of effect I can never quite fathom.
V: Was it really this directionless in the studio version? Elpida needs better backing vocalists and better choreography. It’s bizarre that only seven years later she’d look about 30 years older. Maybe she aged out of sympathy for the classical figure she sings her ode to here. (I blame the ’80s perm.)

08 Switzerland
B: It’s the omnipresent Peter, Sue and Marc. “So was wie uns sah die Welt noch nie” may have been true at the time, but why do I suspect this will nevertheless be the kind of number Eurovision had seen a hundred times?
A: Yes, well, I’ve had enough of this before the minute mark. The first 15 seconds or so showed a promise I fleetingly hoped might be lived up to, but the only sections that do are the almost Jamaican kettle-drum instrumental breaks. German just does not fit this song, which has its basis in a good if slightly overbaked idea, and neither do Sue’s prissy vocals. Peter’s or Marc’s (whoever takes the male lead) suit it much better.
V: The director clearly thought there was enough colour in the performance not to bother with anything other than a petri dish-grey background. The stage act falls oddly flat.

09 Germany
B: I love the fact that one of the group is called Edina Pop and that she appears to be wearing an outfit (and hairstyle) borrowed from The Tomorrow People. Socrates from Greece I can understand, but Genghis Khan from Germany? Not that there should be any logic to it. From the lyrics alone it comes across as the kind of thing that would enjoy more success these days than it did back then. Then again, 4th is a pretty decent result. I love the way the list of things said to be unable to stop him seems to include Santa’s reindeer.
A: Forget Monaco: Boney M, anyone?
V: This takes Eurovision camp to new heights. It just works, doesn’t it, even in German, and despite the less than impressive vocals.

10 Israel
B: Lyricist Kobi Oshrat went from this to the likes of Olé olé and Ze rak sport. Let’s just sit with that for a while.
A: More of a hymn than an anthem, this is one of the most enduring songs in the contest’s history, and as such it’s a little hard to get any perspective on it. It’s certainly sweet and simple, and very effective. The contrast with Germany couldn’t be more stark, and it benefits both. As successful as it is though, my one criticism of Hallelujah is that musically it doesn’t stretch itself any further than it absolutely has to. Then again, why bother if it works anyway?
V: It’s easy to see why this won, but just as easy to see why it wasn’t a runaway winner. It takes a while to get going, but once it does, from about the halfway point onwards, it’s great, and the ending is fantastic.

11 France
B: With the performer, lyricist and composer all having wins under their belts, this certainly has the credentials. “Le printemps sur son manège déroulait pour nous ses arcs-en-ciel” is just one example of the poetry happening here in the story-telling.
A: I do like the way this eschews an easy melody. The woodwind is lovely, too. As stories go, however, it’s told in a very monotonous way.
V: Can’t add much to that. It’s classy, but doesn’t have anywhere near the impact it ought to.

12 Belgium
B: Why do I suspect with lines like “Zou dat niet heerlijk zijn voor jou en mij?” that the prospect of marrying Ms Marah might not fill the pantoffelheld with much enthusiasm?
A: How characterless this would be without its strings. It has to get to the 90-second mark before I’m convinced it’s worth listening to at all. The ‘hey hey nana nanana nanana’s – which could easily have been the undoing of the whole shebang – are the best bits of the song.
V: This works a whole lot better than it should. Oddly, Micha looks like her face has been added in post-production.

13 Luxembourg
B: The title here is quite clever in that when she says “J'ai déjà vu ça dans tes yeux” she’s actually referring to a reflection. Or is that looking at it all a bit too much?
A: Love the extended piano entry. Love it all really. Seems very early ’80s to me, and more American than European, although the string break redresses the balance somewhat.
V: I really don’t know why, but this works for me. Were everyone’s backing vocalists obliged to stand in a line in 1979?

14 The Netherlands
B: Xandra xooms into the fashion black hole of the 1980s a year ahead of time. Was outback America a popular destination for continental jet-setters in the late ’70s? I can’t imagine why else they’d be singing about it. I pray that “in het zadel” is a Dutch double entendre.
A: Catchy from the off. Can you imagine any ESC country apart from the Netherlands singing about a US state? The only one that springs to mind is Austria, and they wouldn’t come up with anything nearly as solid as this. The bit at the end of each chorus is great.
V: And why don’t all songs start with the chorus? They make a great hook when they’re this good and when there’s this much energy in the performance. Clever use of Dutch to sound exactly like English for much of it.

15 Sweden
B: Glad he’s not afraid of flying, with lapels like those.
A: The Swedes obviously went through a semi-hard rock phase in the late ’70s and early ’80s, but this chorus is too poppy for something pretending to be more plug-in-and-crank-up than shang-a-lang. The electric guitar fits in with the whole satellite thing, I suppose.
V: I like the way the backdrop is colour-coordinated with his fetching stripy knitted top. This is an example of when Swedish sounds a bit feeble though, especially when you’re dressed like that.

16 Norway
B: Anita Skorgan looks like she’s being held up by her eyebrows in that screengrab on Diggiloo. I rather like the inevitability-laden lyrics.
A: Competent, but they’re clearly not trying very hard, and Ms Skorgan’s attempts at Frère Jacques breathy delivery are singularly unsuccessful.
V: All of the women seem to be about eight foot tall this year for some reason. While no one’s hit a bum note to this point, this must easily qualify as the weakest vocal performance of the evening, or the least impressive anyway. Pity, as the song itself is OK.

17 United Kingdom
B: Black Lace were quite big in their way, weren’t they? I like their lyrics – full of a sense of blurting something out without really thinking about it (eg “Just when I reached for you / Like I usually do / I found her instead”).
A: Oh so British. The way the music and vocals build as the action of the lyrics does is neatly done. There’s something about the composition that ties in very nicely with the story that’s being told.
V: You can see who Justin Hawkins styled himself on. Not sure this has the oomph I’d like it to have live; there’s definitely something’s missing. Good song all the same.

18 Austria
B: Markedly ignored by the Israeli jury – perhaps because it would come across as rewarding the teacher’s pet – this actually seems rather nice. “Seht, aus der Kühle hoher Luft / Da fallen hundert Monde” paints a pretty picture, although before I thought about it I assumed they were talking about missiles.
A: Anthems in German always have to try a lot harder, because the language makes them sound so insincere. If this was in English, for example, I’d probably have fallen for it head over heels, in spite of the saxophone. It’s really quite different for Eurovision and probably deserved more than it got.
V: Interesting hair. Gets the thumbs up from me for sounding nothing like anything else.

19 Spain
B: It’s like a glamorous but slightly stern-looking school teacher learning something from her pupils. I suppose it’s rather sweet.
A: The way Ms Missiego sings makes it sound like she’s twitching her nose, constantly on the verge of sneezing. This is a bit too plonk-plonk la-la to take it very seriously, which is no doubt why it went down so well with the juries of the day. It presses all the wrong buttons for me: mostly the ‘off’ one.
V: Do you think she has some strange syndrome where she has to hold her arms at right angles or higher at all times? As far as I’m concerned, the kids can all go back to the breakfast cereal ad they came from, and take the song with them. [Addendum] Aargh! There’s an even cheaper trick at the end!


And so to the points...

1 point goes to Belgium

2 points go to Austria

3 points go to Finland

4 points go to Luxembourg

5 points go to Portugal

6 points go to Denmark

7 points go to the United Kingdom

8 points go to Israel

10 points go to Germany

and finally...

12 points go to...


The Netherlands!


The wooden spoon goes to Greece (again).