01 Iceland
B: The fact that the lyrics here actually have something to say – albeit not as poetically as the original Icelandic ones – is proof that you can translate things and not make them banal in the process if you actually try.
A: Iceland never skimp, do they, even when they’re producing something essentially throwaway: this has layers of richness you only find in truly good pop songs, of which I’ve always thought this is a flawless example. Mind you, I know at least two people who hate it for that very reason, finding it unbelievably predictable.
V: Lovely performance, with a great ending. The music, lighting and direction gel perfectly.
02 Austria
B: Zany as this is, it does have a message, and it’s one I appreciate.
A: Having said that, I tend to leave it rather than take it as a piece of music, despite the fact that its subtleties are often overlooked and that its Jekyll & Hyde nature is quite appropriate.
V: Even if you don’t like it, you have to admire it for working so well on stage. As a piece of theatre it’s pretty much genius.
03 Ireland
B: I have my doubts that a lot of time and effort went into these lyrics, but I like the lines “Ask me why / My feet never touch the ground / ... / You take my breath away”.
A: They didn’t go to a lot of trouble with the music either, if I’m honest. It’s effective, but there’s no getting round the fact that it sounds like something written for a finalist in a TV music contest.
V: Ireland strikes back with something prodigiously uninspired but completely lovable and, IMO, deserving of its top 10 finish. News of Mickey’s dad’s death just prior to the contest had me rooting for him all the way, and I was sure towards the end that he was choking back the tears. Might have been an eyelash though. Great staging again.
04 Turkey
B: The banality of the chorus here – “I’ll cry slash I’ll die slash make you mine again” – is offset superbly by some spot-on lines like “You say you love me and you roll your eyes / Turn to stare at the empty skies”.
A: If Andorra ever required proof that you don’t have to sacrifice your virtue in order to be successful at Eurovision, they need look no further than this song. All the more so since they’re prodigious remixers, which is what got this over the line. In fact, the finesse with which it was shaped from nothing into something is astonishing: the version on the official CD pales in comparison to the version we got in Riga.
V: It’s no surprise Turkey won with this, their most Western entry in many respects, although the music, arrangement and presentation all scream ‘different culture’ in the best way possible. Triumphant performance, despite a few vocal wobbles, and a true benchmark for years to come.
05 Malta
B: How many cliches does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: This remix is a vast improvement on the original, which it either completely is or completely isn’t with Malta. It’s the kind of thing that’s been coming second-last in national finals the length and breadth of Europe for the better part of 50 years, so it was only fitting that it slotted neatly into 25th place in Riga.
V: Boring, overlong and flat as a tack. Lynn seems lovely, but there was little she could have done to make much of this. Great camerawork again though, and the backing vocals are good.
06 Bosnia and Herzegovina
B: It took me years, but it was nice to finally discover that “Sava Raka tika taka bija baja buf” actually means something. Nevertheless, I think I was justified in assuming it was a load of cobblers.
A: This is a perfect example of composers fucking up a good song for no discernible reason. The crash-bang-wallop strips it of character and of the sassy appeal that makes the far more discotastic original version the only one I ever listen to. Oh, and the English version’s shit.
V: This sounds completely out of tune live, and only comes together in the last 30 seconds or so – not coincidentally when it starts to sound more like the original. Such a shame. I had high hopes for it, but I really can’t stand the as-broadcast version, despite Mija’s huge vocal turn.
07 Portugal
B: There’s more than a hint of poetry about that entire opening verse.
A: This is completely hopeless as a Eurovision entry anywhere this side of the mid-’90s, but I absolutely adore it. It presses all my big-ballad buttons at once.
V: Our Rita gives a diva’s performance that brings me out in goosebumps every time. The lighting, staging and camerawork are also generally excellent, although I could pick the latter’s zooms and what have you well before they happened from knowledge of the kind of tricks director Marius Bratten went for. I love some of the little touches here, too, like the exaggerated breath on ‘levo arrrrrrrr’.
08 Croatia
B: “I tko si ti sada da mi sudiš?” They’re called the televoting hordes of Europe, love.
A: This song is brilliant... if you like the Britney Spears/Backstreet Boys brand of pre-programmed pop. I tend to, needless to say.
V: I’d assumed Ms Beni would be hopeless, but of course she’s not. Clever stage routine, helped by more great lighting. It loses it a bit when they collapse into English, but they bring it back together with that great ending of Claudia rolling her eyes, jumping (well, being lifted) into the arms of the hunky dancers* and giggling away.
*The one and only time Andrej Babić has caught my eye. For me though it’s the quieter one, as it always tends to be.
09 Cyprus
B: Kudos to Stelios for performing a song he’d composed and written himself, but couldn’t he at least have made some effort where the lyrics were concerned? These must go down as some of the most trite and perfunctory in the history of the contest.
A: If this wasn’t DOA, it certainly dies after about two minutes. But then it just goes on and on and on. And I accused Malta of being too long! The only musical thing I like is the guitar strumming through it.
V: At least we have Stelios to look at; the Cypriot postcard was the only one to stir any sort of interest in me once he got into his shorts. (What is it with hairy-legged Greeks and football in Eurovision postcards?) The cheesy – if pretty – choreography raises more eyebrows than it does smiles.
10 Germany
B: Utter shite.
A: I’ve never liked this much, or found anything to redeem it lyrically or musically. But it seems to suit the occasion.
V: Why does Germany only do well with this kind of thing when they’re deliberately playing it up? It’s not like it’s that different to their entry of a year earlier, although I suppose it is much more of a party song. The question answers itself, in any case.
11 Russia
B: These lyrics remain... intriguing.
A: Here’s another remix that does very little for me when the original was so strong. Still, it’s as well produced as most Russian entries, with some fabulous synths. It stands out a mile from everything else.
V: Cue pantomime villains! I’d been cynical about them representing Russia, but when I heard the song I relented. Then they made a pig’s arse of it and that was that. A truly awful vocal performance from the red-haired one, which is no surprise really: she can’t sing. The whole approach is lazy. I was gobsmacked when I first saw it and appalled that they were so well rewarded for it. Excellent lighting though.
12 Spain
B: Lyrics: love ’em. Especially the lines “No permitas que el orgullo sea / Quien decida por los dos”, which must be the death knell of many a relationship.
A: This has the advantage over We’ve Got the World of not sounding like it was written especially for a reality show winner, albeit probably only because it’s so generic within its, er, genre.
V: Beth sounds surprisingly weak in places, and the routine comes across as ‘taught’ rather than ‘taut’, but the music gets me every time. The backing vocalist with the magenta hair has always annoyed me for some reason.
13 Israel
B: “Ken, ani kaze romantikan!” Alas, that doesn’t translate into a decent set of lyrics.
A: If you take this for what it is, it’s not bad: a bit been there, done that (about 50 years ago) but not entirely unaccomplished as a piece of music.
V: Upbeat and vocally very good, but a tad too Benny Hill for my liking.
14 The Netherlands
B: There are some great lines here, the best one perhaps being “You’ll never rise above / Being with the one you love”.
A: In terms of composition this is another sterling Dutch entry, with a beginning, a middle, an end and room to spare all inside of three minutes. Anyone who looks down on pop should listen to this and be forced to concede the quality it both demands and produces.
V: Heathens find this performance questionable; I love it. Even my brother, something of a Eurovision sceptic, was won over when we were watching it. Vocally perfect, beautifully lit and shot... It’s just so good. Poor Esther :(
15 United Kingdom
B: “I need a love that is big enough” – yes, I think we know what they’re looking for, and that they’re probably looking for it in the same place. Actually, in their way, these lyrics sit together very well.
A: Nothing wrong with this. It’s inventive and clever in ways you don’t expect it to be.
V: Very slick routine. Gemma is in fact perfectly in tune, just in the wrong key. At least it’s not simply a case of her being unable to sing, as per, say, half of Tatu. Chris is irritating, but I love the way he’s the first person in 15 songs to invoke the audience. God knows they needed to. I also love the way you have the Macy Grey backing vocalist offset by two who look like newsreaders.
16 Ukraine
B: “You are so wrong” indeed.
A: Better than the actual Israeli entry. Great piano.
V: This makes for a very peculiar debut, and a surprisingly weak one given the powerhouse the country would become in short order. It’s all a bit too frenetic (and static!) and threateningly delivered for its own good. And I still can’t get over the eye-shadow.
17 Greece
B: It’s like an Enid Blyton book: innuendo ahoy if you know what you’re looking for.
A: Greece and the electric guitar – they’re like Siamese twins who share a vital organ, never to be separated. The arrangement otherwise borders on the delightful, and is quite powerful in places, offsetting the gentler moments. Still a bit meh though, all told.
V: Well thought-out direction here. Mando gives another superior vocal performance, but ¡aye bazumbas! what a porny delivery. As we were watching it I added “...daddy!” to her final “yeah...” and it just seemed so appropriate.
18 Norway
B: It’s easy to overlook the fact that these lyrics are utter nonsense.
A: I do like a simple piano-driven ballad that’s done this well. I say piano-driven, but the percussion, acoustics and strings are integral to its success. From the bridge onwards it’s perfect.
V: Jostein is cute in an untouchable kind of way, like he belonged in the kindergarten he taught at, so I’m not surprised he did well for himself. Mind you, he’s helped by yet more brilliant lighting and staging.
19 France
B: Wonderful lyrics. “Je sais qu’il faudrait ne plus en parler / Au moins essayer un peu d’oublier.” I’m sure we’ve all been there before.
A: There’s so much to like about this, as per the majority of French ballads. The arrangement is superb.
V: Up until the final bridge, Louisa gives a disconcertingly immobile, almost cold performance, as if her feet are nailed to the floor, so I wasn’t shocked to see it fare so modestly. The hair malfunction is unfortunate. Stunning, all the same, as songs go.
20 Poland
B: Who am I to argue with “Każdy z nas powinien dotrzeć tam”?
A: The chorus here lets the side down for me: it’s tacky and overly sentimental.
V: Aah, back in the day when three minutes of them was just enough. This is a solid anthem worthy of the decent result it earned. The costumes are to die for.
21 Latvia
B: Yet another set of dopey lyrics.
A: I’ve never had much time for this. It’s decent enough, but nothing special, particularly when there were much better songs in the national final. The chorus is quite catchy though.
V: Mārtiņš Freimanis died far too young, but that doesn’t change the fact he had a fucking annoying voice. Despite everything, I was surprised this did as catastrophically badly as it did for the hosts.
22 Belgium
B: I still haven’t made up my mind as to whether the imaginary language thing was a stroke of genius or just silly.
A: Not that it matters in the end, as it’s the music you focus on, and it’s really rather wonderful. It feels just right in its allotted timeframe.
V: I was so pleased that something like this was still able to do well at Eurovision.
23 Estonia
B: “Everybody’s wearing their hair the way you did fifteen years ago / And it makes you wanna cry” is perhaps my favourite couplet in any Eurovision song.
A: The class and cohesion this displays is astounding.
V: How well this might have done had it all been juries! Not that it’s everyone’s cup of tea, of course. To me, it remains one of the best and most original entries the contest has ever given us. I suppose you just love it or you don’t.
24 Romania
B: They need to work on their conditional clauses.
A: Romania finally get a bit trash-savvy. What a turnaround from 2002! Nicola’s voice borders on the unpleasant for me, but still manages to work in this song, which was always a blatant (if effective) rip-off of that Selecta! thing, whatever it was called.
V: Priceless! I’ve always wondered how Julia Roberts’ character made ends meet before she met Richard Gere in Pretty Woman.
25 Sweden
B: “It’s plain to see that you can rescue me” sounds better than it looks, and given it’s the highlight of these lyrics, it doesn’t say much for the rest of the song.
A: I was predisposed to scorn this just because Alcazar hadn’t won, but needless to say it’s Swedishly reliable. The arrangement plays to its own strengths and delivers the goods as it does so.
V: No one puts a foot wrong here. It’s helped by being song #25, but it has more going for it than that: perfect backing vocals, as usual, and simple but effective choreography. But it’s all just a little bit too polished.
26 Slovenia
B: The twist in the chorus is quite a neat touch in an otherwise by-numbers set of lyrics.
A: Rubbish, obviously.
V: Slovenian Barbie indeed: cheap and oh so plastic. I was spitting chips that neither Poglej me v oči nor Prvič in zadnjič had won, so looked forward to its inevitable demise. Can you believe they had this at third in the betting at 8:1 to win after the final dress rehearsal? It’s vocally good but just far too pink, and that’s despite the odd hairy men standing to one side.
And so to the points...
1 point goes to Russia
2 points go to Spain
3 points go to Portugal
4 points go to Norway
5 points go to Iceland
6 points go to Turkey
7 points go to Belgium
8 points go to France
10 points go to the Netherlands
and finally…
12 points go to...
Estonia!
Matching wooden spoons are awarded to Malta and Cyprus.
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