Quite a lot to like.
01 Finland
B: Good lyrics which go well with the style of music they’re set to.
A: The tango capital of the northern hemisphere shows what it’s made of... with mixed results. The music (in terms of how it’s put together in places) comes across as decidedly mediocre. So much more feels like it could have been made of it without sounding anywhere near as bitty.
V: White trousers don’t even look good on the male dancer, so I don’t know what Jari was thinking. Maybe that’s just the sound, but most of the time he sounds like he’s singing in a different key. And his choreography’s rubbish.
02 Belarus
B: Slightly daft but nevertheless meaningful lyrics. I love the idea of ‘rotating to someone’.
A: I’d forgotten they tampered with this, making it sound appropriately (but less pleasingly) empty. Its lovely combination of sounds would have benefited from richer layering.
V: Lovely lighting. Lovely pottery flute, too. Aleksandra is quaking in her knee-length boots, and her performance is far too static to make an impact.
03 Switzerland
B: “Everything is gonna be alright.” Um...
A: Does this have any musical merit whatsoever? Apart from an exemplary bassline, it’s wall-to-wall bargain-basement horror.
V: Three minutes lasted a lot longer a few years ago, didn’t they. The desperation of it all! It’s like children’s TV, but even more spectacularly awful. The way Piero smacks himself in the face with the microphone sums it up perfectly.
04 Latvia
B: My favourite lines are “Ik reizi, kad tālumā brīnumu jūt / Es vēlos vēl tuvāk tev būt”.
A: The biggest makeover disaster of the entire contest. The original acoustic arrangement suited the lyrics perfectly, but in its place they chose to give us this wall of noise. Stripped of its charm musically, it just sounds lazy and boring.
V: I could have gone to the pub if I’d wanted to listen to something like this. The synchronous drum thing is quite good, but... na na... na na na na na... na na na na... no.
05 Israel
B: The way you can run two lines together to make “To have a dream that maybe one day we can find the way to have a dream” is the lyrical version of an Escher print.
A: I both like and dislike the way the brass is given a voice of its own here, mostly because the arrangement is otherwise dreamy but predictable. The song doesn’t really go anywhere either. The la-la chorus is Israel by numbers and hugely irritating. And David D’Or may have a golden voice, but I’m more of a silver man.
V: What a bizarre performance this is. The backing vocals are dreadful, and David looks like he’s just wandering around, unsure of what to do with himself. As it turns out, dropping his balls at the last minute is a very ill-judged move: it’s always struck me as him realising the song has bombed and just saying “fuck it”. It might have come within douze points of qualification, but didn’t deserve to on this showing.
06 Andorra
B: “Vull que em diguis ‘jo t’estimo’, tot i no ser veritat” and the chorus as a whole make these probably the best lyrics of 2004 and of Eurovision generally in a long time.
A: I preferred this before they played with it, but there’s no denying the strength of the composition and arrangement. The weak link is of course Ms Roure herself, whose voice doesn’t suit proceedings entirely. Nevertheless, it’s a terrific debut.
V: In studio at least. Marta looks like she’s been pulled through a hedge backwards, and sounds off from the first line. The choreography’s way too busy for a song that delivers 180 words a minute, giving her no room to breathe at all, and she’s already struggling on the low notes. Come the bridge, the vocals are on another planet altogether.
07 Portugal
B: As it turns out, nothing in the song lives up to the promise of excitement in the lines “Não sei o que me deu / Mas de repente lá estava eu”. Maybe they’re more rueful than raring to go.
A: Is this version better than the epilepsy-inducing original? Who can say. It doesn’t inspire you to think anything much about it at all. It’s repetitive AF, and a criminal waste of Sofia Victoria’s voice.
V: Nice, simple, controlled choreography after Andorra’s display of Tourette’s syndrome. Pink’s not many people’s colour, but Sofia pulls it off in style. They all look fabulous, in fact. The are far too few close-ups on the lads. [18,000 years later] It’s still going. Even the 60-second version from the abridged Australian showing of the semi was pushing it.
08 Malta
B: Taken out of context, I can’t help but titter at “how do I reach inside you?”.
A: Terrible edit within the opening 10 seconds. If you rip shreds off Monaco for being monotonously pre-programmed – for this is what I am about to do – you can’t but take aim at this. At least Mr Siegel was experienced enough in remixing it to make it borderline catchy. Julie & Ludwig’s melodramatic delivery is a real love-it-or-hate-it thing; I tend towards the latter, but I guess it works as part of the overall package. Still, it’s Malta at its most sickeningly twee.
V: Ludwig’s a dork, but Julie’s a bit of a diva. I’m glad they got the camerawork [almost] right for the final, because it’s very effective. The stage looks huge, too. Ludwig almost laughs out loud, twice, faced with Julie’s operatic nonsense, as would I in his position. Great energy in the final chorus, which the crowd responds to: it sounds like the entire population of Malta’s in the arena.
09 Monaco
B: It’s a pity great lines like “On a construit des prisons de verre / Sur des forêts de cendres” are nullified by others like “Qui se souvient des océans bleus / Des baleines et leurs chants?”.
A: The whale song is the icing on the cake in this Kids-4-Conservation anthem. It has a few random good points, but when you pull it apart it’s just a beat and a few sound effects with Maryon on her schoolgirl soapbox remonstrating in the background. Get a fucking clue, Monaco.
V: The first real gimmick of the contest and it comes from this lot! Not sure what the spangly cape is meant to represent, but I’m loving it. Maryon looks and sounds a hundred times better than expected, but this is too much like a school concert for the mums and the mayor to be given much consideration.
10 Greece
B: These lyrics are expressly designed to make everyone think Sakis wants to shag them.
A: God, what trash. It sounds almost as cheap as Celebrate, and has almost as little credibility musically, but is much catchier. I once again find myself drawn to the bassline, which is great.
V: Oh, I forgot that was the pre-makeover version. The wonders a decent remix can work! The sound being so much better in the final than in the semi means you can pick out a lot more (= any) detail in the music. But this is Eurotrash porn for the one-hand-clapping masses. If it had won, it would have made no more dignified a winner than Marie N; there just would have been a much larger slice of the audience wanting to have sex with the singer. And to give him his dues, he’s a great performer. Who can just about hold a tune.
11 Ukraine
B: She’s taking the piss if she thinks we’ll believe lines like “Napevno, daremno / Bula ya nadto chemna” when she’s clad in leather and wielding a whip strong enough to crack a stage open.
A: You can’t deny the efficiency with which this song gets its point across. The arrangement makes it sound like Ruslana had the stage show worked out in advance.
V: What a draw for them! How better to top Sakis, as it were, than with something like this. It might not be a winning song, but it’s unquestionably the winning performance, with lighting and cameras working hand in hand with the choreography to produce something you really can’t take your eyes off. The hugely energetic song helps, of course. Fantastic dancers. See, everybody (except Silvia Night): act like a winner and you will very probably win. I’d still rather they hadn’t though.
12 Lithuania
B: I love the eagerness to slip back into bad habits in “Yes, I’ve made mistakes before / Give [me] your hand, let’s go for more”.
A: As with so many Lithuanian entries, there’s absolutely no pretence to this. The high bit before the bridge is great. Cute arrangement which shows plenty of imagination, if not a lot of direction.
V: This lacks any kind of oomph after Ukraine, and the daft clown show in the background just doesn’t work. Simona looks like she tore the dress off Julie’s back. Even without the heels, she’d be a good foot taller than spunkrat Linas. Awful sound mix.
13 Albania
B: Generally excellent English lyrics. I couldn’t agree more with “How strange the feeling in your soul / When love invades your very being”.
A: The miracle they worked with this! The approach to the arrangement and instrumentation is a bit dated, but it still works. Besides, the song is carried by Anjeza’s voice and performance, and they’re winners.
V: Crowd support made a huge difference in 2004: it was so vocal. Fab stage and lighting – the best so far if you ask me. Anjeza looks damn cute and has a fine set of lungs on her. Great ending, too. How come it took them until 2009 to get the same idea again? [A few nights later...] I like the restyled hair, but the new dress is less flattering. The bespectacled backing vocalist looks extra cute in his school uniform.
14 Cyprus
B: There’s something pathetic about the story here that I like rather too much.
A: I’m still not convinced by Mike Conaris’ victory in the amongst-friends composer-of-the-year awards, but there is something simple and heartfelt here that works well with the lyrics, and Lisa’s delivery of them. It gets a bit sentimental at times with the tinkling bells and whirlpool of strings, but without stepping too far over the mark.
V: She’s so cute! This is the perfect example of how a performance can completely turn a song around: I’d written it off beforehand, but was won over with ease on the night. It doesn’t even matter that she’s a bit off in places – in fact, it just serves to make it seem even more genuine. I like the way she completely ignores the camera, even when it’s right in her face.
15 FYR Macedonia
B: “I search for a place where I’ll be free / From all that is said and all that’s been done / It’ll be hard to find it inside of me” – Macedonia really is the new Italy at Eurovision. “It’s true – you know it, don’t you?”
A: Such symmetry between the music and lyrics! Shifting and sensuous and passionate and confessional and challenging... It’s all this and so much more.
V: Now this, as the Pet Shop Boys call it, is PopArt. Apart from the poor lad’s breakdown (which is itself artistically merited), I can’t praise it enough. I love the way he stares at his hand. The colour scheme is brilliant, too. Toše looks like he should have a steed between his legs at the end, when it sounds like half of Macedonia was in the hall, too.
16 Slovenia
B: Bonus points for the irony inherent in “What the rest of the world thinks doesn’t matter / Because we know it better.”
A: In its defence, I still sing along to this every time it comes on, and the harmonies are great. Unassuming, undemanding easy listening. Rubbish of course, but in a kind of good way. Like a few songs this year, it could have done with the BPM being cranked up.
V: The colours say it all. It’s nice that they got to get married on the Bosphorus: their trip wasn’t entirely wasted.
17 Estonia
B: You can give me lines like “Oroviir mõtsatii ülõ jõõ ülõ mää” any day.
A: It’s easy to overlook just how authentic a piece of Seto music this is, except of course they’d never have the drums. But does the fact that tubby old ladies might be found singing its ilk on the Russian border make it any good? Actually, I think it does. There’s a lot of power to it vocally, and Priit Pajusaar and Glen Pilvre’s arrangement is as lovely as ever. Outside of Estonia though it can’t help but tend towards novelty value rather than value per se.
V: It’s a sister act-off! Anu tries far too hard. Much as I like this, it just comes across as a bit daft. Peeter Jõgioja and his drums are the best thing about it. The girls’ vocals are good in their way.
18 Croatia
B: Bland, but sweet, and a decent approximation of the original Croatian lyrics.
A: This is a real headphones song. You could drown yourself in that first minute; it’s like aural anaesthesia, in a good way. The chorus renders it all slightly more pedestrian, but Ivan’s impassioned vocals always keep you listening. I still love the ending.
V: A beautifully measured performance, with some amazing background lighting on the screens. I’m glad he changed his suit between the semi and the final.
19 Denmark
B: These lyrics ring very true.
A: I suppose if there’s one thing Eurovision teaches you it’s that Latino music done by anyone north of the Pyrenees gets nowhere. Which is not a criticism of this song as such; it’s well-produced and full of good ideas, but unavoidably soulless.
V: And very red. This performance is camp, competent and not very engaging, and the Heelys add nothing, but Thomas boasts an impressive set of shoulders.
20 Serbia and Montenegro
B: I love the lines “Nađi nekog nalik meni / Da te barem ne volim”.
A: Everything about this is lush, including Željko and his voice. It has to be the richest composition of 2004, and of the entire contest in many years.
V: Beautifully staged. I love the way the performance is allowed to unfold visually at its own pace. I should only ever listen to this though, because every time I watch it I’m distracted by the fact that Željko’s wearing way too much make-up (and that he’s foolishly allowed himself to be persuaded to wax his chest).
21 Bosnia and Herzegovina
B: Nice to see the Bosnians can maintain their lyrical economy even in English.
A: I’d forgotten how farty the synths sound in the studio version, but however unimaginative it may be, it works pretty well.
V: That’s one helluva mutant disco ball! I don’t find this particularly attractive as a performance, but the insistent rhythm and effective choreography do the trick. The direction is excellent, too. I hadn’t noticed before that they all went pink in the final, as if wasn’t already as camp as a row of tents.
22 The Netherlands
B: Naff beyond words.
A: Still, two boys and a guitar did the business, at least until the final. It really shows how less than a handful of carefully chosen instruments, voice among them, can be a million times more effective than chucking everything at the wall and hoping some of it sticks.
V: Closing out the semi, this works perfectly right after Bosnia. The lads look like they’re having fun, and that’s half the battle won. We see a lot of their teeth, which are the most fluorescent things on the stage. There are some nice directorial touches again, which the later Greek production tried (and failed) to emulate. The grey stonewash denims are a no-no.
23 Spain
B: Such evocative lyrics, as with so many Mediterranean romance-language entries: there’s that seemingly token mention of wheat again, and a whole cocktail of other references in “Su recuerdo sabe a sal y a hierbabuena”. I appreciate the fnaar-fnaar value of ‘her full moons’ and indeed of “Hoy me quedé vacío para llenarme de ti”.
A: This stands out a mile on the compilation album, coming so soon after Denmark’s Play-Doh Latino number. It has no trouble sounding authentic or maintaining any richness in its composition, but bits of it – especially towards the end – sound like afterthoughts. Which indeed they are.
V: I hate the way he pretends to play the guitar for about two bars before it’s carried off by the game-show hostess like some consolation prize. This performance is not Ramon’s finest hour as a vocalist, beyond the verses, and he leaves taking his clothes off (or at least looking like he’s about to) far too late. The choreography suits the song quite well though, and they certainly manage to fill up the stage.
24 Austria
B: “Du bist ein Wahnsinns-Optimist”.
A: It takes less than 10 seconds for this to make the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. It lacks any kind of sincerity. The vocals are horrible, even in the studio version. I simply cannot understand how the televoters of Austria thought they stood a chance with it.
V: Atrocious. At least you get to laugh at Switzerland. Two of the three lads are passably cute in my books, but even so...?
25 Norway
B: Individual aspects of these lyrics should irritate, but as a whole they just work.
A: I remember saying at the time that I saw only this and Sweden as potential winners. (We’ve all got to err occasionally, I suppose.) In hindsight, I can completely see why no one went for it, but it still works for me. Its problem is that the tune is there, in the chorus and bridge at least, but it’s not given the treatment it deserves. It sounds a lot slower than I recall, too: I want to wind it up so that it plays faster.
V: Good vocals from both Knut and the backing. The pictures help here, but it still drags.
26 France
B: “[Il y a] Tellement de ratures qu’il faudra effacer” is clever.
A: How rarely piano and strings fail. This sounds quite special and yet entirely radio-friendly at the same time. Does the latter take away from the former? Perhaps a little, as it seems to run out of steam in its efforts to sound the same throughout. The Spanish bit comes as a pleasant surprise, now that I hear it again.
V: WTF staging and imagery from France, or anyone for that matter. You can feel the audience urging the stilt-walking woman to fall flat on her arse. Great ‘ad libs’ by the excellent backing vocalists. Jonathon looks like he just woke up.
27 Germany
B: I love the lines “Don’t wanna talk about the way I am” (which has the same ring of truth to it as Jugarem a estimar-nos) and “The way you smiled has turned my life around”.
A: For every truly crappy entry or three, Germany still tends to come up with something pretty damn good every now and then. Stefan Raab knew what he was doing here; it sounds like it came ready-made for Max. The arrangement is tremendous, and the last minute or so is a little studio triumph.
V: Lovely stuff. The Turkish chorus is a great touch. Monobrow Max even outdoes the Dutch boys in the stonewashed look, and his breakdown is far more enjoyable to watch than Toše’s.
28 Belgium
B: I hope she maintained the “I can hear what people say / It doesn’t matter anyway” line after the event.
A: This still has a fair kick to it. I suppose its problem, in retrospect, was that it always promised more than it ever delivered. Not through any fault of its own necessarily: what it does it does without any pretence. Great middle eight.
V: You can tell it’s a fan favourite by all the screaming coming from the front rows. There’s some glorious androgyny on display here. Xandee has an odd, almost-but-not-quite quality to her voice that isn’t exactly problematic but becomes more obvious as the song goes on. And the song does go on a bit.
29 Russia
B: Some good lines here (like “You and I can talk, and I sound colder”) are offset against some utter shite.
A: The only thing I think of when I hear this is the crap preview video with those fucking flame-throwers. There are some decent ideas at work in the music, but none of them are cooperating: the this-bit-then-that-bit arrangement goes precisely nowhere. In the end, “Believe me, I just don’t care” sums up exactly how I feel.
V: Well, this exists in its own little world, doesn’t it. Bizarre. Julia comes very close to sounding very awful.
30 Iceland
B: I love the line “I lay down and cry, and the rivers are dry”.
A: Jonsi’s vocals are almost drowned out in places by the swirling orchestration. There’s nothing wrong with his voice, but I’d quite like to hear this as an instrumental; it would be fantastic under the National Symphony of Iceland. A bit faceless, all the same.
V: Jonsi had a supporting role in Eleven Men Out, an Icelandic film about a gay soccer team, and looked great in grass-stained, mud-spattered shorts. Here he’s a bit too contrived, as is his performance.
31 Ireland
B: What does “that’s when I feel wholesome” mean? Does he feel like a box of Special K or something?
A: Eww, it’s the sucky studio version. What was it with Ireland doing new versions they never used? This one’s ’80s rock anthem stylings are appalling. It served Ireland right that Mickey Harte’s relative success led them to choose two of their worst ever entries under the same format. Not that the level of Irish entries since has been consistently higher.
V: This version’s just as naff. I wouldn’t half let Chris Doran kick-box me round the ring in his black belt though. He looks like he’d come ready-oiled to boot. Lovely crow’s feet.
32 Poland
B: So much muchacha!
A: God, did it really sound like this? It feels like I’m listening to a song I’ve never heard. It’s wonderfully idle, and you’d never pick it as coming from Poland. Puerto Rico, perhaps, but not Poland. Tatiana’s vocals are amazing. This comes into its own past the halfway mark, but by then it’s too late. And too long.
V: Everyone’s outfits are awful, and the comedy brass bandette doesn’t work. The bridge is great stuff though, and I admire them for doing their own thing with such conviction.
33 United Kingdom
B: If Mr Fox really does ‘feel so complete’ he should get together with Chris Doran to form the British Isles’ most nutritious breakfast. I’d give ’em a nosh.
A: This works for the same reasons many other songs would crash and burn: everything you might reasonably expect to happen does so. Of course, this also makes it feel not at all surprising or special.
V: Wrong place, wrong time, James: too many middle-of-the-road male soloists for one contest. He does quite a decent job, but then he did only have to stand there. Every time I try to recall what he looks like (which isn’t often, to be fair), my brain shows me Francine Jordi.
34 Turkey
B: “All I know is you don’t want to be part of the crowd...”
A: I had the opening here as the alarm ring tone on my phone for a long time: I woke every morning to Athena-brand east-meets-west ska. It’s a triumph, and one of the most inspired choices – arguably one of very few – that Turkey has ever made in Eurovision. Brilliant ending.
V: Fantastic home entry. So much character.
35 Romania
B: I love the shameless desperation (“I’ll be your fool as long as you are mine”) and honesty (“It’s good to admit / That my heart starts to race when you walk through that door”) of it all.
A: The way the opening is structured makes you think we’re in for another Macedonia, but then the first chorus kicks in and you realise it’s much more straightforward. I like the way the arrangement continues to build, and the guitar’s great, and the bridge is good, but overall it lacks the pizzazz they nevertheless try and throw at it. It feels like the musical equivalent of treading water for the better part of three minutes.
V: The two things I will always remember about this performance are that one of the dancers (presumably unintentionally) fondles Sanda’s breasts during the bridge, and that Sanda herself fumbles the words going into the first chorus.
36 Sweden
B: “The pain I feel inside / I’m clinging to my pillow” – she clearly isn’t aware that she’s supposed to be biting it.
A: Proper pop trash is in the blood of all Swedes, it seems. This might not pretend to be anything else, but it’s no slouch. There’s plenty to like: the great hook in the chorus, for starters, and the bridge, which is exemplary. A truly fabbalous three minutes of schlager.
V: This performance has always struck me as a bit misguided and lazy, at least vocally, even though it’s clear that Lena Ph is an accomplished stage artist. It’s quite tongue-in-cheek in places though, which is a boon.
And so to the points…
1 point goes to Croatia
2 points go to Albania
3 points go to France
4 points go to Belarus
5 points go to Sweden
6 points go to Andorra
7 points go to Germany
8 points go to FYR Macedonia
10 points go to Turkey
and finally...
12 points go to...
Serbia and Montenegro!
Two wooden spoons are awarded for 2004 – not because the field is bigger, but because they are equally shit. Well done to Austria and Switzerland! Proud neighbours.
B: Good lyrics which go well with the style of music they’re set to.
A: The tango capital of the northern hemisphere shows what it’s made of... with mixed results. The music (in terms of how it’s put together in places) comes across as decidedly mediocre. So much more feels like it could have been made of it without sounding anywhere near as bitty.
V: White trousers don’t even look good on the male dancer, so I don’t know what Jari was thinking. Maybe that’s just the sound, but most of the time he sounds like he’s singing in a different key. And his choreography’s rubbish.
02 Belarus
B: Slightly daft but nevertheless meaningful lyrics. I love the idea of ‘rotating to someone’.
A: I’d forgotten they tampered with this, making it sound appropriately (but less pleasingly) empty. Its lovely combination of sounds would have benefited from richer layering.
V: Lovely lighting. Lovely pottery flute, too. Aleksandra is quaking in her knee-length boots, and her performance is far too static to make an impact.
03 Switzerland
B: “Everything is gonna be alright.” Um...
A: Does this have any musical merit whatsoever? Apart from an exemplary bassline, it’s wall-to-wall bargain-basement horror.
V: Three minutes lasted a lot longer a few years ago, didn’t they. The desperation of it all! It’s like children’s TV, but even more spectacularly awful. The way Piero smacks himself in the face with the microphone sums it up perfectly.
04 Latvia
B: My favourite lines are “Ik reizi, kad tālumā brīnumu jūt / Es vēlos vēl tuvāk tev būt”.
A: The biggest makeover disaster of the entire contest. The original acoustic arrangement suited the lyrics perfectly, but in its place they chose to give us this wall of noise. Stripped of its charm musically, it just sounds lazy and boring.
V: I could have gone to the pub if I’d wanted to listen to something like this. The synchronous drum thing is quite good, but... na na... na na na na na... na na na na... no.
05 Israel
B: The way you can run two lines together to make “To have a dream that maybe one day we can find the way to have a dream” is the lyrical version of an Escher print.
A: I both like and dislike the way the brass is given a voice of its own here, mostly because the arrangement is otherwise dreamy but predictable. The song doesn’t really go anywhere either. The la-la chorus is Israel by numbers and hugely irritating. And David D’Or may have a golden voice, but I’m more of a silver man.
V: What a bizarre performance this is. The backing vocals are dreadful, and David looks like he’s just wandering around, unsure of what to do with himself. As it turns out, dropping his balls at the last minute is a very ill-judged move: it’s always struck me as him realising the song has bombed and just saying “fuck it”. It might have come within douze points of qualification, but didn’t deserve to on this showing.
06 Andorra
B: “Vull que em diguis ‘jo t’estimo’, tot i no ser veritat” and the chorus as a whole make these probably the best lyrics of 2004 and of Eurovision generally in a long time.
A: I preferred this before they played with it, but there’s no denying the strength of the composition and arrangement. The weak link is of course Ms Roure herself, whose voice doesn’t suit proceedings entirely. Nevertheless, it’s a terrific debut.
V: In studio at least. Marta looks like she’s been pulled through a hedge backwards, and sounds off from the first line. The choreography’s way too busy for a song that delivers 180 words a minute, giving her no room to breathe at all, and she’s already struggling on the low notes. Come the bridge, the vocals are on another planet altogether.
07 Portugal
B: As it turns out, nothing in the song lives up to the promise of excitement in the lines “Não sei o que me deu / Mas de repente lá estava eu”. Maybe they’re more rueful than raring to go.
A: Is this version better than the epilepsy-inducing original? Who can say. It doesn’t inspire you to think anything much about it at all. It’s repetitive AF, and a criminal waste of Sofia Victoria’s voice.
V: Nice, simple, controlled choreography after Andorra’s display of Tourette’s syndrome. Pink’s not many people’s colour, but Sofia pulls it off in style. They all look fabulous, in fact. The are far too few close-ups on the lads. [18,000 years later] It’s still going. Even the 60-second version from the abridged Australian showing of the semi was pushing it.
08 Malta
B: Taken out of context, I can’t help but titter at “how do I reach inside you?”.
A: Terrible edit within the opening 10 seconds. If you rip shreds off Monaco for being monotonously pre-programmed – for this is what I am about to do – you can’t but take aim at this. At least Mr Siegel was experienced enough in remixing it to make it borderline catchy. Julie & Ludwig’s melodramatic delivery is a real love-it-or-hate-it thing; I tend towards the latter, but I guess it works as part of the overall package. Still, it’s Malta at its most sickeningly twee.
V: Ludwig’s a dork, but Julie’s a bit of a diva. I’m glad they got the camerawork [almost] right for the final, because it’s very effective. The stage looks huge, too. Ludwig almost laughs out loud, twice, faced with Julie’s operatic nonsense, as would I in his position. Great energy in the final chorus, which the crowd responds to: it sounds like the entire population of Malta’s in the arena.
09 Monaco
B: It’s a pity great lines like “On a construit des prisons de verre / Sur des forêts de cendres” are nullified by others like “Qui se souvient des océans bleus / Des baleines et leurs chants?”.
A: The whale song is the icing on the cake in this Kids-4-Conservation anthem. It has a few random good points, but when you pull it apart it’s just a beat and a few sound effects with Maryon on her schoolgirl soapbox remonstrating in the background. Get a fucking clue, Monaco.
V: The first real gimmick of the contest and it comes from this lot! Not sure what the spangly cape is meant to represent, but I’m loving it. Maryon looks and sounds a hundred times better than expected, but this is too much like a school concert for the mums and the mayor to be given much consideration.
10 Greece
B: These lyrics are expressly designed to make everyone think Sakis wants to shag them.
A: God, what trash. It sounds almost as cheap as Celebrate, and has almost as little credibility musically, but is much catchier. I once again find myself drawn to the bassline, which is great.
V: Oh, I forgot that was the pre-makeover version. The wonders a decent remix can work! The sound being so much better in the final than in the semi means you can pick out a lot more (= any) detail in the music. But this is Eurotrash porn for the one-hand-clapping masses. If it had won, it would have made no more dignified a winner than Marie N; there just would have been a much larger slice of the audience wanting to have sex with the singer. And to give him his dues, he’s a great performer. Who can just about hold a tune.
11 Ukraine
B: She’s taking the piss if she thinks we’ll believe lines like “Napevno, daremno / Bula ya nadto chemna” when she’s clad in leather and wielding a whip strong enough to crack a stage open.
A: You can’t deny the efficiency with which this song gets its point across. The arrangement makes it sound like Ruslana had the stage show worked out in advance.
V: What a draw for them! How better to top Sakis, as it were, than with something like this. It might not be a winning song, but it’s unquestionably the winning performance, with lighting and cameras working hand in hand with the choreography to produce something you really can’t take your eyes off. The hugely energetic song helps, of course. Fantastic dancers. See, everybody (except Silvia Night): act like a winner and you will very probably win. I’d still rather they hadn’t though.
12 Lithuania
B: I love the eagerness to slip back into bad habits in “Yes, I’ve made mistakes before / Give [me] your hand, let’s go for more”.
A: As with so many Lithuanian entries, there’s absolutely no pretence to this. The high bit before the bridge is great. Cute arrangement which shows plenty of imagination, if not a lot of direction.
V: This lacks any kind of oomph after Ukraine, and the daft clown show in the background just doesn’t work. Simona looks like she tore the dress off Julie’s back. Even without the heels, she’d be a good foot taller than spunkrat Linas. Awful sound mix.
13 Albania
B: Generally excellent English lyrics. I couldn’t agree more with “How strange the feeling in your soul / When love invades your very being”.
A: The miracle they worked with this! The approach to the arrangement and instrumentation is a bit dated, but it still works. Besides, the song is carried by Anjeza’s voice and performance, and they’re winners.
V: Crowd support made a huge difference in 2004: it was so vocal. Fab stage and lighting – the best so far if you ask me. Anjeza looks damn cute and has a fine set of lungs on her. Great ending, too. How come it took them until 2009 to get the same idea again? [A few nights later...] I like the restyled hair, but the new dress is less flattering. The bespectacled backing vocalist looks extra cute in his school uniform.
14 Cyprus
B: There’s something pathetic about the story here that I like rather too much.
A: I’m still not convinced by Mike Conaris’ victory in the amongst-friends composer-of-the-year awards, but there is something simple and heartfelt here that works well with the lyrics, and Lisa’s delivery of them. It gets a bit sentimental at times with the tinkling bells and whirlpool of strings, but without stepping too far over the mark.
V: She’s so cute! This is the perfect example of how a performance can completely turn a song around: I’d written it off beforehand, but was won over with ease on the night. It doesn’t even matter that she’s a bit off in places – in fact, it just serves to make it seem even more genuine. I like the way she completely ignores the camera, even when it’s right in her face.
15 FYR Macedonia
B: “I search for a place where I’ll be free / From all that is said and all that’s been done / It’ll be hard to find it inside of me” – Macedonia really is the new Italy at Eurovision. “It’s true – you know it, don’t you?”
A: Such symmetry between the music and lyrics! Shifting and sensuous and passionate and confessional and challenging... It’s all this and so much more.
V: Now this, as the Pet Shop Boys call it, is PopArt. Apart from the poor lad’s breakdown (which is itself artistically merited), I can’t praise it enough. I love the way he stares at his hand. The colour scheme is brilliant, too. Toše looks like he should have a steed between his legs at the end, when it sounds like half of Macedonia was in the hall, too.
16 Slovenia
B: Bonus points for the irony inherent in “What the rest of the world thinks doesn’t matter / Because we know it better.”
A: In its defence, I still sing along to this every time it comes on, and the harmonies are great. Unassuming, undemanding easy listening. Rubbish of course, but in a kind of good way. Like a few songs this year, it could have done with the BPM being cranked up.
V: The colours say it all. It’s nice that they got to get married on the Bosphorus: their trip wasn’t entirely wasted.
17 Estonia
B: You can give me lines like “Oroviir mõtsatii ülõ jõõ ülõ mää” any day.
A: It’s easy to overlook just how authentic a piece of Seto music this is, except of course they’d never have the drums. But does the fact that tubby old ladies might be found singing its ilk on the Russian border make it any good? Actually, I think it does. There’s a lot of power to it vocally, and Priit Pajusaar and Glen Pilvre’s arrangement is as lovely as ever. Outside of Estonia though it can’t help but tend towards novelty value rather than value per se.
V: It’s a sister act-off! Anu tries far too hard. Much as I like this, it just comes across as a bit daft. Peeter Jõgioja and his drums are the best thing about it. The girls’ vocals are good in their way.
18 Croatia
B: Bland, but sweet, and a decent approximation of the original Croatian lyrics.
A: This is a real headphones song. You could drown yourself in that first minute; it’s like aural anaesthesia, in a good way. The chorus renders it all slightly more pedestrian, but Ivan’s impassioned vocals always keep you listening. I still love the ending.
V: A beautifully measured performance, with some amazing background lighting on the screens. I’m glad he changed his suit between the semi and the final.
19 Denmark
B: These lyrics ring very true.
A: I suppose if there’s one thing Eurovision teaches you it’s that Latino music done by anyone north of the Pyrenees gets nowhere. Which is not a criticism of this song as such; it’s well-produced and full of good ideas, but unavoidably soulless.
V: And very red. This performance is camp, competent and not very engaging, and the Heelys add nothing, but Thomas boasts an impressive set of shoulders.
20 Serbia and Montenegro
B: I love the lines “Nađi nekog nalik meni / Da te barem ne volim”.
A: Everything about this is lush, including Željko and his voice. It has to be the richest composition of 2004, and of the entire contest in many years.
V: Beautifully staged. I love the way the performance is allowed to unfold visually at its own pace. I should only ever listen to this though, because every time I watch it I’m distracted by the fact that Željko’s wearing way too much make-up (and that he’s foolishly allowed himself to be persuaded to wax his chest).
21 Bosnia and Herzegovina
B: Nice to see the Bosnians can maintain their lyrical economy even in English.
A: I’d forgotten how farty the synths sound in the studio version, but however unimaginative it may be, it works pretty well.
V: That’s one helluva mutant disco ball! I don’t find this particularly attractive as a performance, but the insistent rhythm and effective choreography do the trick. The direction is excellent, too. I hadn’t noticed before that they all went pink in the final, as if wasn’t already as camp as a row of tents.
22 The Netherlands
B: Naff beyond words.
A: Still, two boys and a guitar did the business, at least until the final. It really shows how less than a handful of carefully chosen instruments, voice among them, can be a million times more effective than chucking everything at the wall and hoping some of it sticks.
V: Closing out the semi, this works perfectly right after Bosnia. The lads look like they’re having fun, and that’s half the battle won. We see a lot of their teeth, which are the most fluorescent things on the stage. There are some nice directorial touches again, which the later Greek production tried (and failed) to emulate. The grey stonewash denims are a no-no.
23 Spain
B: Such evocative lyrics, as with so many Mediterranean romance-language entries: there’s that seemingly token mention of wheat again, and a whole cocktail of other references in “Su recuerdo sabe a sal y a hierbabuena”. I appreciate the fnaar-fnaar value of ‘her full moons’ and indeed of “Hoy me quedé vacío para llenarme de ti”.
A: This stands out a mile on the compilation album, coming so soon after Denmark’s Play-Doh Latino number. It has no trouble sounding authentic or maintaining any richness in its composition, but bits of it – especially towards the end – sound like afterthoughts. Which indeed they are.
V: I hate the way he pretends to play the guitar for about two bars before it’s carried off by the game-show hostess like some consolation prize. This performance is not Ramon’s finest hour as a vocalist, beyond the verses, and he leaves taking his clothes off (or at least looking like he’s about to) far too late. The choreography suits the song quite well though, and they certainly manage to fill up the stage.
24 Austria
B: “Du bist ein Wahnsinns-Optimist”.
A: It takes less than 10 seconds for this to make the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. It lacks any kind of sincerity. The vocals are horrible, even in the studio version. I simply cannot understand how the televoters of Austria thought they stood a chance with it.
V: Atrocious. At least you get to laugh at Switzerland. Two of the three lads are passably cute in my books, but even so...?
25 Norway
B: Individual aspects of these lyrics should irritate, but as a whole they just work.
A: I remember saying at the time that I saw only this and Sweden as potential winners. (We’ve all got to err occasionally, I suppose.) In hindsight, I can completely see why no one went for it, but it still works for me. Its problem is that the tune is there, in the chorus and bridge at least, but it’s not given the treatment it deserves. It sounds a lot slower than I recall, too: I want to wind it up so that it plays faster.
V: Good vocals from both Knut and the backing. The pictures help here, but it still drags.
26 France
B: “[Il y a] Tellement de ratures qu’il faudra effacer” is clever.
A: How rarely piano and strings fail. This sounds quite special and yet entirely radio-friendly at the same time. Does the latter take away from the former? Perhaps a little, as it seems to run out of steam in its efforts to sound the same throughout. The Spanish bit comes as a pleasant surprise, now that I hear it again.
V: WTF staging and imagery from France, or anyone for that matter. You can feel the audience urging the stilt-walking woman to fall flat on her arse. Great ‘ad libs’ by the excellent backing vocalists. Jonathon looks like he just woke up.
27 Germany
B: I love the lines “Don’t wanna talk about the way I am” (which has the same ring of truth to it as Jugarem a estimar-nos) and “The way you smiled has turned my life around”.
A: For every truly crappy entry or three, Germany still tends to come up with something pretty damn good every now and then. Stefan Raab knew what he was doing here; it sounds like it came ready-made for Max. The arrangement is tremendous, and the last minute or so is a little studio triumph.
V: Lovely stuff. The Turkish chorus is a great touch. Monobrow Max even outdoes the Dutch boys in the stonewashed look, and his breakdown is far more enjoyable to watch than Toše’s.
28 Belgium
B: I hope she maintained the “I can hear what people say / It doesn’t matter anyway” line after the event.
A: This still has a fair kick to it. I suppose its problem, in retrospect, was that it always promised more than it ever delivered. Not through any fault of its own necessarily: what it does it does without any pretence. Great middle eight.
V: You can tell it’s a fan favourite by all the screaming coming from the front rows. There’s some glorious androgyny on display here. Xandee has an odd, almost-but-not-quite quality to her voice that isn’t exactly problematic but becomes more obvious as the song goes on. And the song does go on a bit.
29 Russia
B: Some good lines here (like “You and I can talk, and I sound colder”) are offset against some utter shite.
A: The only thing I think of when I hear this is the crap preview video with those fucking flame-throwers. There are some decent ideas at work in the music, but none of them are cooperating: the this-bit-then-that-bit arrangement goes precisely nowhere. In the end, “Believe me, I just don’t care” sums up exactly how I feel.
V: Well, this exists in its own little world, doesn’t it. Bizarre. Julia comes very close to sounding very awful.
30 Iceland
B: I love the line “I lay down and cry, and the rivers are dry”.
A: Jonsi’s vocals are almost drowned out in places by the swirling orchestration. There’s nothing wrong with his voice, but I’d quite like to hear this as an instrumental; it would be fantastic under the National Symphony of Iceland. A bit faceless, all the same.
V: Jonsi had a supporting role in Eleven Men Out, an Icelandic film about a gay soccer team, and looked great in grass-stained, mud-spattered shorts. Here he’s a bit too contrived, as is his performance.
31 Ireland
B: What does “that’s when I feel wholesome” mean? Does he feel like a box of Special K or something?
A: Eww, it’s the sucky studio version. What was it with Ireland doing new versions they never used? This one’s ’80s rock anthem stylings are appalling. It served Ireland right that Mickey Harte’s relative success led them to choose two of their worst ever entries under the same format. Not that the level of Irish entries since has been consistently higher.
V: This version’s just as naff. I wouldn’t half let Chris Doran kick-box me round the ring in his black belt though. He looks like he’d come ready-oiled to boot. Lovely crow’s feet.
32 Poland
B: So much muchacha!
A: God, did it really sound like this? It feels like I’m listening to a song I’ve never heard. It’s wonderfully idle, and you’d never pick it as coming from Poland. Puerto Rico, perhaps, but not Poland. Tatiana’s vocals are amazing. This comes into its own past the halfway mark, but by then it’s too late. And too long.
V: Everyone’s outfits are awful, and the comedy brass bandette doesn’t work. The bridge is great stuff though, and I admire them for doing their own thing with such conviction.
33 United Kingdom
B: If Mr Fox really does ‘feel so complete’ he should get together with Chris Doran to form the British Isles’ most nutritious breakfast. I’d give ’em a nosh.
A: This works for the same reasons many other songs would crash and burn: everything you might reasonably expect to happen does so. Of course, this also makes it feel not at all surprising or special.
V: Wrong place, wrong time, James: too many middle-of-the-road male soloists for one contest. He does quite a decent job, but then he did only have to stand there. Every time I try to recall what he looks like (which isn’t often, to be fair), my brain shows me Francine Jordi.
34 Turkey
B: “All I know is you don’t want to be part of the crowd...”
A: I had the opening here as the alarm ring tone on my phone for a long time: I woke every morning to Athena-brand east-meets-west ska. It’s a triumph, and one of the most inspired choices – arguably one of very few – that Turkey has ever made in Eurovision. Brilliant ending.
V: Fantastic home entry. So much character.
35 Romania
B: I love the shameless desperation (“I’ll be your fool as long as you are mine”) and honesty (“It’s good to admit / That my heart starts to race when you walk through that door”) of it all.
A: The way the opening is structured makes you think we’re in for another Macedonia, but then the first chorus kicks in and you realise it’s much more straightforward. I like the way the arrangement continues to build, and the guitar’s great, and the bridge is good, but overall it lacks the pizzazz they nevertheless try and throw at it. It feels like the musical equivalent of treading water for the better part of three minutes.
V: The two things I will always remember about this performance are that one of the dancers (presumably unintentionally) fondles Sanda’s breasts during the bridge, and that Sanda herself fumbles the words going into the first chorus.
36 Sweden
B: “The pain I feel inside / I’m clinging to my pillow” – she clearly isn’t aware that she’s supposed to be biting it.
A: Proper pop trash is in the blood of all Swedes, it seems. This might not pretend to be anything else, but it’s no slouch. There’s plenty to like: the great hook in the chorus, for starters, and the bridge, which is exemplary. A truly fabbalous three minutes of schlager.
V: This performance has always struck me as a bit misguided and lazy, at least vocally, even though it’s clear that Lena Ph is an accomplished stage artist. It’s quite tongue-in-cheek in places though, which is a boon.
And so to the points…
1 point goes to Croatia
2 points go to Albania
3 points go to France
4 points go to Belarus
5 points go to Sweden
6 points go to Andorra
7 points go to Germany
8 points go to FYR Macedonia
10 points go to Turkey
and finally...
12 points go to...
Serbia and Montenegro!
Two wooden spoons are awarded for 2004 – not because the field is bigger, but because they are equally shit. Well done to Austria and Switzerland! Proud neighbours.
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