Another day has passed since another year has passed, and here I am again with my thoughts of the songs of the second semi-final of the Eurovision Song Contest 2024. Let’s see if I finish this before next year’s grand finale.
Back again. If you’re reading this, first of all thanks, and second of all I assume you’ve already went through my post for semi-final 1, including the personal conflict part. Then again, I love hyperlinks. So I’m not gonna go over my background and general notes on the contest again, but I do wanna mention a few important elements of the show’s format this year:
- Like last year, the entries qualifying from each semi-final are decided solely by public vote
- Voting starts at the beginning of each show, before any of the entries are performed
- The producers have greater involvement in the running order of the final
- The recently introduced Rest of World ballot would be open 24 hours before every show and close when the show starts, so if you’re not from an ESC country you can probably vote right now (wait till you read my reviews though)
And as noted, the Big Five countries, plus the host nation, now perform in the semis for added exposure, and probably also for padding the broadcasts given the relatively low number of participants. These are reviewed here as well instead of in a separate post. I can introduce some changes too.
Before I dive into the reviews, since I’m submitting this later than I wanted to anyway, let’s look at last night’s results – again, decided only by televote – and how they compare to my personal qualifier list.
Expectation
Ireland
Ukraine
Croatia
Poland
Australia
Luxembourg
Cyprus
Slovenia
Azerbaijan
Serbia
Reality
Cyprus
Serbia
Lithuania
Ireland
Ukraine
Croatia
Slovenia
Finland
Portugal
Luxembourg
7 out of 10 is pretty good, although with 15 entries in total it’s not that impressive, neither does it show the judgment of the audience has significantly improved. I can’t says there any shocking non-qualifiers here. Poland was likely to get lost in the shuffle, Australia didn’t translate very smoothly to the live setting (especially vocally), and Azerbaijan was perhaps a little musically thin for its late placement in the running order. I am surprised that Lithuania triumphed over these three, but in this age of Harry Styles and Timothée Chalamet you can’t discount the power of a malnourished boy who might kiss other boys.
Moving on to semi-final 2. As usual, I finish each review by asserting whether an entry would qualify to the final because of its momentum or mass appeal, should qualify based on its quality, or could qualify thanks to some sort of miracle. The automatic finalists will be ranked as either good (pretty obvious meaning) or rude, as in it’s insulting they’re even here. A little harsh perhaps but I gotta keep the rhyme scheme.
Here we go again:
Malta: Sarah Bonnici – Loop
We start by going back to the previous post and to my growing annoyance at the musical assembly line Sweden has become. I know it’s a very basic buzzkill take given how nearly every pop hit this century was written by a bunch of Swedes, but at a singular event like Eurovision I’d hope for some unique flair. And yet, two of the creators behind this year’s host entry, Linnea and Joy Deb, landed their hand to the Maltese song as well. The tune they came up with, alongside the singer and six other writers, is a standard uptempo number with a syncopated beat and syllabic repetition, the kind that come a dime a dozen in ESC. And like so many Swedish pop tunes, it has some indecipherable lyrical choices. “Cherry on top, you’re the cinnamon“? What kind of cake is that? And what does cinnamon mean? An acquired taste? Something you can choke on if you swall– never mind. It’s a hit by committee with a 20-second breaks in the middle and in the end, it’s not meant to be analyzed (yet here I am). It does the job, nothing more, nothing less. would.
Albania: BESA – TITAN
As they’re wont to do, Albania revised the winning song of their national selection, and as usual it involves producing a new backing track, writing entirely English lyrics, and even changing parts of the melody. And as is often the case, it’s an improvement. The original Albanian version was good enough, but the revamp better communicates the same message of defiance, and not just because it’s in a language more viewers understand. The structure is tighter, the trap elements in the second verse are accentuated, and the beat increase after the final chorus adds that last-lap boost of adrenaline. BESA commands it all confidently without overusing her massive vocals. Not quite the sound people came to expect from Albania, but I wouldn’t mind if this is the new norm. should.
Greece: Marina Satti – ZARI
Just so you know I’m not that much of a curmudgeon after my review of Malta, here’s a song written by nine people that in my opinion is actually good. It helps that it takes some chances, like having the entire song sans two lines in Greek or throwing in a zurna as a regional touch without delving too deep into local musical tropes. I assume this entry is inspired by Rosalía, whom I don’t know much about but can hear in the dembow beat, the quasi-rap delivery, maybe even in the heavy pronunciation of the voiceless dental fricatives (i.e. the consonants that when spoken at you leave you with spit in your eye). But Satti rises above mimicry and provides plenty of personality, especially when she goes to falsetto. She said in an interview she wants this song to break Greek stereotypes, and while I’m not sure the lyrics about rolling dice and going with the wind are such a cultural revelation, this song definitely shows Greece has a lot to offer. should.
Switzerland: Nemo – The Code
Nemo is non-binary. Usually I wouldn’t open with that, but this song very clearly deals with gender identity. I mean, it’s called “The Code”. And the bridge talks about being “between the 0s and 1s“, so they definitely don’t try to be subtle about it. I suppose the different genre detours throughout the track, like the soprano belts and the rap verse, could be interpreted as a negotiation between traditionally gendered spaces; Nemo’s different outfits in the video suggest as much. These parts don’t really work for me on a sonic level, but I understand their role within the narrative. The chorus, where Nemo sings at the top of their chest voice over a drum-n’-bass beat, is much stronger, maybe because it represents a congealed path forward away from the tyranny of either/or (not my term). Or maybe because they compare themselves to a prehistoric mollusc. All of this might go over people’s heads, but my guess is the audience will find Nemo (not sorry) and his entry pleasing as a whole. would.
Czechia: Aiko – Pedestal
I said I don’t know much about Rosalía. Well, I’m not that fluent in Olivia Rodrigo either, though I did listen to her debut album (so half her discography?) and I can hear her echoes here. Of course, that plastic TV movie version of pop-punk has much deeper roots, but this is the clearest and most immediate influence. Aiko sings of the need for self-love after wasting her time and energy on someone who didn’t deserve it, and in case you’re not sure that’s the theme, you’ll get it by the hundredth repetition of “loving me more“. The most unique element here is the argument between Aiko and her partner; always a good sign when the refreshing part of your song is non-musical. But it is catchy and the sound is fairly current. would.
France: Slimane – Mon Amour
When France sent an old-school chanson in 2021 and finished second, it seemed like the solution to the volatile scoring patterns inflicting the country. Then next year it finished second to last and went back to the humble position most Big Five nations are forced into. Now there’s a new sentimental French entry with a title even more universally understood than “Voilà”, so maybe they decided to go back to what worked in the past. But rather than a rehash, this is an upgrade. Where Barbara Pravi felt clean and rehearsed, Slimane appears distraught, pathetic, overcome by guilt and longing and reduced to a bellowing, driveling slob. Exactly how chanson needs to be performed. good.
Austria: Kaleen – We Will Rave
Many people become Eurovision entrants with experience working in the world of the contest, but few have a résumé as rich as Kaleen’s. Trained as a dancer, she was a stand-in singer at rehearsals, headed stage creation for the 2022 Junior Eurovision, and worked on the staging for four countries at the 2023 regular grown-up contest. Her own entry sounds designed to take advantage of her knowledge, with a hypercharged Eurodance production fit for meticulous nonstop choreography. That would also go well with the lyrics advocating constant clubbing in the face of heartache and uncertainty. Kaleen can probably sell that idea well and even if she falters, this was co-written by one of the guys behind the Swedish and those folks can’t miss. would.
Denmark: SABA – SAND
Wow, when you find one good idea, you really wanna stick to it. SABA delivers this reflection on a disintegrating relationship with the right amount of urgency and pain, even though she doesn’t have too much to work with. The writers were apparently really impressed with the sand metaphors they came up with – you know, how it’s impossible to grasp and how it’s not a durable construction material – so they make her sing this word a whole bunch of times. Even a voice this potent can sound a little odd when shouting “SAAAAAAND”, but SABA does give it her all and I think that’s gonna be enough. But it’s just as likely success would slip through her fingers like.. hmm.. can’t think of a word. could.
Armenia: LADANIVA – Jako
This edition of ESC is somewhat bereft of so-called “ethnic” entries, meaning songs from Eastern Europe that let you know they’re from Eastern Europe. Anyone upset about those countries daring to attempt conventional pop would have to get their fill with this one. In under 2.5 minutes, singer Jaklin Baghdasaryan rejects societal demands and invites you to buck the norms with her, while multi-instrumetalist Louis Thomas plays, well, multiple instruments. The verses are very short and most of the song is the “lai la lai” hook, leaving enough time for a short flute solo and some call-and-response vocals. Personally I don’t come to the contest expecting every country east of the Danube to give me folklore exhibition, and the song is about defying expectations anyway. But this year it’s a well-needed breather. would.
Latvia: Dons – Hollow
Here’s a riddle for you: If there are tons of Eurovision songs about being an individual with a unique identity, can any of them have a unique identity? The answer: Yeah I think so. This one is pretty believable anyway. Dons sings about embracing his character flaws and aberrations, even as they might even hurt him, as long as he can avoid falling in line. It’s not a super innovative approach, especially with the starkly minimal arrangement and deep voice (not to mention the religious references) that are highly reminiscent of Hozier and his legion of followers. But Dons comes to his own on the chorus and sells the sentiment quite well, maybe even well enough to qualify. could.
Spain: Nebulossa – ZORRA
This entry got more attention than most, in part because of its saucy title and refrain. On the ESC website it’s translated as “Vixen”, but I think it’s closer in meaning to a 90s hit celebrating the complexities of womanhood. Like that earlier song, this one sees a mature lady reclaiming an insult to push against restrictive and inhospitable mindsets. The difference here is that vocalist Mery Bes doesn’t list the various aspects of her personality and the inability to define her, but rather stresses her constantly outgoing, perhaps provocative nature and her unwillingness to change for any critic. This is an admirable message, which puts me in an unfair position because I really don’t like this song. The production is cheap, Bes’ vocal range is nearly non-existent, and the repeated “zorra” chants change very quickly from defiant to mind-numbing. Doesn’t feel good to play the crusty old man but that’s the role I got here. rude.
San Marino: MEGARA – 11:11
Another song in Spanish, this time from San Marino. For the past few years, the microstate decided for some reason to organize a televised selection process, which has quickly become Europe’s recycling bin. Acts from various countries, many of whom made unsuccessful attempts to represent their home states, come to try and nab a ticket underwritten by a nation willing to try anything. This year, it chose Spanish metal band MEGARA, who came fourth at their local national final last year. And they’re proud of it; lead vocalist Kenzy Loevett says the band “lit up Benidorm” (the city where the Spanish selection takes place) between taunts at detractors and various rock clichés. By San Marino standards, this is a masterpiece, and has far better chances to qualify than most of the country’s recent entries. would.
Georgia: Nutsa Buzaladze – Firefighter
You think it’s weird there’s a song called “Fighter” and one called “Firefighter” this year? That’s nothing, 2015 had two entries named “Warrior”, one of them from Georgia too. Man, those guys just can’t catch a break. This one is quite interesting because it’s uptempo number where fire is actually a bad thing, pretty unusual for Eurovision. This is one of those entries with lyrics that can be applied to both romantic and geopolitical hardships, with all the house demolition metaphors and the calls for love. Pretty good, might go either way, but it mentions rising like a phoenix so at least it holds on to the greats. could.
Belgium: Mustii – Before the Party’s Over
Mustii will always have a special place in the heart of Eurovision fans because he was announced as the Belgian representative way back in August, so he helped the season get into gear sooner. I’m not sure whether that’s all he’s gonna have though. The early news was exciting, the name of his entry was promising, but the song itself isn’t quite as uplifting as one might have assumed. It’s not a bad song but with a languid beat, a faintly memorable chorus, and the title only showing up more than 2 minutes in, it’s gonna struggle to stand out, especially this deep into the broadcast. Many viewers patient enough to stick around and watch would likely relate to the lyrics of the second verse: “They told us it was paradise / But I’ll barely make it through the night“. could.
Estonia: 5MIINUST x Puuluup – (nendest) narkootikumidest ei tea me (küll) midagi
And we have a winner for catchiest title. Parsing out the different elements here is quite draining, but from what I can gather 5MIINUST is a rap group and Puuluup are a folk duo who here play a bowed instrument called a talharpa. They all seemingly try to talk their way out of a drug bust, telling the cops only rich people do drugs and their own vices are just beer, music and mushrooms (as food). Personally I’d handcuff them just for having annoying voices, except whoever does the “ooooh”, that guy’s good to go. It’s not quite a novelty entry, even with all the fake moustaches and bad dancing in the video, but it gets irritatingly close. And of course, in Eurovision the formula is: goofy appearance + local unknown instrument – nice melody = qualification. would.
Italy: Angelina Mango – La Noia
After last year’s contest, I got mildly annoyed at Italy’s persistent success and adoration in ESC despite of (and especially with) largely formulaic material. I’m glad to report they took my lecture to heart. For the first time since 2016, they’re represented by a female vocalist, this time with a propulsive tune giving ennui a positive twist, where lack of excitement becomes a desired state of bliss. But this isn’t some smug, laid-back ode to idleness; Mango (real name) reflexively notes how unattractive this topic might be and sighs at the requirement to find and share her pain. She’s also aware of the hardships life has in store for everybody but decides to exist with them without making them the core of her existence. In a culture of trauma dumping and oversharing, lines such as “I live without suffering / There’s no greater cross to bear” or “A crown of thorns will be the dress code for my party” (approximate translations) sound slightly sarcastic but defiantly optimistic. The sonic palette is defined in the lyrics as cumbia, though with the four-on-the-floor bass and Balkan-sounding horns it’s a little more expansive. Whatever the genre, “The Boredom” (direct translation) is anything but. good.
Israel: Eden Golan – Hurricane
OK, deep breath. This will probably be a long one. When I write these posts I try to judge the music on its own merits, but I’m against the mental exercise of separating the art from the artist, and I definitely won’t advocate for separating the art from the country. Being part of the world and reading the news has often impacted my feelings towards entries from countries like Russia, Belarus or Azerbaijan, and I can’t blame anyone who comes with similar emotional baggage to Israeli entries. Of course, when it’s my home country it gets even trickier to just listen to the song. But the fact there is a song at all is very much not a given.
Israel’s participation in the contest has always been controversial, this year much more so, and the controversy actually started in Israel itself. The singer was chosen through a multi-week TV competition, and many felt this kind of light entertainment is inappropriate given the scope of the horrors in October, as they felt towards Eurovision as well. Then as the reality show progressed, alongside the reality of war, many in the world wanted the European Broadcasting Union, which organizes ESC, to take a stand and keep Israel out. The EBU walked a tightrope by rejecting the prospective Israeli entry and demanding revisions several times, even past the submission deadline. This whole saga left everyone feeling attacked and silenced, and these feelings are still very present during Eurovision week.
One of the worst parts of this ordeal is the entry we got is pretty anticlimactic. Though obviously no song could be satisfying under these circumstances. Understandably this is a ballad done as tastefully as possible, with minimal references to real events that are still clear if you look deep enough. For example, “Living in a fantasy, ecstasy” seems to relate to the rave where hundreds of Israelis were murdered. I don’t find any offensive jingoistic undertones here although the last part, sung in Hebrew and directed at god, rubs me the wrong way just because I don’t like mixing religious ideas into secular music. Golan delivers it all with very impressive vocal ability, but in the end it’s another Eurovision ballad. It’s neither clearly deserving nor underserving of qualification, but I’m sure whatever happens, there’ll be people to use it as proof of a great hateful conspiracy. We all lose. could.
Norway: Gåte – Ulveham
Now that the hard part is out of the way, let’s all unwind with a thousand-year-old tale of a young woman who turns into a wolf and eats her evil stepmother. Gåte are a folk metal band, so of course they’ll turn to a spooky ancient ballad for inspiration. Well, “inspiration” is putting it mildly, given that the original version just used the old tune’s lyrics. As happened with the 2021 Ukrainian entry that heavily relied on folk traditions, the band wrote new words to align with ESC rules. But they were able to keep the sample of a herding call recorded about a century ago, which opens the song and sets the pastoral yet tense mood. They do bring enough elements of their own, like the tasty guitar riffs, the regional string instrument, and the post-chorus mix of pained yelps and deep growls. If entries were ranked by originality, maybe Gåte would’ve been stuck near the bottom, but that’s not how things work around here. would.
Netherlands: Joost Klein – Europapa
Again, I don’t like novelty entries. I don’t like the goofy moustaches, the exaggerated facial expressions, the silly voices, or the needy direct address to the audience. This is all that, but also a little more. First, the beat isn’t generic 90s nostalgia but refers specifically to Dutch happy hardcore, so much so that one of the subgenre’s pioneers took part in writing and producing the entry. Second, Klein sounds melancholic in parts of the song, which makes more sense in light of the sincere coda where he talks to his deceased father. Earlier he mentions another song where people focused on the danceable production more than the theme of paternal loss, but it won’t be accurate to say he reaches the emotional heights of that song. Nor does his celebration of cross-European travel sound as convincing or enjoyable as other works on the same topic. But he’s going for something more meaningful, and even if I don’t think he fully succeeds, at least he’s better than Finland. would.
Well that was fun, wasn’t it? I’m done reviewing and there’s more than 30 minutes to go before the broadcast. Must be record for me. I’ll leave you with my personal list of qualifiers like I did for the first semi-final. But I think I’ll only go back to it when I recap the final on Saturday. Well, the final is on Saturday, the recap I might finish anytime between the following Sunday and the following December. Wish me, yourselves, all of us, luck.
Greece
Albania
Armenia
Norway
Switzerland
Latvia
Israel
Georgia
Netherlands
Denmark
Random on Purpose 