Not Quite a Copycat: Retrofitting the Inspirational Written by Roy Delaney on April 24, 2014 | 2 Comments

For our final look at the Eurovision songs from 2014 that remind us of other songs and acts, we’ve turned to friend of the parish Roy Delaney. As well as watching out for ‘the good the bad and the unlikely’ during National Final season at Eurovision Apocalypse, Delaney is a rather accomplished musical journalist. If you thought that some of the connections were a bit obscure in previous weeks, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

If you’ve been following this small series you’ll have noticed that we’re not here to shout “Plagiat!” at the top of our voices, but instead steer you gently towards other music of a similar vein that you may not have got your ears around before.

Sure, home boy Basim drinks heavily from the cup of Mars, but aping Bruno’s happy-go-lucky larking about is surely no bad thing. Yes, Belarus’ boy Teo may well have seen the video for ‘Blurred Lines’ more than a couple of times, but despite his stylistic similarity to old greasy Thicke, the song’s somehow considerably less appealing. And of course, the ‘Amazing‘ Estonian’s only similarities to ‘Euphoria‘ is in its one word title and the fact it’s sung by a girl.

Lady Gaga’s lawyers should be much more concerned, but they’re busy watching the video for ‘La Mia Citta‘

But we don’t want to talk about the obvious, or the fact that Twin Twin claim to have written ‘Moustache‘ a full year before their previous protege Stromae penned his uber hit ‘Papaoutai‘. No, we want to point out some of the tunes that even the artists who sing them didn’t imagine they were subconsciously lifting.

Call it cultural constancy, call it a global musical hive mind – but here’s a few bits of songing from outside of the ESCosphere that spring to our music lobes when we slam on this year’s original soundtrack.

Three Minutes To Urgh

When Georgia finally presented us with the tricky time signatures of their 2014 Eurovision hit, a continent of ESC fans looked puzzled and barked “Huh?”.

Clearly lacking the musical reference points to decipher that guttural noodling and wobbly basslines, they should instead have dipped into their funny uncle’s prog rock collection from the early 1970s – because his cupboard is full of this stuff. And prime peddlars of the prog folk fusion scene were Pentangle. Their weaving guitar lines and ululating doe-eyed lady vocals were the first thing that came to mind when the meat of the Shin tune finally kicked in. Their 1969 album ‘Basket of Light‘ is perhaps their most accessible way in, spawning their sole top 50 hit, ‘Light Flight‘.

Will I Fly, Will I Fall, Off The Bridge?

The second Carl Espen started to sing, his haunted voice reminiscent of a sad bear, one song instantly sprang to mind. It was a song familiar to fans of Scandi noir, although most of them would have only heard the first minute, being as it was the theme tune to the Danish/Swedish crossover detective show ‘The Bridge’.

Essentially the project of Copenhagen dweller Jannis Noya Makrigiannis, the Choir of Young Believers brand has bagged a string of number one hits and awards nominations in their native Denmark over their eight year career. Much of their other material of of a more Arcade Fire style lilt, but the sparse, glacial flow of ‘Hollow Talk‘ clearly inhabits at least a small corner of Mr Espen’s universe.

Something Much Better

Transpose Softengine’s teenaged pretty boy looks for a bunch of lumpy-faced old indie blokes from Leeds and you’re not a million miles away from pretty much everything The Wedding Present ever recorded.

You could pick any number of NME cover-gracing young bucks to fill the similarity slot, but this bunch of old duffers who were chugging out a string of surprise chart hits before most of the Finnish pups were born somehow manage to evoke a similar spirit of unabashed jangly joy with the old familiar regulation band set up.

Oh Mother

Those of us at the more stately end of their 40s who grew up in an early 1970s United Kingdom will have let out a wry smile when first they experienced Axel Hirsoux’s big Belgian ballad, before mouthing two short words beneath their breath.

Neil Reid.

As a precocious 12-year-old, Glaswegian Reid briefly become one of the nation’s biggest stars after his appearance on the TV talent show ‘Opportunity Knocks‘. His featured song, ‘Mother Of Mine’, went on to sell over 2.5 million copies worldwide, and he’s still to this day the youngest person ever to register a UK number one album (although it has never been released on CD). He’s also, ahem, just about the optimum age for a male of the human species to be singing this kind of song about his mother.

However, a few less kind commentators have likened poor Axel to this somewhat unloved character from British advertising…

Look Me In The Eye And Electrify The Mumfords

It seemed like everyone and their dog wanted to sound like Mumford & Sons this season. Barely a National Final passed without some hapless band of squeaky clean raggle taggles thinking nobody would notice if they all put on brown waistcoats and heritage shirts while playing the drums standing up and holding instruments that they couldn’t spell, let alone play.

And Malta, it seems, were the most successful of these.

Indeed, perennial near-misser Richie Edwards changed not only his look and style, but his voice to ape the office class’s favourite faux folkers. And do you know what, I have a horrible suspicion that it’s going to pay dividends for them.

But it loathes me to give any kind of props to those dough-faced posh boy Brits, so here’s a rather fabulous Icelandic band called Of Monsters And Men that you may be vaguely familiar with who are doing the much the same thing – only with much more spirit and elan.

Hunter of Smack

Switzerland’s rambling, shambling whistle boy may also offer hints of that Mumford-flavoured banjolele jigger jagger, but dig a little deeper and you’ll trawl out some glorious Frenchness from the past.

Les Négresses Vertes may now be a footnote in alt music history, but back at the end of the 80s they were wedged in a curious folky punky corridor between The Pogues and Mano Negra. Their skiffle-tinged gypsy jazz was years ahead of its time, but by the time the rest of the world had caught up they’d developed a rather punishing smack habit, and lost their most bankable member to the syringe. So let that be a lesson to you, Seb! Here they are in happier times, sounding a bit more like Sebalter than even I’d remembered.

Now Shake What Your Mama Gave You!

I’ve heard Donatan & Cleo’s YouTube-busting hit likened to all manner of Balkan and Slavic turbo folko tunes over the last couple of months. But if you strip away all the hardcore folklore and booby shots you’re left with one thing – Azealia Banks. Don’t watch this video if you’re afraid of strong women speaking their mind or if you think swearing is a bad thing.

And there we have it. We hope that Roy’s picks above (as well as those from Sam and Ewan) have given you a chance to look up from the 37 songs that are about to be dissected by everyone and their dog when they reach the rehearsal stages next week. There’s just time for one final call for soundalikes in the comments.