ESC Insight’s Musical Moments Of 2021 Written by Ewan Spence on January 12, 2022 | 2 Comments

Ewan Spence

‘Il Quadro Punk Rock’, by Achille Lauro and Fiorello

This.

Achille Lauro performs ”Il Quadro Punk Rock’, (RAI / Sanremo 2021)

Watch the full performance on RAI Play.

‘Rena Rama Ding Dong‘, by Eva Rydberg & Ewa Roos

The Eurovision Song Contest can be, wonderfully, countless things to countless people. Every moment is special to someone. That moment could be as large as the freedom of expression offered by the stage, right down to a single brief glance down a camera that sparks a tidal wave of emotion. It could be one perfect moment of Parisian joy, or an absolute slice of Italian rock (‘Specchio’ by Elisabetta Lizza, which I must have left on a loop for three days after RAI announced its Junior Eurovision entry).

2021 was a bad year, and any light in the darkness was welcome. Those early months, with the National Final season in full swing, was a bright point for me, with one of those bright points found in a pitch perfect light entertainment move by SVT.

Melodifestivalen has to do many things. For our community, it’s all about choosing Sweden’s entry to the Song Contest. For major artists it’s a chance to get on prime time TV and be in the media circus for a few months, for smaller artists it could be their first big break or a chance to build on a promising career. And as one of Sweden’s biggest shows from its public service broadcaster, there’s a wider responsibility to entertain the nation, no matter the circumstances.

Eva Rydberg & Ewa Roos were not appearing at MelFest to fly the flag for Sweden. Nor were they there to launch their career or promote a new album. They were there to entertain the nation, if not the continent, and to create a happy moment in everyone watching. Which they succeeded at marvellously.

To this day, playing ‘Rena Rama Ding Dong’ puts a smile on my face wheneverI need it.

Tack.

Samantha Ross

‘Qami Qami’ by Maléna

I completely admit that I’m biased, since I was on the eurovision.tv payroll for this year Junior Eurovision Song Contest, but I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for Junior Eurovision. Many fans of the “big Eurovision” unfairly pooh-pooh the event, as they imagine sickly-sweet bubblegum pop performed by kids who are led around like marionettes by stage parents who would put Mama Rose to shame. Having been behind the scenes for three editions of Junior now, I can firmly quash that image.

The performers who gathered in Paris this December came from diverse backgrounds and experience levels, with a genre variety that bounced from balladry to rap to rock to fado, but they all came to La Seine Musicale with the same sense of universal enthusiasm and palpable joy. The fact that the event took place in the run-up to Christmas just made Junior Eurovision 2021 that much more special.

Last year’s winner ‘J’imagine’ was a perfect example of the kind of song that would appeal to the younger end of Junior Eurovision’s voting audience. For an event where participants need to be between the ages of eight and fourteen, ‘J’imagine’ very much felt like a song for kids, by kids. However, the tastes and preferences of an eight year old viewer can be completely different from those of their fourteen-year-old siblings, and a solid Junior Eurovision entry has to appeal to both Disney fans and TikTok content creators alike.

And that’s where Armenia stepped up this year. With an immensely polished production and a great hook, ‘Qami Qami’ was able to bridge the gap, appealing to both the international public vote as well as the jury (where she came in a very close third place), clinching Armenia’s second Junior Eurovision win. Even viewers who had only watched the adult edition of the Contest were impressed, and you can bet that ‘Qami Qami’ will be heard in a Euroclub in the future. Once we’re allowed to have Euroclubs again…

In a Contest where France’s young Valentina can pass the trophy to Armenia’s Maléna (who as of the time of this article’s publication, has turned fifteen and has now officially aged out of Junior Eurovision), it just goes to show that the competition casts a wide net, and that all are welcome.

‘Birth of a New Age’, by Jeangu Macrooy

Representing your nation at the Eurovision Song Contest is always fraught with pressure, but to do so on home soil? Intense. And to rise to the occasion twice with two honest, impactful, and wildly varied songs? Immense. And to do so with songs that lift up your community and shine light on issues of representation, pride, and resilience? Incredible.

After the deeply soulful and vulnerable ode to self-reflection and healing that was ‘Grow’, I honestly didn’t know which direction Jeangu would go with his 2021 entry. He could have easily stayed in that same lane and created something similar, which I’m sure would have been beautiful. However, after witnessing the 2020 Black Lives Matter demonstrations that bubbled up globally, Macrooy reached into his own story and that of his Surinamese culture to give us ‘Birth of a New Age’.

While we’ve had performers of Surinamese descent at Eurovision (including the Song Contest’s first black artist, Milly Scott), Jeangu made sure that his roots were front and center, from the kawina influences in the melody to the usage of the Sranan Tongo language in the chorus. The imagery continued on in the official music video, which highlighted African and Afro-Surinamese art, fashion, and dance in the halls of museums in the capital city of the colonial power that had previously suppressed and subjugated those cultures. And now here Jeangu stood, representing the Netherlands, Suriname, and so many other people who’ve risen (and, frankly, are still rising) from similar hardships.

Yu no man broko mi, mi na afu sensi….You can’t break me down, I’m half a cent.

It takes a lot of skill to create a song that is both timeless and also completely of its moment, and I honestly feel that ‘Birth of a New Age’ is a perfect example.

Grantangi, Jeangu!

Ben Robertson

‘Tänker inte alls gå hem’, by Arvingarna

I wasn’t expecting much from Sweden’s Eurovision entrants from 1992 before their appearance at this year’s Melodifestivalen. They were put into the same star-studded first heat of Melodifestivalen as bigger name veterans Jessica Andersson and Danny Saucedo, as well as Kadiatou and Paul Rey as draws for the younger crowd.

I also wasn’t a huge fan of ‘I Do’, which stuttered through Andra Chansen to the 2019 Final, and thought their cabaret style cheese would turn mouldy a year or two later. How wrong I was.

In hindsight I should have had more faith in the combination of Nanne Grönvall, Thomas G:Son, Bobby Lundgren and Stefan Brunzell to create a polish slick and competitive number. Musically I love the melody line, in particular the bending on the words ‘galen’ and ‘allting’ in the chorus that gives the performance its much-needed flamboyant character. I also want to big up the key change (there are few key changes out there that give the crescendo lift that this does here) and the finale that harks back to Carola’s ending moment from ‘Främling’ in a way all Swedes of a certain age will instantly recognise. The unapologetically retro nature of this song is its charm, but it delivers the goods so well.

Lyrically the song tells us how the artists go dancing through the streets, with more and more people coming out to join them for an unashamed night of joy. The times of February 2021 weren’t the brightest of days, and this moment of escapism, throwback nostalgia and family fun was desperately needed everywhere from Luleå to Lund.

And, as a schlager/dansband/retro performance number, I think this is going to be a surprising hit on the circuit…  once the world is a place of liberated disco and EuroClubs once more. Even if half the club ends up singing the ‘misheard’ English lyrics.

‘Sinä päivänä kun kaikki rakastaa mua’, by Danny

I’m sure a collective gasp of ‘oh no’ went around some in Finnish media circles when the 78-year-old Danny was named as an act in Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu.

As far as my non-Finnishness can understand, Danny is an oh-too-legendary old crooner with decades of hits that seem embarrassing to modern ears and a personal life the tabloids play up to the nines.

Most notable for readers of ESC Insight is that Danny was, from 2016 to 2020, dating Erika Vikman – yes, the artist of ‘Cicciolina’ fame. One has to wonder if those lyrics of sexual liberation are linked to the intense media interest in their Erika’s relationship to Danny, her elder by fifty years.

There is relevance to talk about Danny’s ex here because the same songwriter, Janne Rintala, is the person behind both ‘Cicciolina’ and Danny’s UMK entry this past year. While this is the antithesis to Erika’s smash hit musically, they both are home to some of the cleverest lyrics ever put into three minutes on stage.

There is an autobiographical feel to this traditional ballad, with a title that translates as ‘On The Day That Everyone Loves Me’. That day, the song makes clear, would be Danny’s funeral, and one can imagine this song as the instructions on how that funeral should be given to his nearest and dearest after his death. Featuring side swipes at paparazzi and old flames, the lyrics are peppered with humour and honesty that can only come from a man “who has seen as much as four men ever do”.

On release on January 17th 2021 death, and the fear of death for our older generation, was high on the agenda in Finland and beyond. The level of gravitas that a song about death, and one so positively reflecting on its inevitability, had never felt so timely. For a character so divisive in Finnish culture to presumably end his career with something so profound is majestic.

Watch out for that name Janne Rintala if he appears again in Uuden Musiikin Kilpailu – I would argue there are few better examples of a master wordsmith in any language in today’s music industry.

Philip Colclough

‘Love Is On My Side’ by The Black Mamba

I’ve got to a stage in my life where I can appreciate the finer things in life. A good bottle of red wine at room temperature, some aged stilton with a vintage port, a Business Class flight with a reputable airline enjoying their hospitality. All of these things are liable to give me a severe case of gout if one over indulges (and I do), but one thing I can never get enough of is fine music.

Portugal’s song doesn’t tick all of the perceived Eurovision boxes. It’s not got any pyro, it’s not got an in your face dance routine, and it’s not even got a key change. but it was never positioned to that wide an audience.

I’ve  gone through their whizzy bang in your face phase of the Song Contest (my favourite song of all time is Sweden’s ‘Bra Vibrationer’ from 1985) and have come out the other side.

That’s why The Black Mamba ticks all my boxes. If RTP was trying to win again, it would more than likely go for a song with wider appeal. The delegation has seen the recipe book for that style, but they have stayed true to Portuguese music and that is to be applauded.

The public chose a song that starts both in black and white and in 4:3 aspect, sung by someone wearing a panama hat, that shouldn’t have a voice that matches his features, just singing the song. The geek in me goes mental when the aspect ratio goes to 16:9 and the country caption moves position along with the expanded screen at the bottom, and there are lovely little touches like this throughout the song such as the orchestral backing with the orchestra playing on the modern LED screens.

The whole song has more than a whiff of being the theme tune of a 1970’s Bond theme that, arguably, would have been sung by Shirley Bassey…something I would not have a problem with.

It’s pure class and gets me every time and in a Contest where the primary goal for many seems to be ‘win at all costs’, this is just a classy song which might be overlooked when it comes to the final reckoning, but keeps the Eurovision Song Contest in the forefront of my mind.

‘Shum’ by Go_A

At a New Year’s Eve party – and after lots and lots of alcohol – the Eurovision YouTube was stuck on random. Go_A appeared and was looped for about 15 minutes. This was, I am told, by design rather than by accident and what a happy design it was! When you can happily sit and watch a song played again and again you know it has something.

It has a lead singer who is playing it deadpan but if you’ve done your research you’d know that there is just a wicked side ready to burst out (I recommend at this point that you view their cover version of ‘Dancing Lasha Tumbai’ which, quite possibly, is the most deadpan thing you’ll ever see). ‘Shum’ has all the ethereal qualities of anything Ireland could have put into the Contest back in the day.

I didn’t give it a prayer in the National Final. It was too frenzied for the likes of me, or so I thought, but as soon as the penny whistle fires up and Kataryna starts, not so much singing , but chanting at you and virtually commanding you not to vote for her because she would eat you alive if you didn’t, I’m all in.

The real star, though, and the reason that I’ve included it as one of my highlights is none of that. It’s a performance on a rehearsal day which could have turned all shades of wrong.  Covid reared its ugly head in Rotterdam. Ahead of the second rehearsal, Kataryna went into precautionary isolation (she was fine, thankfully) but there was a song to perform.

Up stepped the stand-in who had performed in the April rehearsals for the stage crew, a 24 yr old local who had to miss her shift at the local branch of Subway in order to stand on the big stage once more and perform a song which is difficult enough for a native speaker to do, let alone a native speaker of another language.

It was brilliant and flawless.

Robyn Gallagher

‘Je Me Casse’ by Destiny

Ever since Destiny Chukunyere won the Junior Eurovision Song Contest in 2015, it seemed like only a matter of time before Malta would send her to the Eurovision Song Contest to give Malta its first, and much yearned for, victory. Finally Destiny was heading to Rotterdam 2021 with ‘Je Me Casse’.

Malta was not holding back. The song came with a slick but cheeky music video, while esteemed choreographer Sacha Jean-Baptiste’s team was brought in to do the staging. Malta’s tourism agency even ran sponsored content in mainstream media around Europe promoting both Destiny and Malta ahead of the Song Contest.

But come the Eurovision Grand Final, things didn’t quite work out. Let’s be clear, a seventh-place finish is a brilliant result for Malta, their best since Chiara’s silver medal in 2005. But when you’re expecting a win, anything but gold has to feel like a disappointment.

So what went wrong? Destiny’s performance was excellent but perhaps ‘Je Me Casse’ was too much of a calculated entry. The song had been bouncing around Europe before finding a home with Destiny, so it didn’t feel like it had an inherent connection to Malta.

And ‘Je Me Casse’ was in stark contrast to the higher placed songs from Italy, Ukraine, Switzerland and France. In a watershed moment, the top songs of 2021 were bold, memorable songs written by the artists themselves, all performed in a national language. Next to these, Malta’s song didn’t quite have the same ring of authenticity, and included a key lyric that was inexplicably sung in slangy French.

This came the same year that Malta brought back the Maltese-language song contest Mużika Mużika. It spawned a few local radio hits and proved the nation can deliver quality songs in its own language.

Malta’s ethos seems to be that winning Eurovision is all about a generic song with a slick package and promo — the music video, the pre-contest press, getting it all out there. But in reality most viewers only hear songs for the very first time on the Saturday night and recent acts have won or placed highly without nearly as much pre-Contest promo.

It seems inevitable that Destiny will eventually return to Eurovision. When she returns, Malta would be better off to stop trying to engineer the perfect Eurovision entry and take a more artistic approach that feels truer to Malta’s spirit.

‘Amour fou’ by Pony X

In 2020, it felt like France was experiencing a wobble in their Eurovision renaissance. They’d internally selected the charismatic singer Tom Leeb but gave him the dull song ‘Mon alliée (The Best in Me)’. While some 2020 artists were invited back for 2021, the French delegation held a brand new National Final.

It was a stellar lineup, with 12 diverse songs vying to represent France in Rotterdam. And among all the acts was the dance-pop duo Pony X with their song ‘Amour fou’ (or ‘Crazy Love’).

This wildly catchy song was very welcome. ‘Amour fou’ paid tribute to the novelty dances of the 1960s, mashed up with current electro-pop stylings. After a year where the Song Contest was cancelled and dreams were crushed, it was a breath of fresh air to have a goofy dance-pop number that wasn’t trying to make a big statement. It was something to boogie to, even if we were dancing in our kitchens.

Pony X didn’t seem like a contender to actually make it to Rotterdam though juror Jean Paul Gaultier set pulses racing by awarding it his douze points. In the end, the beautiful ‘Voilà’ won and ‘Amour fou’ picked up a very respectable fourth-place finish.

‘Amour fou’ was a delight and a reminder of the musical joys that National Finals can bring. These sort of left-field acts that don’t usually make it to Eurovision but are a very welcome addition to the season.

Ross Middleton

‘Voila’ by Barbara Pravi

If the bookies’ odds were to be believed, France and Tom Leeb were not on for a strong result with the aforementioned Franco-Swedish project. The eventual glow up to their final result come May 2021 is as spectacular as any we’ve seen.

Listening through the French National Final playlist for the first time, it was evident the delegation had stepped up its game. There were several songs that would’ve fit quite nicely into any Contest. Juliette Moraine’s slow building ballad, ‘Pourvu qu’on m’aime’; Pony X’s energetic ‘Amour fou’ or an influence of Tahiti from Amui’s ‘Maeva’ would’ve all made welcome additions. However, only one was going to truly stand out. ‘Voila’ was different.

Not since Patricia Kaas’ performance in 2009 had the Eurovision stage experienced the true chanson. This time they weren’t taking any old genre, sticking a French verse in it and popping the Eiffel Tower in the background to remind the viewer what country they were watching. This was true, authentic, magnificence. It takes a special performer to live up to a name like Kaas, but in Barbara Pravi the French had such an artist.

Fresh off her songwriting glory at Junior Eurovision, Babara channeled all the frustrated passion one could wish for in ‘Voila’. Through exasperation and insecurity Pravi shines through the lyrics as she learns to accept herself for who she is. Even with just a rudimental understanding of French her beguiling performance sold every beat of her song. Any artist who can so delicately balance vulnerability and power deserves every success.

Plenty of good songs can be sung really well and still fail when it comes to the Song Contest. The staging is that last element required to connect with viewers at home. For many the abiding image of Eurovision 2021 may be Italians romping in leather or Go_A’s Kateryna Pavlenko’s ring light/halo effect, but for me, it will always be those last 40 seconds of wild steadicam. As the song reaches that manic crescendo and Pravi repeatedly exclaims “VOILA!” the seemingly manic camera work creates an exquisite moment of performance.

It feels like France are back. With this, the Junior win and subsequent hosting they feel ready to properly compete for the crown once more. I beg of you though, don’t go back to the Swedish songwriters.

‘Monument’ by Keiino

Well someone was always going to pick them!

A lot has happened to the busiest cinnamon rolls in all of Norwegian pop since we first met them as a trio nearly three years ago. After being especially put together for MGP in 2019 Keiino have released an album, toured the world and crucially, they have gelled as an act. Alexandra, Fred and Tom still have all the infectious glee of when they first formed but now with a more refined, grown-up edge. This development as a group brought us ‘Monument’ in 2021.

Go back and watch the MGP performance of ‘Spirit in the Sky’ and then compare that to their ‘Monument’ performance in the same competition. After only a few months of working together there’s still clearly insecurities when they perform in that first final. Fast forward two years and the difference is markable. There is no longer a need for drummers or dancers, just Keiino doing what they do best. Any uncertainty or nerves have vanished as the trio claimed the NRK stage as their own, if not the actual competition itself.

Much like ‘Voila’, and all other tracks that go on to find meaning beyond the Contest, for me ‘Monument’ was there from the first listen. From that initial stream on YouTube, with Alexandra chatting with fans in the comments, it just… landed. Fred’s ethereal joiking, no longer the surprise factor it once was, opens up front and centre.There follows Alexandra’s haunting solo verse, Fred returning to his roots in rap, Tom & Alex’s vocals woven together beautifully all leading to “thunder and gloria!”

Keiino had done it again. Once more they found the flawless blend of traditional folk music and total powerhouse pop. Some will say they came back to compete too soon or claim that purely because it isn’t ‘Spirit in the Sky mk. II’ the trio were wrong to return to Melodi Grand Prix. There’s also a case to be made there, given the results themselves. However, in a stacked selection, they still scored a Superfinal placing. Moreover they were able to share their music and continue the creative journey they have been on since 2019.

After Tel Aviv it would’ve been easy for them to bask in the glory of their televote success and quietly go their separate ways. We are, however, seeing them develop as a group regardless of whether or not they make it to back to the Contest. One of the pure joys of being a Eurovision fan is getting to share in that journey along the way.

Fin Ross Russell

‘Iron Heart’ by Ben & Tan

If 2020 emphasised one thing in the world of the Eurovision Song Contest, it’s that sometimes the beauty is more in imagining what could have been than rather than what actually happened. Nobody hits home this idea to me more than Ben & Tan.

With ‘Yes’ set to be a dark horse at Rotterdam 20202 and a generally positive reception from the community, it seemed obvious that DR would give Ben & Tan an option to represent Denmark in 2021, whether through an internal selection or with a place at Dansk Melodi Grand Prix 2021. In April 2020, all chatter on the subject seemed to be laid to rest when Danish broadcaster DR announced that they would run DMGP the following year and Ben & Tan responded by announcing that they wouldn’t be competing for the following year’s Danish ticket. So when on February 10th 2021, the eight songs competing in the national final were published, it was no surprise to see Ben & Tan not on the list.

Eleven days later, reports began surfacing that Ben & Tan had in fact submitted a song called ‘Iron Heart’ for DMGP and that it had been rejected by the broadcaster. This surprising revelation was further compounded by press from both the band and broadcaster which hinted at tension in their relationship

‘Iron Heart’ represents a lyrical and musical maturing from ‘Say Yes’ that doesn’t lose any of the fresh and youthful energy and style that made their 2020 entry so popular. The guitars are stomping, the vocals were soaring and the musical style stood out from anything on offer at either Dansk Melodi Grand Prix or the Song Contest itself in 2021. DMGP ended up selecting Fyr og Flamme who had great commercial success with their entry ‘Øve os på hinanden’ but ultimately failed to qualify from its Semi Final. I think Ben & Tan would have sailed through to Saturday night. Even though ‘Iron Heart’ was definitely not good enough to win the Contest, it would have given Ben & Tan the chance to surpass all expectations on Grand Final night that they were denied in 2020 as a result of the pandemic.

‘In the Middle’ by The Mamas

There is a cruel irony that in the year that Melodifestivalen gave us our most surprising winner in years that the coronavirus pandemic intervened to ensure The Mamas would not get to go to the Eurovision Song Contest. When one looks at the line-up of Melodifestivalen 2020, it’s insane to see the acts that they beat out in the final to both tie the international jury vote and win the televote by a point.

One year on and as a Melodifestivalen that felt weaker than usual rattled through the first three Semi Finals, I found it difficult to focus on anything other than “what were The Mamas going to send?” Having been such a huge fan of ‘Move’, I knew that I didn’t want a song that felt exactly the same but I also didn’t want something that veered too far from their soulful style. Then the minute-long snippet of ‘In the Middle’ came out alongside the rehearsal footage on which a key change could be heard and I knew that it was exactly the song I hoped they would send.

I always knew the Mamas weren’t going to win Melodifestivalen. Ahead of the final, I was sure it was going to be Eric Saade and his white square/black curtain combination that won. In retrospect however, it’s clear that Tusse was always going to win with his powerful life story, unique voice and powerful staging.

Yet there are so many things about their participation in the MelFest Final that I feel immensely proud of, not only in the imagery of seeing three black women full of confidence on a stage that has favoured white men quite often in the recent past. Their mid-song costume changes were Wow-inducing, their vocals were perfect and as with the previous year, they gave the performance everything even though the odds were against them. But the most powerful image of them all was to see the two highest televote scores go to Tusse and The Mamas (a window into what future contests look like in which racial difference is celebrated) and to see the delighted trio hand Tusse the trophy just as John Lundvik had done to them a year earlier.

Is there a slight tragedy that they will not go to Eurovision? Of course there is. But even if the Mamas never win Melodifestivalen again, their participation in the contest first as part of John Lundvik’s act in 2019 and then over the subsequent two editions as a group of their own has totally changed the landscape of Eurovision’s most popular national final and in so doing, will evolve the type of performance that Sweden send to the Eurovision Song Contest for the better.

Monty Moncrieff

‘Russian Woman’ by Manizha

I still have to catch myself when I think of the way an artist like Manizha with a song like this made it to the Eurovision stage at all. We were all expecting the return of Little Big for Russia until the rumours began to circle that we were to have a National Final instead. Ultimately one with an impressive line-up of former entrants as guests, but one in which Little Big played only a promotional role.

It was a small competitive field of only three acts, but one in which Manizha clearly shone. Her in-the-round presentation piqued the interest even before we understood the song’s message. Although women are celebrated in Russian culture – most visibly on International Women’s Day and via the third vodka toast traditionally being “To women!” such lauding has its roots in a far more patriarchal system. Manizha instead mocked the impossible standards and contradictions to which Russian women are held, celebrated single motherhood and championed the freedom to choose your own destiny.

Simply by taking part Manizha invited us to embrace a different Russia to that which has frequently attracted boos from the Contest audience; a Russia – and Russians – full of youthful optimism whose values diverge vastly from those of its socially conservative government, and one which offers hope of what this new generation may eventually be able to usher in.

On stage in Rotterdam Manizha’s playful feminism was fully on show. This adopted-Russian-via-Tajikistan woman had a platform, and she was using it. Filling the LED wall with photos embracing a true diversity of Russian women was a glorious moment. But being scuttled around the stage under an enormous traditional dress before literally stepping out from under the constraints of gender-role expectation was the delightful highlight of this charming presentation.

Listen up, Vladimir Vladimirovich; we’d like a little more like this.

‘Smile’ by Big Daddy Karsten

I met Karsten when I took a last-minute trip to the Norwegian Melodi Grand Prix with some of the ESC Insight crowd in 2018. It was in a local gay bar, well away from the musical action. He told me he was becoming known as a rapper in Norway, but I think he laughed out loud when I suggested that one day I might see him in the National Final.

Fast forward to 2021 and I was waiting for him to be announced to the world, one of a select few he’d excitedly shared his news with. I was nervous as to what the Song Contest community would make of him. Rap is not exactly a prime Eurovision genre after all. But I knew Smile had an infectiously catchy hook and I knew he had all the charm needed to pull it off. I was thrilled when people reacted well.

But it’s not just our friendship that’s made me choose this: I genuinely love what Big Daddy Karsten brings to his music, blending styles, crossing genres, and being gorgeously, unapologetically queer. ‘Smile’ celebrates sex, sexuality, and diverse relationships on prime-time Saturday evening TV, on a show that only a year ago had got it so wrong with the tone deaf ‘I Am Gay’, a flimsy pop track that had been sung – perhaps we could say appropriated – by a heterosexual singer.

This kind of visibility would have been unimaginable even just a few years ago. Thank you for putting this ‘Smile’ on our faces.

AJ Clay

‘Let Loose’ by Blåsemafian feat. Hazel

Melodi Grand Prix provided us with a delightful assortment in 2021, from Emmy’s witchy feminist anthem, to Big Daddy Karsten’s delightful ode to gay throuples, and TuVeia’s highly rural in-joke-laden ‘Bli med meg på gar’n’. But one act in particular filled me with joy (besides the ever-popular KEiiNO): Blåsemafian, or ‘The Blowing Mafia’.

Bursting onto the stage in a flurry of brass and retro pink and blue 80s-ish lighting, the trio were joined by vocalist Hazel who brought a wonderful slice of house-style vocals to proceedings. Indeed, with their branded baseball caps and boxfresh trainers, Blåsemafian wouldn’t look out of place on an upbeat 90s episode of Top of the Pops.

But what sets them apart for me is the way they make their instruments fun. Brass in the UK is inextricably linked to dour colliery bands marching down a rainy cobbled Northern street, niche late-night Radio 2 programmes, and the like. Here, the tuba is brightly painted with graffiti, and the trombone is waved around as part of a funky dance. They’re unironically, gloriously cool. And their act brings a huge smile to my face, which is what we all need in the cold winter nights.

In terms of song construction, it’s oddly light on vocals and heavy on the tooty brass solo sections, which put me in mind of previous Norwegian winner ‘Secret Garden’ and ‘Nocturne’. And that’s no bad thing.

‘Let Loose is loaded with the energy of a late 80s/early 90s house classic, plus the ‘bomp bomp bomp’ will stick in your head forever. Don’t get me wrong: I will always be a proud KEiiNO fan, but there will always be a space on my 2021 playlist for Blåsemafian.

‘Saudade’, by Karetus & Romeu Bairos

I was late arriving to the Festival da Cancao fandom; I was indifferent to Salvador, and most FdC entries didn’t stick with me for some reason. But over the past few years the selection show has grown into a firm household favourite; after the chaos of juggling multiple National Finals on a Super Saturday, the late-night laid-back vibe was just the tonic. And the increasingly diverse selection of songs has been a real treat.

‘Saudade’ is one of those words that’s hard to accurately translate, but it conjures a feeling of longing, melancholy or bittersweet nostalgia characteristic of the Portuguese psyche. Karetus and Romeu Bairos conspired to enter FdC over a bottle of wine, and nothing short of genius emerged as a result.

The lyrics are simple but evocative, conjuring up a rain-soaked, lonely town where someone pines for a lost love: “Na rua ninguém havia/ Nenhum fadista cantava” (‘There was no-one on the street/No fado singer sang’). The blend of nostalgic fado with a twist of modern electronica is a great way to look at Portugal’s ESCs of the past, while looking forward to the exciting acts to come. There’s also a nod to tradition with the group’s colourful tasselled costumes and demonic masks, which made for a haunting performance.

Karetus and Romeu have sold fado to me in a unique way, and I’ll always be grateful.

Roy Delaney

‘You’, by Tornike Kipiani

It was a classic year for the Eurovision Song Contest, but with such strength and depth across this year’s roster, there’s one absolute masterpiece that has quite puzzlingly been mostly ignored. This one.

Regular visitors to the ESC Apocalypse blog will know that we’ve been keeping an eye on this lad since his first unhinged stab at international success with ‘You Are My Sunshine’ in 2017, but even we weren’t prepared for the utter beauty of this song.

Opening with a gorgeously chilled passage of phasing electronica – as if he’d just stepped out a spaceship in an eighties movie – Tornike took us on a cosmic journey around the galaxy as he explained why, just why, he feels this way about his love. It’s simple, but at the same time deceptively complex when you delve in and study the song’s construction.

If this was by an achingly hip shoegazey band like Spiritualized it would be considered one of the all time alternative greats. But instead it’s consigned to the bin of Eurovision oddities – a fate it truly doesn’t deserve.

‘The Rosamunda Medley’, by Extraliscio ft. Davide Toffolo with Peter Pichler

It was a Sanremo for the ages in 2021. After a semi-disastrous first effort the year previous, host and artistic director Amadeus pulled out all the stops and presented us with one of the most enjoyable televisual experiences we’d had in an entire, difficult year. With an array of killer acts in competition, some inspired guest artists, a winner that transcended Sanremo itself, and Achille Lauro cementing himself as The Greatest Pop Star On The Continent, there were so many highlights that I could have picked from the five days of this most magical of festivals.

But the one performance that’s stuck with me, if only for the pure unabashed joy of it, was in this little beaut from the duets round. Where most of the other artists merely grabbed another famous singer to warble meaningfully along with them, Extraliscio brought in Pete Pichler to play his obscure and bizarre early electronic instrument the Trautonium. A strange yet inspired move.

As the band slowly sped up their medley of singalong bar room favourites, and Peter got more and more twiddly noodly on his historic piece of kit, things got more and more chaotic, and by the time that pair of folk dancers trotted on to spin about wildly in the background you just didn’t know which part of the nonsense to lock your eyes onto. THIS was the complete party song of the year, and in a time where few of us had yet mustered up the courage to go and watch any kind of live music, it was a welcome and utterly batshit release.

Extraliscio performs ‘Rosamunda’ at Sanremo 2012 (RAI)Rosamunda,

You can watch the performance on Facebook here.

And Now, The 2022 Show…

With that, our total focus turns to the National Final season for 2022. Following Estonia and Albanian started us off in December, we have songs and votes to look forward to every Saturday night until mid-March. ESC Insight will be here as always, taking a closer look at the Eurovision Song Contest, bringing you our regular podcasts, and looking forward to Turin. We look forward to you joining us on our journey.

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