Saturday Reject – Page 15

Saturday Reject: Janet Leon – Heartstrings

“Knocked out in the first round. How?”

Tim: RIGHT. Now as I’m writing this I’ve just finished watching the show, so emotions are slightly involved, but this came FIFTH. FIFTH. KNOCKED OUT IN THE FIRST ROUND. HOW?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n_UlSnxC2HM

Tom: Because it’s only a middling Eurovision entry?

Tim: And blimey, when you compare it to some of the utter tosh that got put straight through, it’s JUST NOT RIGHT.

Tom: Man, it must have been a pretty poor Melodifestivalen this year. I mean, it’s not bad, but this sounds about like a fifth place to me.

Tim: Well, now you mention it, yes, it’s not great at all. There’s a near-complete absence of schlager, a massive amount of generic EDM and an annoyingly large number of ‘quirky’ songs. Final heat tonight, so it might pick up, but I’m not holding my breath. But regardless of all that, however, this song is fantastic – it’s pure pop. A great and very catchy na-na-na, it’s not even let down by the verses as can happen to many songs of its type. A middle eight that almost got close enough to heavier dance to keep it even more appealing to people who might otherwise be put off by it.

Tom: The backing’s as generic as it comes, and I’m not sure I could repeat the chorus even after listening to it twice. This ain’t a winner, not by a long way.

Tim: In a good year, no, but this really should have at least made it through, to Andra Chansen if nothing else. It’s even got all the extra bits – the catsuits, the strutting, the hairflick at the end. It just adds up to something that’s so right, that when I saw it I thought it could have actually been the Melodifestivalen winner. Sweden, how could you have let this happen?

Tom: Were we listening to the same song?

Tim: Hmm. Maybe you need to see what it’s up against to appreciate it.

Saturday Reject: Daze – We Own The Universe

“Isn’t that just brilliant?”

Tim: Three months to go until Eurovision, which means it’s time to kick these off – the best of the songs that weren’t quite popular enough to get to Malmö. And we start as we hope to continue, with this from Denmark. Get your watches out, people, and set them to POPPERS O’CLOCK.

Tom: Don’t do drugs, kids.

Tim: Unless you want to have fun.

Tom: Blimey. But do start playing the keytar, kids.

Tim: God, isn’t that just brilliant? Denmark had a very high standard all round this year, which may explain why this didn’t even make the top three, but just listen to it.

Tom: I can’t believe that didn’t make the top three. I try to avoid Eurovision spoilers, but if Denmark’s rejected this one, what the hell is their actual selection going to be? If it turns out that a depressing ballad’s won it, I’ll be really disappointed.

Tim: Not a ballad, no, and it is very good and you’ll see in a few months. But this, anyway – isn’t it outstandingly amazing? The music is absolutely perfect for the lyrics, or actually just the title. It’s big and intense and dance-heavy, because it needs to be, because WE OWN THE UNIVERSE. WE. That’s US, Tom. YOU AND ME. We OWN THE UNIVERSE. The whole, entire, UNIVERSE. It’s OURS.

Tom: “It’s all coming out of us, and filling us” apparently. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but the music is PUMPED UP enough that I don’t really care.

Tim: And then watch it, as well. Isn’t it even amazinger? The gazillion spotlights. The purpleness, and the perfect timing on the purple/blue switches. The around-around-around-around-around steadicam shot. The hyperactive bald bloke doing whatever it is he’s doing.

Tom: I’m fairly sure that they’ve just told a Moby impersonator that they’ve got a laser harp, and then just got him to wave a mirror in front of a few spotlights. I don’t care, because it’s brilliant. And then there’s…

Tim: The SPARKING KEYTAR. It’s ALL THERE, and it’s all part of OUR UNIVERSE. OURS.

Saturday Reject: Ulrik Munther – Soldiers

Blimey, when that kicks in, it kicks in hard.

Tim: Unlike Lisa Miskovsky a couple of weeks back, here you can hear Ulrik playing his instruments, and then coming third. With quite a good song.

Tom: Blimey, when that kicks in, it kicks in hard. Put the drummer on a stand, and make him work for his pay.

Tim: Now, I really like this, despite a lot of reasons not to – the melody’s not much more than average, the hate and sleeveless top make him look like a bit of a bell-end and the hands-free harmonica sort of makes me want to slap his ‘look at what I can do’ attitude.

Tom: Agreed on all points.

Tim: But on the other hand, the drumming in the background adds a lot to the song, that harmonica sounds great even if it looks silly, and the vocal’s pretty great as well. So really, the best thing for me to do is listen to this but not watch it. Which, of course, would make this a terrible type of song to send to Eurovision.

Tom: I do wonder how many Eurovisions would have turned out differently if they’d been purely on the radio.

Tim: Well, Lordi can kiss goodbye to their victory for a start. And a hell of a lot of wind-machine manufacturers would go out of business.

Saturday Reject: Plumbo – Ola Nordmann

That starts like a reject from a Michael Flatley routine.

Tim: Here’s a question you’ve probably never been asked before: how many rock bands can you name with a flautist?

Tom: Depends. How good’s the flautist’s musical knowledge? Oh. Wait, never mind. Er, none.

Tim: Well, you can change that to one.

Tom: That starts like a reject from a Michael Flatley routine.

Tim: We’ve got another case here Reidun Sæther’s “THIS IS WHERE THE KEY CHANGE IS”, though to a slightly lesser extent, and while this could sort of be described as rock music, it could just as accurately be described as schlager-dressed-as-rock music. Standard progression of verses and choruses, key change, closing bit, it’s all in there. And, like many songs of this type, it works pretty damn well.

Tom: Amazing how one flute can change the tone so much, though.

Tim: It is, isn’t it? If it—the rock genre bit, that is, although it’s the case for the flute as well—became a regular thing, I don’t think it’d be so good, as part of the charm of these songs is the way they play with expectations. If it was expected, it’d be dull, and no more appealing than the usual stuff, and arguably less so. But as it is, it’s good.

Tom: That said, I can’t see it doing better than middle-of-the-table on the actual Eurovision board, so perhaps Norway did the right thing.

Saturday Reject: Lisa Miskovsky – Why Start A Fire

Can you hear even one guitar note in any part of the song?

Tim: Two questions, Tom: what do you think of this, and can you hear even one guitar note in any part of the song?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USUUwucrTzA

Tom: It’s okay but nothing special; and no. No I can’t. Which is interesting, because she’s clearly strumming it. Although I’m not sure she if ever changes the chord she’s holding.

Tim: Weird, isn’t it? But I ask what you think of it because Sweden was split on it – it went straight through to the final in its heat, but then came last in the phone vote on the night.

Tom: Interesting: a song that doesn’t grow on the audience over time.

Tim: My guess as to why? It’s almost novelty – not a weird or unusual track in itself, but it’s still got an ‘Ooh, what’s all this about?’ factor to it that got people voting the first time, but got people rejecting it the second time, either thinking ‘Yeah, we’ve seen this, bring on the next one’ or ‘Oh, come on, get to the exciting bit. What do you mean, there isn’t one? This is the final, it can’t just finish witho—oh. Apparently it can.’

Tom: Yep. It really can. It’s pleasant, but that’s all.

Tim: Actually, that may have sounded a bit harsh. It’s not dull or boring; it’s exciting enough for lots of things. It’s just not exciting enough for a Melodifestivalen final.And let’s just ignore that guitar. Because that seems to be what all but one of everybody involved in the song did.

Saturday Reject: Yulia Volkova & Dima Bilan – Back To Her Future

A bloke and a bird singing romantic guff.

Tom: A second one from Russia? I hope it’s more exciting than your last choice.

Tim: Her: best known for being the one on the left in t.A.T.u. up until about a year ago.

Tom: The redhead or the… nope. The other one. Okay.

Tim: Him: best known for winning Eurovision 2008 with the rather maligned Believe. As a pair: currently known for coming second in Russia’s selection contest.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCMQZRELgxY

Tom: Oh blimey. It’s not more exciting than your last choice?

Tim: Well, a bloke and a bird singing romantic guff worked for Azerbaijan last year – maybe it’ll work for Russia this year, is presumably what the writers thought.

Tom: I do hope Europe comes out of this love affair with romantic dirges soon, because my word twenty-five tracks like this would make for a dull Eurovision.

Tim: Well, you might be in luck as the voters chose something a bit different, but I’ve mentioned that before so I won’t dwell, aside from pointing out that ‘why didn’t it win?’ is not a sensible place to go.

Tom: Well, I’m looking forward to whatever Russia’s actual entry is. I try to avoid spoilers for Eurovision (I know, that’s a stupid idea, but I stick to it), but it has better be worth all the hype you’re putting into it.

Tim: Well, let’s do it some time this week and you can see. But this one – what’s it like as a song? Well, call me a traditionalist, but a guy and a girl singing together about an unnamed ‘her’ who’s out of his/her life comes across as a bit odd – a tri-amorous relationship, perhaps? Yes, Yulia gets half a verse where she shifts it to him, but that almost makes it stranger still, because now there’s a fourth person involved and its OH SO CONFUSING.

Music’s nice, though.

Tom: Speak for yourself.

Saturday Reject: Reidun Sæther – High On Love

LOOK AT THIS THIS IS WHEN YOU GET EXCITED YOU MUST EXPLODE WITH JOY

Tim: You’ve been to Norway, Tom – tell me, do they have a problem recognising key changes?

Tom: Not in my experience, but then my one time in a late-night club there mostly included regular US and British pop music, sadly.

Tim: Oh, shame. Well, anyway, we all know that excessive stage effects at the key change are nothing new in Eurovision (I love that one so much, I really do), but the multitude of massive spark fountains we have here seems to be saying “LOOK AT THIS THIS IS WHEN YOU GET EXCITED YOU MUST EXPLODE WITH JOY”. In fairness, it works—

Tom: Do you need a moment to clean up?

Tim: No, I pretty much contained myself—and adds even more to what is already a beauty of a key change.

Tom: It’s telegraphed way in advance, it’s got the proper ramp-up… but is it me, or does she miss that first note? That’s the trouble with carrying a key change just on voice.

Tim: Hmm – not quite sure. Having spent five minutes comparing this and the studio version, I can confidently state that there is a *very slight* difference – whether that counts as missing it entirely would be a judgment call. Still, it’s a cracking tune, and let’s be honest – it has everything a good piece of Eurovision pop should have, including lots of lengthy vocal howling (can’t think of a better word right now), a decent beat throughout, the aforementioned key change and spark fountain and fantastic use of the wind machine. I think in a general year, it could have worked, though to be honest I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Russia’s grannies with this.

Tom: I honestly think the grannies could take it.

Saturday Reject: 4Post – Навстречу небу

I can’t speak a word of Russian, but that didn’t stop me singing along.

Tim: Before you ask – “Before The Sky”.

Tom: Ah, thanks.

Tim: The rest of the lyrics? Not a clue, but the Russians clearly thought they weren’t too bad, as this came sixth out of a full 25. Yes, twenty five.

Tom: Are you sure this is being played at the right speed? It sounds like it’s a bit too low, a bit too minor-key, and much too slow.

Tim: A WEBSITE SOMEONE SHOULD MAKE: paste in a YouTube link, play it at double speed. Until then, yes it’s right, and I think it sound quite good.

Tom: In the interests of research, I pulled a copy of it down to my own laptop and sped it up to 130%. It does improve quite a bit.

Tim: Huh. Fair enough. Anyway, I can’t speak a word of Russian, but somehow that didn’t stop me singing along when that chorus came round for a second time. I don’t know the words, I don’t know what they mean, but after hearing them just once I know the syllables and that’s enough for me.

Tom: Culturally aware as ever.

Tim: Of course.

Tom: I just can’t see why you’re getting excited about it though; it’s a bit of a dirge with a decent beat behind it. The after-key-change chorus sounds vaguely tolerable, but it should have started like that.

Tim: I’ll accept that the pre-chorus bit could do with livening up a bit, but ‘dirge’ is doing a bit of a disservice to the verses and middle eight – speaking of which, why does my brain finding middle eight rapping acceptable when it’s in Russian? You are welcome to try to answer that, as I have no idea. And a second question: why didn’t this qualif—STOP. You’ve already started typing a theory or several, but you’re wasting time and energy. I can tell you right now: you’re wrong.

Tom: About your liking of Russian rap, or the lack of qualifications?

Tim: The latter. Whatever you think it should or shouldn’t be or have in order to have qualified, you’re wrong. How do I know this? Because I’ve seen what those Russians actually voted for. And believe me, it’s not what you reckon this ought to be.

But until then, everybody join in: na-FYEERSHOO!!

Tom: If we did have any Russian readers, we don’t any more.

Saturday Reject: Jesper Nohrstedt – Take Our Hearts

Let’s ignore the sentimental claptrap.

Tim: Remember how I said most of the good Danish ones have had their performance videos pulled from YouTube? Well, that’s still the case but this one that came a close second has a proper music video, so we can watch that.

Tom: That is quite the promising piano intro there.

Tim: The old man looking at pictures and stuff in the video strikes me as sentimental claptrap*, so let’s ignore that and move onto the song.

* Call me soulless, but I seem to be one of the few people who didn’t get tearful during the beginning of Up.

Tom: Harsh, but not entirely unjustified. It is a rather good song, though.

Tim: Jesper came third in Danish X Factor 2010, and my word he’s got a decent voice. The verses here are soulful and meaningful, but the song dutifully livens up for the choruses. I have a bit of an issue with the ending, although that’s partly just my ‘there MUST be a clearly defined middle eight and closing section in EVERY song’ mentality, as it does draw the song to a close effectively.

Tom: Remember a while back, when I was complaining about piano-pop getting a bit boring? This is the kind of track I was wanting to hear. You’ve got a well-defined second melody line coming from the piano, but the main melody is entirely different and being carried by someone with a really rather good voice.

Tim: I have no idea what it looked like being performed, but I’m guessing there were hearts and things all over the place—

Tom: “Things”?

Tim: Yes, things. Quiet at the back, please.

Tom: Yes, miss.

Tim: And these hearts and things would have got the mums’ vote easily enough along with him looking like a little darling (17, if you’re wondering). Then there’s the old folks’ vote with the sentimentality of it all, the young girls’ vote with the looks – he’s got the whole market covered, really and I’m a bit surprised he came last out of the text voting, but there you go. That’s Eurovision.

Saturday Reject: Dead by April – Mystery

Keep the drummer in a metal cage.

Tim: This year, Melodifestivalen had two metal entrants. There was Dynazty with Land of Broken Dreams, which was to all intents and purposes a schlager song dressed up with heavy instruments. Very much worth a listen, but for a review you can pretty much head back to last year’s review of Nicke Borg, because it fulfils a fairly similar role – a song that’ll appeal to mainstream people and will be described by the fans as ‘selling out’, and as far as I’m concerned is very enjoyable.

Then there’s this.

Tom: Sure, keep the drummer in a metal cage. Just in case he’s a bit too visible.

Tim: Well, this is about the singers. We don’t want the instrument players getting aspirations above their stations now, do we?

Tom: Ah, the Drummer’s Lament.

Tim: This song was in the first heat, and (possibly due to the low quality of that week) got further in the competition than Dynazty did, which I think is a shame as I enjoyed that track a lot. This, I’m not sure about. The unintelligible screaming, I hate. I can’t wait for it to finish every time it starts and I wish I could get rid of the bloke in the baseball cap entirely.

Tom: Ah, but that’s how you do “Proper Metal Vocals”, isn’t it? Growl unintelligible vocals from your diaphragm.

Tim: It is, yes – but the other singing, though? I think it’s great. You can hear the key change coming a mile off, for starters, and that’s often an indication of great pop, which the decent stuff actually is – change the backing and it could be sung by any Charlotte Perrelli or Linda Bengtzing who cares to jump up on stage, really.

Tom: Which means it sits in an uncomfortable position – not a schlager song, not really a metal song. I’m surprised it got as far as it did – it’s not Lordi, after all.

Tim: Well, if you did replace it with a female singer and kept the screamy bit, you’d end up with something not unlike the closing part of the Casablanca/Malena Ernman collaboration from two years ago, which actually ended up being pretty brilliant, so that might explain it.

Tom: Casablanca’s lead singer isn’t metal-screaming there, though; it’s not that death-growl. That death-growl’s an acquired taste: for every person who goes ‘yes, proper metal in Eurovision!’ there’ll be two who go ‘ooh what’s wrong with his voice?’