How political is Eurovision? For years, my view has been that politics hasn’t played nearly as big a role in the contest as the British media likes to claim. It’s taken something of a battering since Sam Ryder’s sensational second place finish in 2022, but it’s still generally the consensus among Brits that the tournament’s voting system is rigged against us, principally due to our sins of Brexit and just being a little ‘different’ to our neighbours across the Channel. What most offhand remarks in support of this miss is that our current run of poor form (Space Man aside) dates back not to 2016 but to 2003, when a pitchy Jemini had the honour of being one of the few acts in Eurovision history to win no points whatsoever (James Newman would match the feat 18 years later). Before that, of course, we were a European powerhouse, winning five times and – almost unbelievable to hear today – only finishing outside the top ten three times prior to 2000. If we were the black sheep of Europe in recent decades, were we the continent’s geopolitical idols in the 80s and 90s? Or maybe the strange rule that all songs should be written and performed in a country’s native language, enforced from 1977 to 1998, played into the hands of the UK and Ireland, whose lyrics could be understood and sung by viewers all over the continent? Either way, the British fall from grace happened at the turn of the century – it’s up to you to pick your political development to attribute that to. On the other extreme, Ukraine’s exceptional performance in recent decades can’t simply be down to the war – they won and came second twice prior to the Crimean occupation – although it’s hard to claim the freshness of the full scale invasion didn’t fuel the massive televote that propelled Kalush Orchestra past our Sam to victory two years ago. And yes, there is a trend of ‘bloc voting’, but many commentators miss the fact that neighbouring countries who share similar music tastes and languages might quite reasonably like each other’s songs.
And yet, in recent years, the debate around politics in Eurovision has become stickier and less easy to bat away as deluded excuses for sending a man with a leather jacket and giant trumpet and expecting him to storm the thing. Apoliticism is of course part of Eurovision’s DNA. The contest was created as an explicit (and in my view, generally successful) attempt to bring a politically divided post-war Europe back together. Political messaging in songs is strictly forbidden, and Eurovision history is full of occasions where entrants have been denied a chance to make a political statement, with a few questionable songs slipping through the net. But in 2022, Russia crossed a line, and in the unprecedented circumstance of one Eurovision entrant invading another, Russia was banned just a day after troops crossed the Ukrainian border, understandably breaking their apolitical policy to avoid “bringing the contest into disrepute”. Ahead of the 2024 contest, the European Broadcasting Union have an even bigger headache: should Israel be banished from the party too? Of course, Palestine was never invited in the first place, and the 2019 Icelandic entrants Hatari got a fine just for flying the Palestinian flag on air during the grand final. The EBU’s decision was initially made a little easier by the apparent political nature of this year’s Israeli entry, ominously titled October Rain, which they ordered to be rewritten. But the less explicit edit, now called Hurricane, has been accepted, and calls for a boycott are growing. The EBU, for their part, have emphasised that the decision is less about moral judgement on governments but about how well the respective broadcasters have followed the rules. “The relationship between Kan [Israeli broadcaster] and the Israeli government is fundamentally different to the relationship that exists between those Russian members and the state, with the Israeli government in recent years threatening to close down the broadcaster,” an EBU spokesperson said in February. As much as I may argue a good song is a much better way to win Eurovision than amiable politics, the fact is Israel’s appearance in Malmö, presumably to be presented no differently to any other nation, has very real PR implications. It’s no wonder that Israeli President, Isaac Herzog, insisted on changing the lyrics in order to be accepted to the contest after Kan initially refused. 162 million people watched the last edition of the contest. Perhaps it’s inevitable a country as existentially dependent on the support of others like Israel will see this as a golden marketing opportunity.
Geopolitical messes aside, it has to be said this year’s Eurovision buildup has thus far not been as exciting as recent years (see: Blanco having a tantrum at Sanremo, and Blanka’s (no relation) alleged vote rigging on the way to victory… of the Polish national selection show). Deriving a theme from nearly 40 songs as diverse as the continent that made them is always difficult, but there does seem to be a trend towards loud and silly ‘hyperpop’ moments. Cases in point: Finland and the Netherlands plus Croatia, Austria and Spain, all of whom are clearly gunning for the popular vote. The number of offerings with a genuine sense of class – generally favoured by the jury vote and, for the most part, Undertone – is worryingly slim, although all the chaos makes France’s very France-ish piano ballad a much-needed tonic, and ballad-loving Portugal might take advantage of the situation too. It’s Switzerland and Eurovision pros Italy that lead the way artistically, though, followed by a very respectable British entry and a loveable return for Luxembourg. For now, the 2024 contest seems in a perilous state of chaos, musically and politically. It remains to be seen how “United by Music” Europe will really be come May.
A note on this list
As usual, I’ve added a “Bookies’ rank” and “Fan’s rank” to each song. The bookies’ rank is taken from the average odds according to eurovisionworld.com, which ranks songs based only on how likely they are to win. The fan’s rank comes from the My Eurovision Scoreboard app, which appears to be the biggest survey of fan opinions and ranks songs based on simple preference. These stats are correct as of 11/4/24. The archetypes beside each song (“the nil pointer”, “the critics’ choice”, etc.) are entirely my own, and some are more dubious than others. I also have to cite the wonderful YouTube series Overthinking Eurovision for many of the factoids and context on the longer reviews in this list. The channel is a must watch for any budding Euro nerd.
37. Iceland
Scared of Heights by Hera Björk
| Bookies 29th Fans 36th |
Distinctly uninspired Scared of Heights has much the same bland pop sound as Denmark’s Sand, only with a slightly weaker set of lyrics, including the head-scratcher “Don’t need another heart shaped bruise”. It’s the sort of middle-of-the-road track that’s difficult to find anything compelling to write home about. The best I can say is it sounds a lot like James Newman’s Embers for the UK in 2021, but that surely doesn’t bode well. Perhaps the chirpy up-tempo beat will soundtrack a few school discos in Reykjavik, but otherwise Scared of Heights looks likely to be forgotten very soon after this year’s contest is wrapped up.
36. Germany
Always on the Run by Isaak
| Bookies 26th Fans 31st | The nil pointer |
It’s another sigh-inducing entry from Germany, whose potential Sam Ryder flash of brilliance (Ben Dolic’s foot-tapper Violent Thing) unfortunately coincided with the pandemic. Isaak’s Lewis Capaldi impression is painfully derivative, and he seems to have run out of lyric ideas by the first chorus. It’s inoffensive to a fault, but at least it’s better than the smug ukulele song called I Don’t Feel Hate they submitted a few years ago which was, frankly, offensive to all music lovers.
35. Austria
We Will Rave by Kaleen
| Bookies 12th Fans 9th |
Kaleen is determined to rave. That’s about the start and end of the lyrical content on this overrated track that ticks most boxes of what your average Eurovision detractor deems every entry to sound like. There’s plenty of nonsensical “ram-di-dam-dam-da” to fill out the lyrics, plus a horribly dated synth hook so trite it wouldn’t even have sounded good in the noughties. A drum ‘n’ bass style beat does add a frisson of style to the bridge, but it’s short lived. Austria entered a similar, leagues better rave-ready dance track in 2022 only to be palmed off at the semis. If there’s any justice in this world, this dud will suffer the same fate – although the initial chatter amongst the Eurofans suggests otherwise.
34. Malta
Loop by Sarah Bonnici
| Bookies 37th Fans 29th |
Loop is even more indebted to Spain’s sultry hit from 2022 SloMo than Cyprus’ Liar, and is another sexy, heavily choreographed pop number, this time minus the solid songwriting foundations, exquisite bass line and element of surprise of the 2022 bronze medallist. The dance break in particular, burdened with the same annoying percussion stabs that Chanel used to punctuate her own choreo, is a criminal rip-off. Eurovision voters aren’t stupid, and a song as uninspired as Loop looks unlikely to succeed. A non-qualification will be proof that writing a successful entry involves more creativity than just copying what’s trendy.
33. Georgia
Firefighter by Nutsa Buzaladze
| Bookies 18th Fans 18th |
Nutsa Buzaladze fights with an apparently inflamed and malfunctioning drum machine on Firefighter, a song that tries to tick a lot of boxes – Latin-inspired dance, empowered electropop, nasty distorted electronica, even a strings-endowed bridge – without quite nailing any of them. Any promising hook gets lost in the sonic conflagration, and a passage featuring sirens in the middle of the song feels particularly messy. Still, kudos for the (probably unintentional) Rise Like a Phoenix reference in the lyrics.
32. San Marino
11:11 by Megara
| Bookies 35th Fans 33rd |
Well, at least it’s better than the last two San Marinan efforts, but Achille Lauro’s embarrassing Stripper and Piqued Jacks’ dreadful Like an Animal are very low bars to surpass. 11:11 succeeds in delivering the bare minimum for a rock entry: a reasonable chord progression, a suitably punky and confident vocalist, a lack of lyrics about smelling and hunting down women (although this year San Marino have made the wise choice of singing entirely in Italian, so that’s a moot point). The problem is that Megara’s chorus is otherwise weak, sounding like a Paramore track minus the anthemic melodies and interesting grooves. A bridge involving a flamenco-style acoustic guitar solo of all things is one of the most creative choices San Marino have made in years. With the favourable running order in semi-final two (San Marino are the penultimate act), a fourth qualification in San Marino’s history wouldn’t be outrageous.
31. Ireland
Doomsday Blue by Bambie Thug
| Bookies 9th Fans 22nd | The one your mum won’t like |
Someone should check up on Ireland. After a long string of variously uninspired, unanimously unsuccessful pop entries, the Irish have thrown caution to the wind with deeply unhinged goth act Bambie Thug, who will at the very least be unlike anything else at the contest – a good starting point for a successful entry. Unfortunately, the song itself is a hot mess, with Bambie jumping from yelped racket-making to asinine soft pop with no attempt at a transition whatsoever. The computerised voices delivering witchy lines like “when you sleep you’ll hear the sound!” are presumably supposed to be menacing, but just come off silly and contrived. As a song it makes no sense and there isn’t much of a chorus to speak of. There is at least a promising final 30 seconds, with Bambie at last diving into the earthy metal riffs that seem best suited to the sense of foreboding they are trying to convey, but it’s a slim reward for a baffling listen. Points for trying this year, though.
30. Croatia
Rim Tim Tagi Dim by Baby Lasagna
| Bookies 2nd Fans 3rd | The headline-grabber |
Alas, every good Eurovision season needs its antagonist. Many will disagree, but for me Rim Tim Tagi Dim, a gimmicky hard rock song, will be the villain climbing up this year’s leaderboard at the expense of more substantial and worthy songs. There’s no denying that opening drum fill and grungy groove have genuine bite, but the short, static riff is repeated ad nauseum throughout almost the entire song. A cliché ‘rock anthem’ chorus sounds heavily inspired by the chorus that took Finland’s Eurovision rock pioneers Lordi to victory in 2006, but this four-chord loop and “woah-oh” backing vocals feel crass, as do the spoken word verses. The bizarre techno bridge is at least a genuine surprise, even if it sounds totally out of place in the song. And yet, at the time of writing Croatia are amongst the favourites to win the contest. A song that’s difficult to ignore, Rim Tim Tagi Dim is quite likely to win the popular vote. Let’s just hope the juries come to our rescue.
29. Sweden
Unforgettable by Marcus & Martinus
| Bookies 16th Fans 12th |
It’s an inapt title for this winner of a dud year at Melodifestivalen, which follows Loreen’s lyrically dubious “you’re stuck on me like a tattoo” with gems about a lover who’s going to “chew you up”, “spit you out” and “hurt you bad, but it feels so good,” all of which the duo inform you in the first verse but helpfully reiterate in the second verse just in case you’ve forgotten. At least the techno chorus, delivered with a punchy mix, is beyond the realms of your average charting pop song, but only just – it really is just five rising notes, and I’d take the emotional weight of a good Fred Again hook over this any day. It’s a well polished track and will be competently performed, but that really is the bare minimum requirement for a Swedish entry. A middling result would be deserved.
28. Australia
One Mikali (One Blood) by Electric Fields
| Bookies 27th Fans 32nd | The linguistic oddity |
Australia, who debuted at the contest so strongly in 2015, continue a rough patch with the cheesy pop of One Milkali, which is the first and quite possibly last Eurovision song to feature the Aboriginal Yankunytjatjara language. The vocal performance is irritatingly nasally, and the hackneyed ‘spiritual’ English lyrics and ordinary instrumental make for a disappointingly mundane track, not helped by an uncomfortable music video which involves the apparently naked band members staring into the camera for three minutes straight. By the end the duo has to resort to throwing a redundant didgeridoo into the mix just to keep us awake – perhaps the Australians were bound to do it eventually. Let’s hope they haven’t spent too much on the flights to Sweden.
27. Latvia
Hollow by Dons
| Bookies 25th Fans 35th |
Say what you like about Hozier’s 2014 hit Take Me to Church, it’s hard to deny it has been remarkably influential. Hollow is a case in point, which even mentions some of the Irish artist’s favourite themes in preachers and graves, and features the same gravelly, over-sung vocals on the chorus that are supposed to convey emotion but induce a headache after too much listening. On a more positive note, the lyrics are unusually ripe for analysis, and a brief splash of gospel choir backings add some needed drama to the finale. Still, when it comes to this year’s big-crescendo male ballad, Belgium (my number three) is the clear frontrunner.
26. Slovenia
Veronika by Raiven
| Bookies 19th Fans 16th |
Veronika is the sort of overengineered track that crops up at Eurovision every year, with plenty of high-budget instrumentation but no strong melody to match. The rather one-note chorus in Veronika takes some effort to commit to memory, and the emotion of the orchestra and tribal drums only feels surface-deep.
25. Denmark
Sand by Saba
| Bookies 22nd Fans 25th |
Denmark have the sort of entry the UK have a habit of sending – that is, safe and derivative pop that comes and goes without offering much of a reason to listen again, complete with a lazy “ooh-ooh-ooh” hook. A quiet mid-table finish would be justified.
24. The Netherlands
Europapa by Joost Klein
| Bookies 3rd Fans 5th | The meme machine |
The opening call of “Europe, come together! It’s now or never, I love you all!” should be enough to indicate that Joost Klein’s Eurovision entry is deliberately inane and silly. He plays a sort of Dutch Oliver Tree (complete with bowl cut and ludicrous fashion choices) on this marmite Eurodance track, which gets a rough start when he puts on an obnoxiously imbecilic voice for the first rap verse. The chorus, however, is unbelievably catchy, but whether the resulting earworm is a good thing or hugely annoying will depend on the listener. A welcome final switch to 100 gecs-style blaring hyperpop is ripe for an extended dance break but Europapa ultimately feels limited and unfunny.
23. Estonia
(Nendest) narkootikumidest ei tea me (küll) midagi by 5miinust & Puuluup
| Bookies 21st Fans 21st | The shouty folk one |
Estonia have stepped up this year to fill the time-honoured Eurovision role of the “weird, wacky folk one”, a distinction which should see them safely through the final, if not quite the top 10. This folk number also has a considerable dance influence and a pulsating drum beat that seems purpose built to get the mini flags in the Malmö crowd fluttering in earnest. It’s a shame then that the hook is an unmemorable yelp into the microphone. The ingredients for a bona fide Baltic banger are all there, but a half decent earworm is what this track desperately needs to make it a genuine contender for the trophy.
22. Finland
No Rules! by Windows95Man
| Bookies 15th Fans 28th |
You can tell a lot about a person from their gut reaction to No Rules!. It starts with a passionately delivered spoken word passage: “Welcome. My name is Windows, Windows95Man and I only live by one rule, and the rule is,” you guessed it, “no rules!”. Cue chirpy Eurodance synths pulled straight out a noughties Helsinki nightclub, plus a flurry of electronic drum fills. Whether you’ll find the remaining two and a half minutes pure hilarity or purgatory will depend on your tolerance for unadulterated silliness, as well as if you’re the right age to feel nostalgic for obsolete operating system software. That’s not to say there aren’t genuine musical critiques to be made: the uninteresting chorus melody ruins a golden chance to create a truly pernicious earworm and the growled verses make for tedious listening and read as a cheap attempt to emulate the success of Finnish nu-metal phenom Käärijä from last year. Nonetheless, the harmonies in the bridge are sugary sweet before one of the most predictable and unapologetic key changes in Eurovision history. It’s also hard to criticise a song with a lyric as glorious as “call me what you may / See if I care, see me slay”. It’s a year with unusually tough competition for the televote-storming joke song (a contest Finland soundly won last year), and Finland have a job on their hands to out-silly Joost Klein of the Netherlands.
21. Lithuania
Luktelk by Silvester Belt
| Bookies 14th Fans 7th |
Luktelk has a heavy techno groove but little more, and Silvester Belt’s melodies have a habit of making it seem like a good hook is just around the corner without ever actually delivering it. The sonic palette is relatively interesting, but Luktelk is ultimately thrill-free, especially when it comes to Belt’s disinterested vocal performance.
20. Moldova
In the Middle by Natalia Barbu
| Bookies 36th Fans 37th | The artistic statement |
In the Middle comes pre-packaged with an eye-catching Eurovision staging gimmick: five doppelganger singers, two mics and a violin each, with bows sticking out oddly from their backs for most of the song. When the violins do eventually come into play they sound plastic and jarring, but the rest of the song is listenable and atmospheric. Barbu’s folky vocalisations in the chorus are also strong – the obligatory falsetto in the finale less so. The static staging at the national final is a worry for Malmö, even if it is relevant to the supposed subject matter of a female statue.
19. Spain
Zorra by Nublossa
| Bookies 20th Fans 14th |
Spain have a hyper-glossy disco pop number this year, jacked up with countless synths and more showy drum fills than you can shake a disco finger at. It’s a pleasant and playful palette, but Nebulossa’s chorus is limp and forgettable and there’s little build or development in the chorus. Still, it’s the sort of unapologetically fabulous Eurovision entry that can rightly expect plenty of televotes.
18. Serbia
Ramonda by Teya Dora
| Bookies 23rd Fans 14th |
It’s easy to see Serbia’s forgettable Ramonda slipping away quietly in the semis. For a Eurovision song, it takes a while to get to the point, and when it does the chorus is pretty but somewhat restrained. It briefly turns up the drama in the second half, but ultimately Ramonda feels a little too ponderous and non-committal to shine in a cutthroat song competition.
17. Czechia
Pedestal by Aiko
| Bookies 32nd Fans 24th |
Pedestal is the sort of good but not great punk track that could very easily fall by the wayside in the semis. It sports perhaps the best bass tone since Zitti e Buoni and a solid hook, even if the chorus does lean towards boilerplate indie. What it lacks is any of the Italian song’s pyrotechnic-ready theatricality or a big build – the final thirty seconds of Eurovision’s mandated three minutes are unwisely left unused. More importantly, Aiko’s breathless and pitchy pre-season vocal performances have been dismaying to say the least. Some long hours with a vocal coach, and Pedestal could shape up as one of the better tracks of the year.
16. Albania
Titan by Besa
| Bookies 31st Fans 34th |
Albania’s four-chorder is hamstrung by dreadfully overwrought vocal production which leaves Besa sounding robotic from the very first note, but there are some decent hooks to be found further into the track. An a capella breakdown is also a shrewd move before a remarkable switch to a double-speed tempo in the final 30 seconds which hints at the dance pop banger this song could have been had Besa gone all in with the faster tempo.
15. Portugal
Grito by Iolanda
| Bookies 34th Fans 27th |
Portugal deserve credit for being the perhaps the most stylistically consistent country at Eurovision, at least since I started properly following the contest ten years ago. Grito is another humble, largely understated acoustic ballad, albeit with a touch more orchestration than Portuguese entries are usually accustomed to. It’s as artful and nuanced as ever, although Grito lacks the exquisite beauty and intimacy of something like Amar pelos dois or Saudade, saudade.
14. Greece
Zari by Marina Satti
| Bookies 8th Fans 4th |
“I’m gonna do it my way,” Marina Satti tells us in a stray line of English in this wild, aggressively modern track. Her unapologetic vocal delivery and the stuttering drum groove – oppressively heavy in the mix – recalls Rosalía, whereas the folk instruments which power the track (an evocative bagpipe-sounding zurna) bring memories of Manizha’s remarkable Russian Woman, which was a final flourish of artistic defiance before Russia’s banning. Zari is an impressively self-assured, oddball composition. It lacks a decent hook, but that makes it a no less interesting (and strangely danceable) listen that will no doubt stand out from the pack in Malmö.
13. France
Mon Amour by Slimane
| Bookies 6th Fans 11th | The big ballad |
Mon Amour is a middling piano ballad from Slimane, a French domestic megastar who seems internally selected just as much for his potential to revive ratings in France than his shot at winning (after all, for all Slimane’s popularity at home, France is the only country that can’t vote for France). It’s a song that gets better with repeat listens, and after hearing the likes of Finland or Croatia it sounds like a remarkably classy masterpiece. That it is not – one of the few disadvantages of taking French lessons more seriously this year is that I can start to comprehend Mon Amour’s lyrics of anonymous heartache, blatantly engineered to be vaguely relatable for as many (French-speaking) listeners as possible. The vocal performance is solid if melodramatic, Slimane veering dangerously close to drunken hollering in the song’s climax. With a favourable running order France could do well, but that’s as much an indication of this cohort’s weaknesses than Mon Amour’s strengths.
12. Cyprus
Liar by Silia Kapsis
| Bookies 24th Fans 20th | The pop diva moment |
Liar starts with a Euphoria style electronic foghorn, which ends up rather overselling this unexciting but perfectly palatable chart-ready pop track. 17-year-old Kapsis’s chorus is catchy, and the drum beat should have no problem in getting Eurovision audiences frugging away in the crowd. There is, as seems to be the trend in this sort of song since Chanel almost won the contest in 2021, a superfluous dance break as the bridge, where the mix gets messy, the songwriters apparently unable to pick between production decisions and instead going for all of them at once: sirens, beat switches, brass stabs, big backing vocals. It’s a pale imitation of Chanel’s SloMo for Spain, but it at least trumps a more egregious ripoff from Malta.
11. Azerbaijan
Özünlə apar by Fahree & Ilkin Dovlatov
| Bookies 30th Fans 30th |
It’s a modest uptick in form for Azerbaijan, who are yet to regain the unprecedented highs they hit from 2009 to 2013, when they finished in the top five every single year, including a victory in 2011 for Running Scared (by far the weakest winning song of the decade, but that’s besides the point). Özünlə apar is unlikely to do quite that well, but it’s a respectable, atmospheric pop track which picks a simple vocal hook and rolls with it. The strings are tasteful, and a well-timed burst of ethnic warbles at the climax pushes the same emotional buttons Jamala used all the way to the title in 2016. Unshowy Özünlə apar seems to have gone under the radar in the buildup to Malmö, but this song deserves a place in the final without doubt.
10. Israel
Hurricane by Eden Golan
| Bookies 7th Fans 15th | The pre-season controversy |
For all the problematic origins of Hurricane’s lyrics and the PR implications of inviting Israel to the Eurovision party, it’s important to remember this is not the Eurovision Government Contest, but a song competition. 20-year-old Israeli singer Eden Golan is undeniably in an extremely unenviable position at the centre of a fierce debate, and she will have a job on her hands not to get swept up in all the media fervour and instead focus on singing a pop song well. The song itself, now stripped of even the most oblique references to the Gaza conflict, is actually quite good, with a strong, soaring chorus over an albeit bland backing. Golan’s vocals are also impressively assured, especially in the final chorus where she launches into her upper register with apparent ease. That said, such vocal swagger is common at Eurovision – the real test will be if, unlike so many before her, she can pull it off convincingly in a live performance. How well will Hurricane fare in the competition? I lack the necessary geopolitics degree to make that judgement call.
9. United Kingdom
Dizzy by Olly Alexander
| Bookies 13th Fans 17th |
Judging your own country’s Eurovision hopes is always tricky and I have a bad track record. I wrote there was “genuinely a lot to get excited about” with Mae Muller’s I Wrote a Song and had the generosity to call James Newman’s Embers “good pap”, only for both to slump to shockingly poor finishes (admittedly partly a result of poor performances on the night). And yet, Dizzy, the third UK entry in a row I’ve ranked my ninth favourite of the year, is genuinely a strong entry. Is there anything actually different about this year’s British effort? For starters, we have a star name Olly Alexander who may already have a strong following in Europe but more importantly has the big stage experience to avoid the performance wobbles that befell Muller last year. Of course, the song is typically British in its aversion to do anything really daring – it may be a while yet until we hear something akin to the weirdness of this year’s Greek and Dutch songs, although maybe that’s a good thing considering Ireland’s attempt at shock factor this year – but Dizzy doesn’t sound strictly derivative either. Alexander’s bubbling synths succeed in sounding appealingly retro rather than outdated and the hook is one of our finest earworms in recent years, even if the whole song takes very heavy inspiration from the Pet Shop Boys’ It’s a Sin. The verses and bridge end up sounding like time-filling afterthoughts, but a breakdown before the climactic high note should translate well into an arena setting. There are more exciting songs in the contest this year, but Dizzy is a sensible, dependable composition in a year of divisive joke songs. At the very least, the choice of seasoned professional Olly Alexander seems like a shrewd way to learn from James and Mae’s slip ups.
8. Poland
The Tower by Luna
| Bookies 28th Fans 26th |
Poland’s catchy The Tower will inject a welcome shot of up-tempo pop to this year’s contest. It’s nothing revolutionary, but LUNA’s melody is pleasingly crafted, and the music video promises some classic Eurovision stand-on-a-podium-and-get-pulled-around-by-ropes theatrics. Keep an eye on them.
7. Ukraine
Teresa & Maria by Alyona Alyona & Jerry Heil
| Bookies 5th Fans 8th |
Folk music has a tendency to bring people together and promote national unity in times of crisis, and it’s no wonder that Ukraine have continued their successful strategy of mixing haunting folk melodies with a modern sonic palette. Teresa & Maria further cements their status as experts in the art of genre blending, with former nursery teacher Alyona Alyona’s rap verse bookended by a haunting, timeless melodic earworm. However, it does get a little repetitive and the development of the song is minimal – perhaps this is one composition that really could have benefited from an extra minute (not allowed under strict Eurovision rules) to expand on its ideas. Teresa & Maria lacks the heartbreaking emotional intensity of 1944 or Stefania, but it’s still a moving listen and has been hotly tipped ahead of the contest. Excellent staging may be the final piece of the puzzle that could see Ukraine taking their third win in eight years.
6. Armenia
Jako by Ladaniva
| Bookies 17th Fans 19th |
Jako is one of the most irresistibly fun folk tunes at Eurovision that I can remember. Unlike many previous folk entries, the song doesn’t need to dive into silliness of dancing grannies or milk-churning Poles to deliver a good time – all Jako needs is a fabulously catchy chorus which will excite music nerds with its unusual groove that sits in the liminal space between two and three beats to the bar. Granted, the song is basically just that hook, and verses serve to fill time, but what a fantastically interesting hook it is, delivered by Europe’s hardest working trumpeter/whistle player/ukulelist, plus a restless bass guitar. A call and response bridge should also be lapped up by the Malmö crowd. Those searching for ethnic artistry after harrowing experiences with Finland and Croatia’s entries this year, look no further.
5. Luxembourg
Fighter by Tali
| Bookies 33rd Fans 23rd |
31 years after quitting the tournament following a string of poor results and rising participation costs, Luxembourg are back. They may be a tiny European country with a population smaller than Sheffield, but Luxembourg are not to be sniffed at as a formidable Eurovision force – they’ve won the contest five times, the same number as the UK, France and the Netherlands. Part of that remarkable success seems down to their habit of hiring out starry foreign songwriters, using funds readily available to the richest country on the continent per capita. Indeed, almost every artist in this year’s impressive Luxembourg Song Contest was compelled by the broadcaster to abandon their own songs and sing songs written by French, Swedish and Norwegian songwriters. It must have been an off-putting switch for folksy singer-songwriter Tali, who was handed a latex bodysuit and blocky high heels and called upon to deliver the goods on Fighter, a smartly written up-tempo pop number with a pummeling dance groove. To her credit, Tali performs Fighter convincingly (save for some non-committal dance moves during the national final), and lyrics about dealing with rejection early on in a music career seem perfect for a young pop upstart catapulted to the big stage at the age of 23. It’s the catchy, intelligently composed pop song most people dismiss as commercialised and inauthentic when Sweden enter such songs year after year. But, in a year where Sweden may have slipped up with their entry, there’s certainly a place for a rock-solid pop song at Malmö.
4. Norway
Ulveham by Gåte
| Bookies 11th Fans 10th | The heavy metal one |
Norway have one of the best metal entries of recent years on their hands with Ulveham, a folky tempest that builds powerfully. Gunnhild Sundli delivers a standout vocal performance, belting out a chorus (using the traditional kulokk or ‘cattle call’ technique) with a primal urgency. A hulking bass guitar washes in and out, sometimes leaving Sundli’s voice proudly alone, other times crashing into the mix like a tidal wave against rocks. Given a decent performance in Malmö– intense strobe lighting is a must – Norway look likely to have the metalhead vote in the bag.
3. Belgium
Before the Party’s Over by Mustii
| Bookies 10th Fans 6th | The dark horse |
Before the Party’s Over is a grand, no expenses spared orchestral pop track destined for the final. Strings glisten over the languorous first chorus, setting the scene for a genuinely thrilling climax. Mustii’s chanted promise to “make moves” and “raise roofs tonight” will only be more electrifying when delivered on the most important night of all (at least as far as I’m concerned). The final chorus lands with a huge backing choir, a wall of strings and even a rousing brass section – all that’s holding it back from cinematic bliss is Mustii’s repetitive belting of the title. The whole thing, especially that expansive finale, is blatantly melodramatic, but who cares when the core songwriting is this good.
2. Switzerland
The Code by Nemo
| Bookies 1st Fans 2nd | The critics’ choice |
No prizes for guessing what the “code” Nemo keeps referring to is – The Code is a clever song about wrangling with (and eventually leaving behind) the gender binary from the first non-binary Eurovision contestant to have a genuine chance of winning. It’s a brilliantly composed pop masterclass, delivering rap verses, operatic pre-choruses and a stellar drum ‘n’ bass groove all with aplomb, topped by one of the most moving choruses of the year. What makes The Code so special is that Nemo’s vocal performance fittingly includes the typical strengths of both male and female singers, from the macho verve of an Eminem-style rap verse to some truly awe-inspiring operatic soprano as the orchestral drama ramps up. That said, to divvy up Nemo’s performance into male and female sections is to miss the point entirely; The Code is a song about Nemo being entirely themselves, free of any preconceptions of gender and ready to dive into all the various extraordinary talents of this performer. “Like ammonites / I just gave it some time,” Nemo rasps on the chorus, and you can feel the true weight of their quiet and lonely struggle as the strings swell and drums rattle. Should Nemo’s stage offering match the exceptional quality of their song, they could be looking at a breakthrough Eurovision victory of Conchita Wurst proportions.
1. Italy
La noia by Angelina Mango
| Bookies 4th Fans 1st |
Italy’s entry was the first I heard of the 2024 cohort back in February, and I remember a faint sadness as I reached the end of my maiden listen. Surely of all the songs yet to be released, none could top La noia. Indeed, only Switzerland’s entry has made me second guess my decision of putting the fabulously named Angelina Mango at the top of the list. La noia is a bombastic blast of glorious ideas and inventive instrumentation, delivered with exquisite nonchalance from a singer who seems likely to deliver a knockout rendition in Malmö as she did at Sanremo. It’s a track with interest at every corner and an attention to detail that makes every listen reveal new delights. It turns from a very good song into a truly great one in the genius bridge – Mango’s thrilling a capella passage and subsequent riotous chorus sounds ready made for confetti cannons during a victorious encore. If Switzerland’s Nemo doesn’t soar to the 2024 title please, Eurovision gods, let it be Mango.
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