Preppy, pretty France

Don’t know if it’s the pretty, pretty face, the hot little red thing begging to take us for a ride or our longing for old Eurovision glory. But we actually don’t hate France:

There was a time. When we didn’t hate Pavarotti that much. Then there was a time. When we absolutely hated tenors like the Il Divo gangbang and Josh Groban. Then this very moment should have been the one when we didn’t exactly enjoy Amauri Vassily and were tempted to play him on mute. Problem is, that is not happening for us.

This could be a case of corruption. You know, one of those times where we use our power as bloggers for personal gainings strongly connected to mr Vassily himself and the parties of Dusseldorf. That would at least have kept some of our integrity intact, we reckon. But no, that’s not what’s going on, and if it was, we certainly wouldn’t tell you.

GEE girls are so easily attracted into laudatory behavior it’s embarrassing sometimes. All it takes is obviously a pair of fine looking gloves, a car with just enough room for one of us (we’ll fight over that one for sure), a kinda dramatic look to the right and a loose white shirt blowing in the wind begging to be teared off and we’re all for tenors again. We’re even kinda positive towards that long hair, so often used for covering up the widow’s peaks of an approaching no hair situation.

But yeah, guess at least Amauri himself is honest. He is a good singer, even  a great one compared to say, a couple of other tenor attempts we have seen throughout the years and especially did see way too much of last year. The song is also decent in its own grandoise Christmas in Vienna kind of way. We salute that. The French after all doesn’t play pompous, preppy and stuck up, and we know there must be some serious shit going on when they go to the very dramatic step of involving Corsican.

Perhaps the strongest asset of the preppy, pretty French entry, though, is that it reminds us of the glorious Eurovision we once knew. The one where whole symphony orchestras accompanied highly skilled, decent singers. And when each Eurovision artist came with a bowing conductor. We could only wish Amauri would bring one of those to town. Then both his hard and his heart would be ours forever.

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