Latvia has given us some godawful entries the past few years. Nothing since 2005 has been worth listening to in our opinion. It’s even hard to single out the absolute low-point, but put on the spot it might just be that pirate song from 2008. All the while the Latvians seem not to get enough of these joke entries, we usually find them vulgar, plain and for the most part not very funny at all. And when not funny, it’s kinda pointless isn’t it?
That’s why we became extremely wary of what the Latvian had selected for us this year. We were good and ready to slash poor Anmary’s so called “Beautiful Song” into a million pieces, we didn’t even have to give it a listen. But much to our surprise we must admit we rather like it! Anmary is cute as a button and the song turns out to be an earworm of epic proportions. And if there’s one thing we’ve learned from being obsessed with Eurovision since around the year that Johnny Logan won, it’s never to underestimate a song that sticks to your brain like glue after just one listen.
On the surface it all sounds so extremely banal. It seemingly tags along the path of least resistance, which usually means it’s dry as dust, flat and forgettable. But perhaps this is where the beauty of this song lies. It might sound simple, but the theme is actually quite complex. It reminds us of some medieval folk melody, with lots of skips and jumps and swirls, bouncing happily from here to there. And it makes us think that it must be a challenging song to sing. We’re worried that it won’t sound that good live. Heaven knows the juries are merciless when it comes down to punishing those with poor vocal performances, we remember all too well Stellagate from last year.
And we were unimpressed by Anmary’s live performance in the national final, her vocal was indeed ropey. But that’s something that can be worked on, she has had time to rehearse since then, and we hope it will sound better in Baku. And at the very least she has won us over with a charming, tongue in cheek appearance. The way she playfully juggles an amusing selection of wornout cliches, including the quintessential costume change gimmick, is entertaining. And even though we do not doubt her ambitions on doing well, it’s liberating to see that she doesn’t take herself too seriously.
We think especially folks in the Nordic countries and in Britain will totally get the humour in this entry. We’re not too sure if the rest of Europe will find it equally brilliant.
So the big question remains. Will Anmary be able buy her own mike to sing in after the 26th of May?