RIP Music

Blimey, we think the music just died and went to Azerbaijan.

There’s obviously no need to put Baku 2013 in the heading like we have felt compelled to do in our reviews of the Azeri entries the previous two years. Because this is so sad in so many levels, we cannot even bear the thought of it coming anywhere near the winners’ podium in the Grand Final. Sure, the Azeri’s did win last year with a rather mediocre, forgettable ballad imported from Sweden, but we hope Europe is not ready to make the same mistake twice.

We were no fans of either Safura’s drip dropping tale of smelling lipstick, nor Ell & Nikki’s running on empty dirge, but still we had to recognize both its potential of being a serious contender in the race. And it might make sense for Azerbaijan to stick with the winning formula when they’ve actually managed to crack the code so quickly. But at the end of the day that’s not how it works after all, is it? Just look at what makes a really great artist stand out from the crowd and what really matters when it comes to remaining on top. It’s their ability to constantly reinvent themselves and come up with something new and different. This is where this one fails, and we genuinely hope it will be severely punished.

Rarely have we felt a stronger urge to take a metaphor more literal. It really does feel like the music is dying here. In fact it’s being murdered in cold blood by a bunch of people with too much money and too little taste. And how ironic isn’t to have the hosts singing about how the music dies when reports of human rights violations draws the attention away from the actual singing competition. Sorry for being party poopers here, but there’s hardly any worse ways to poison the party ambiance than what the important people in high places have managed very well on their own.

We get nothing out of listening to three minutes of whining about how bloody cold it is. Like we would believe that sizzling hot Sabina Babayeva has ever frozen her buttocks off waiting for endlessly delayed commuter trains on her way to work mid winter. We start thinking about frozen fish fingers from discount supermarkets and three for one bargains at the annual January sale in Oxford Street. Or perhaps more fittingly at Ikea.

Isn’t Azerbaijan the Land of Fire for crying out loud? Leave the cold stuff to the experts. We’re still wearing wool mittens and long-johns in mid May and haven’t seen the sun for longer than ten minutes since last September. The Swedes who made this, probably on an assembly line made redundant by the Saab shutdown, are having a laugh at your expense. They’d gladly continue to take your money. Just remember you’d have to sell any credibility left too.