Eurovision Song Contest 2019: Our Flop 8

Rick: Scandinavians know the recipe for a winning ESC song, right? But what happens if you squeeze every hackneyed formal into a single song? This. KEiiNO has a female vocalist who sings off-key and a male who attempts traditional yoik singing but also misses the mark. A monotonous refrain, fire and drums are thrown in for good measure. A potpourri of bad taste.

Silke: I tried. Honestly, I did. Some songs require a little extra effort. But in this tone collage, nothing fits. Peculiar chiming and wailing vocals — is that supposed to sound like fado singing somehow? Putting a number like this on the ESC stage takes a lot of guts. Maybe that will earn it some points. But not mine.

Rick: People in the land I call my home may never forgive me for this, but somebody has to say it: The song is nice if a bit contrived, but the duo specially put together for the ESC and the material they deliver are all strategy and zero authenticity. With 41 countries participating, will this one even make it into the Top 40? I'm not so sure.

Silke: It's a love story and they wrote it themselves. But, sorry, it just doesn't grab me. They sing it in their native tongue to gentle electronic accompaniment. Nothing wrong with that. But this introverted singing gets on my nerves, and after three long minutes, I'm glad it's over.

Rick: Representing all the young women heaving out sweeping ballads underlined by grand gestures and much tossing of hair — there are several this year — Nevena Bozovic and her song titled "Crown." The 24-year-old veteran of casting shows has sat on various ESC juries, so she'd seem to be a product of the ESC machine, yet even its own website describes Serbia's entry as "playing it safe."

Silke: Too bad! To me, this is the biggest disappointment of the season! In the 90s, DJ Darude landed one of the greatest techno hits of all times, and the durability of "Sandstorm" lasts to this day. But this? A mediocre song and a mediocre singer. Sorry boys, but not even that good name will propel you beyond the semifinale.

Rick: What would Eurovision be without San Marino? Or rather: What would San Marino be without Eurovision? The country you otherwise never hear about. I think the San Marinos will persevere at the ESC until they finally win. But not this time. The title "Say Na Na Na" says it all, i.e., nothing. In a field of mediocrity, the most mediocre piece.

Silke: Serhat is actually a charismatic guy and a good crooner. Like a gallant entertainer, he moves around in his white suit amidst handsome dancers also clad in white. His voice purrs like a contented cat. But what are they trying to achieve with this shallow little pop number that has all the seriousness of a pink bouncy ball from the 90s? I say three times NO.

Rick: OK, I go to operas so I should like this one, right? Wrong. After hearing this breathy, off-pitch voice, I read that Kate Miller-Heidke is a successful operatic singer. If that means that she's making herself sound worse than she should here, there's no forgiving that. And the concept of "opera singer singing opera in an over-dimensioned dress" was lifted from Estonia's entry last year.

Silke: Attached to poles, three women in long dresses soar this way and that, high above a fog-drenched stage. The effect isn't comical, it's ridiculous. This is the setting for Kate's delivery of a pop-opera song in the upper soprano range. It's vaguely reminiscent of Mozart's Queen of the Night, but overall, it's just dreadful.