Eurovision seeks to gain audience in the US 1:23
(CNN) -
Europe has had an absolutely miserable 14 months, thanks in large part to * points to all *.
But there is no fear: the task of animating the continent's 750 million inhabitants could not have fallen to a more suitable group: a German dancer who plays the trumpet and is dressed as the middle finger!
A singer accused of worshiping Satan!
A group of veterans of the Central and Eastern European talent shows!
And for some reason, Flo Rida!
All of them, along with dozens of other eccentrics, will be in charge of animating a region thirsty for party.
Eurovision, the world's most exaggerated and sometimes scariest contest, returns to action a year after the first cancellation in its history.
The contest may look a bit different this year, as covid-19 protocols keep the audience smaller than usual, but the leather pants, confusing lyrical choices, and signature tonal shifts define it. the most disconcerting spectacle of music are very present and do their job.
What exactly is Eurovision?
According to Portuguese contestant Pedro Tatanka, "it's about grandeur: it's a great global musical celebration."
It is a "testament to pop music and humanity," says Danish Fyr & Flamme.
Or as the Norwegian TIX tells us: “It's so weird!
You can be as extravagant as you want, and it's not only allowed, it's recommended.
Perhaps the easiest way to explain Eurovision is to say that Eurovision is Eurovision, and leave it at that.
This year's event is of special importance;
The contest is by far the largest continental-level event held in Western Europe since the pandemic began, and those involved hope it will offer both a distraction from the lockdown and a template for events this summer and beyond.
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Or, to quote a letter from Benny Cristo from the Czech Republic: "There is no apocalypse, as long as you are here on my lips."
Well said, Benny, well said.
Things can get really weird.
Credit: AFP / Getty Images / Archive
"I think people have been wanting this," Estonian contestant Uku Suviste tells CNN.
"If we succeed, and we prevent Rotterdam from exploding with covid cases, we will demonstrate not only to Europe, but to the whole world, that we can return to our normal lives."
The contestants are a mix of Europop royalty, national stars, rising artists and fading names hoping to regain some relevance.
But whatever your story, and despite this year's restrictions, everyone feels the excitement.
"I see people with masks, but I see their happy eyes," Natalia Gordienko, host of the Moldovan lottery program and 2021 contestant from the country, tells CNN.
"We are all excited," adds Vincent Bueno from Austria.
"The wait has been too long: this is our chance to shine."
'It's our Super Bowl'
For the unfamiliar, Eurovision is an annual show of glitter, dazzle and ruffled national dresses that was initially invented to promote peace after World War II.
Having freed Europe from all interstate tensions, it now serves as a medium for geopolitical pats, carefree kitsch, and disarming musical eccentricity.
There are sequins everywhere too.
In some countries, such as the UK which is considered too cool, the Eurovision approach is straightforward: singers sing, presenters make overly rehearsed casual jokes, audiences get drunk, and everyone goes home in partial dignity. intact.
But in much of the continent, it is a much more serious matter.
"I'd say it's like a national holiday," Icelandic singer Daði Freyr, who's crazy about Eurovision, tells CNN from his band's hotel room in Rotterdam.
"All the streets are empty ... If you are not watching Eurovision, what are you doing?"
"It's like the Super Bowl," adds his bandmate Hulda Kristín Kolbrúnardóttir.
They are not joking.
In the last contest, 98.4% of Icelandic viewers tuned in to the Grand Final.
In total, 182 million people across Europe watched the event, according to the European Broadcasting Union.
Freyr and Kolbrúnardóttir's group Daði og Gagnamagnið went viral with their memorable audition last year and, like most frustrated 2020 hopefuls, they try again this time.
But a positive test of covid-19 has made that, this Saturday, they have to resort to the images of the tests;
a sudden reminder of the difficulties of hosting a party in a pandemic.
Daði og Gagnamagnið from Iceland during rehearsals.
The group is one of the biggest names in Eurovision this year, but a positive covid-19 test has made their preparations in chaos.
Credit: Thomas Hanses / EBU / Eurovision
Travel regulations, meanwhile, saw Australia's participation reach the semifinals from thousands of miles away.
"It sucks," says artist Montaigne.
Newbies to Eurovision often wonder why Australia is participating, as most atlases place it some distance from Europe, but the answer is simple: many Australians get up at 4 a.m. to watch it, showing exactly the type of manic behavior that the organizers covet, so the organizing entity offered them an invitation, expanding the scope of the contest worldwide.
"There is a really passionate and dedicated fan base in the country," says Joshua Mayne, editor of the Sydney-based Eurovision website ESCDaily.
"He has this unique kind of carefree competitiveness that doesn't exist anywhere else in the world."
In Britain less passion is shown.
"The music industries in other countries thrive on Eurovision songs and acts, but this is not the case here," says British Eurovision expert Will O'Regan.
It may never be clear to what extent the truly repulsive Moldovan punk folk group Zdob și Zdub contributed to the UK's decision to vote for Brexit in 2011, but in the last minute race to close an exit deal in Last Christmas Westminster officials forgot to include a clause to withdraw the UK from the contest, so here they are, again, laughing awkwardly at inside jokes from Europe and bracing themselves for a thousandth consecutive humiliation when the votes are cast. .
Or maybe not, if your contestant James Newman is to be believed.
"If I go out there and break it at night and get the votes, I could easily win," he tells CNN from Rotterdam.
"I think we have lost contact with Eurovision a bit," he adds.
“The people who show up from other countries are big stars.
Everyone else sees it as a great opportunity.
"A lot of people think that nobody wants us to win, but we don't," says Newman.
Eurovision doesn't hate us.
Eurovision wants us to try harder.
France and Italy are the favorites this year, while Switzerland could present a challenge.
"I wanted a song that had the feeling of being in a blast," explains its contestant, Gjon's Tears.
And in his quest for votes he is touching a chord in Europe: "For my ego, that would be great," he tells us.
The other surprise favorite comes from the Mediterranean archipelago of Malta.
Destiny, their interpreter, tells CNN that it would be "special" if they succeeded.
"It would be a party, and all Maltese would be very aware (of it), because we are obsessed with Eurovision."
everything you need to know
When not rehearsing, this year's Eurovision hopefuls have been confined to their hotels, TIX says it's like "a very nice jail," with regular covid testing.
Still, the artists have left nothing to chance.
"We have shipped 160 kilos of suits here," TIX tells us.
During a rehearsal, he says that he "almost fainted" from the enormous weight of the fluffy white wings he wears while performing his ballad.
TIX is by no means the most notable individual out there, which cannot often be said of an adult who has to pay excess baggage fees at the airport to dress like an angel on a business trip.
Perhaps that honor goes to the haunting intensity and unnecessary yellow hue of Lithuanian dance group The Roop, Ukrainian goth-rockers Go_A, or reality TV veteran Efendi from Azerbaijan.
But whatever your favorite is, you can be sure that everyone will do their best.
Israel's Eden Alene is set to hit a B6, the highest note ever heard in the contest (in 1996, the current record holder, Croatian Maja Blagdan, was only able to reach an embarrassing B6-flat, a semitone lower than Alene's effort).
Although Alene's note does not compete with the vocal gymnastics of singers like Mariah Carey, it is impressive by Eurovision standards.
Meanwhile, commentators claim that Spain's giant inflatable moon could be the biggest Eurovision accessory in history.
In the intermission, the previous winners of the contest will perform, each of whom will sing on the roof of a different building in Rotterdam.
And there is a surprise.
The San Marino song "Adrenalina" inexplicably includes a verse from none other than 2009's third favorite rapper, Flo Rida.
Why is Flo Rida at Eurovision, representing a tiny 13-kilometer-long microstate in the Italian Apennines?
It's a great question.
Maybe you loved its 17 centuries of history, or maybe the “Who Dat Girl” singer hopes to follow in the footsteps of President Abraham Lincoln by becoming an honorary citizen of San Marino.
In any case, to say that the country is excited about its new partnership with Mr. Rida is an understatement;
Her performance, Senhit, appeared at rehearsals with a gigantic golden shrine of the rapper on her head, adorned with images of him and a series of cryptic question marks, and has been busy promoting the fact that he could possibly have a back there.
"He said he would be very proud to come," Senhit insisted to CNN.
"We will probably see something, or not."
And good news!
After we spoke with Senhit, it was confirmed that Flo Rida did have time on her schedule.
Slow songs about love are the most successful Eurovision formula, according to a study conducted last year, because, of course, scientists are producing scholarly research on Eurovision winners.
That should have been good news for Romanian Roxen, described by her delegation as "an artist's labyrinth, with a dreamy sound and mesmerizing voice that creates a whole new universe with every release."
Unfortunately, Europe seemed to disagree;
Roxen came out in the semifinals.
And then there is the Finnish Blind Channel.
At last, a musical act bold enough to fuse heavy metal with bubblegum pop!
They call their music "violent pop," and they tell CNN, "We weren't Eurovision fans, we didn't follow Eurovision, but then we said: Why not?"
These guys are sitting at the popular Eurovision table, and they definitely want you to know it.
The weird things
The Eurovision regulations state that "letters, speeches (or) gestures of a political nature" are prohibited, but if you believe that, I have a pair of white leather pants on sale that I can sell you.
Each year brings its own problems.
This year there has already been a religious controversy, after the Orthodox Church of Cyprus condemned the entry of the country, "The Devil", saying that it "favored our world ridicule by advocating our surrender to the devil and promoting his worship."
Although the Eurovision stage has historically been a popular forum for global ridicule, the Cyprus singer insisted that her effort was "a distinctly allegorical song!"
The stage of the Ahoy stadium in Rotterdam, which 3,500 fans and 26 hopefuls will fill on Saturday night.
Credit: Avrotros Nathan Reinds / NOS / NPO / Eurovision
Linguistic mismatches are also inevitable.
Most of the Eurovision ballads seem to be inspired by the diary entries of a preteen in love, with hackneyed cliches that are seemingly actively encouraged.
"Unchain my wings and the oceans of tears, everything fades with the sum of my years," shouts the entrance of North Macedonia.
«The bundles of tears on my hand are rusted.
I looked for you between empty hearts, and I realized that nothing seduces me », moans the contestant from Albania.
The most overtly raunchy entry for 2021 is Sugar from Moldova.
"It's not about the sugar you put in your coffee," singer Gordienko informs us.
"It symbolizes love, happiness, sex and positive vibes."
According to the official Eurovision translation, the entry for Ukraine contains the lyrics: "In the garden, sitting on a maple tree, You've been spinning a shirt ... Shum, roll up with maiden grass ... Sowing, sowing, sowing hemp plants" .
Which makes perfect sense, compared to some of the earlier entries in the Eurovision archive.
"Sunbeam, I want to touch you ... The wind blows, I want to see you ... Mountain, I want to feel you," sings the Georgian Tornike Kipiani, who seems to continue exploring the best use of his five basic senses.
But Belgium's entry may be the most appropriate summary for the Eurovision experience with its opening line: "I wake up and think: I could use another drink."
As charmingly bizarre as Eurovision is, its contestants are united in the belief that their performances mean something else this year, and given the scope of the show, they may be right.
Eurovision feels less like a contest this year.
I have a feeling of responsibility, ”says TIX.
“There are people whose past year has been truly miserable.
Many people find comfort in the Eurovision community.
"It's going to be a great night," adds Newman.
"It's going to be fun, it's an escapism ... it's a ray of hope."
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