Sal has well-moisturised Italian uncle energy. He’s still winking at waitresses and gyrating like it’s 1978, but that really doesn’t matter. This is heritage disco preserved in olive oil and handed down the generations. The lyrics have a real wedding-vows-meets-Studio-54 energy. Romantic, maybe, but also a bit like sending your crush 47 WhatsApp messages after midnight. Not what I expected from Italy: I ordered the lobster linguine, but the waiter’s brought me pasta al pomodor and I’m going to enjoy every bite of it regardless.
6/10 Verdict: Dated disco fun which won’t set the scoreboard alight.
We’ve all been there, haven’t we? Three days on Duolingo and suddenly you think you’re Kraftwerk. The opening verse plays out like the exit-interview you’ve longed to give HR ever since you took up your current day job, set to a Casio keyboard. Imagine Damon Albarn in a jumpsuit dropping the most aggressive cockney slang ever witnessed at Eurovision. The roly poly with custard line is inspired, but as a whole, it’s all just a bit pony. With a chorus that sounds like a cross between your GCSE German oral and last night’s Just Eat order, you have to accept this for what it is: a bit of fun which gets everyone jumping in the arena, then sinks without trace in the voting.
Verdict: 5/10 - Perhaps the hook will seduce Deustschland into handing over a few sympathy votes.
Operatic Eurovision entries have a long tradition and there is no question that this song is a great vehicle for Monroe’s incredible voice. With a vibrato that could power Eiffel Tower for a long weekend, Monroe warbles that ‘Love strikes you like lightning’, which is probably why the bridge at the end feels like being tasered by a tenor. This will surely stun the juries, so little wonder that it is talked about as a potential winner. It’s enjoyable enough, but for me it feels like a conscious attempt to recreate the recipe used by last year’s winner, and for that reason I’m not totally into it.
Verdict: 6/10 - Classy and accomplished but feels derivative of former glories.
Rather obvious imitation of Eleni Foureira’s 2018 entry. This feels like an unbranded copy of Fuego you found in the middle aisle at Lidl. How devilishly clever of them to disguise it using the title Fire instead. She certainly won’t need to fake it till she makes it, as the production team have already got that base well and truly covered. All this is not to say it isn’t enjoyable, which of course, it is, and her online following will give it a fair wind. But all the sultry pouting, thrusting dance moves and pyrotechnics in the world won’t stop this fire going cold. Like that knock-off Rolex you bought in Maspalomas, this will stop working the day after you get home with it.
Verdict: 5/10 - All vampire, no soul.
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