Round-up EU having a laugh? The Great Big Eurovision guide

On those lonely nights, do you ever wonder what it would be like if Ellie Goulding dipped her toe into consumable Euro-pop? No? Fine then, but let us show you what it would be like anyway. Handily, Nina Kraljic’s ‘Lighthouse’ is what we’ve got for you and boy, is it a corker.

With more nautical themes (and, oddly, some Gaelic panpipes) than you could shake a whale at, Kraljic’s entry for King’s Landing Croatia isn’t shy of using an ostensibly catchy hook or two– a notion that millions (no, really) of people seem to agree with.

Predictably, the song is peppered with plenty of references to finding a light: “I know that I’ll find your / your lighthouse / your lighthouse / your lighthouse / your lighthouse / your lighthouse”, but it seems – srsly – that Croatia could be in with a chance of finally nipping that cheeky Eurovision in the bud with a song that has a low-key affability to it. Try to ignore those drops of water in the background and you’ll have a three-minute reminder of what Croatia does best: unassuming brilliance. (Ed Cooper)

There are songs, and there are SONGS. This is the latter for sure; an absolute titan of a track with the mystical effect of making anyone in a ten metre radius shout “TUUUUNE!”. And to think this is to be played at Eurovision – it’s the equivalent of the thought that just a few years ago Jamie Vardy was playing at Fleetwood Town – it’s just literally out of the league of everything else around it.

Starting off with a sweet little acapella from Laura Tesoro, the Belgian instructs the band to ‘hit it’ like some sort of General Commander of Bangers, and suddenly a pop-perfect squadron of funky guitars, a bassline that’s like an even funkier ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ and a massive 90s pop group drums march in. It’s sassy as fuck, and is sure to get even the most reserved folk discarding their hatred for Eurovision and bopping along. If this doesn’t win, then basically everything is wrong in the world and no one knows anything about anything. (Kyle MacNeill)

Azerbaijan; where the East meets the West, the Land of Fire (apparently) and also, the land of absolute bangers. Bringing the national dance move of Azerbaijan, the air-grab, to Eurovision this year is Samra with ‘Miracle’. This is a slice of good old-fashioned pop with a modern twist so powerful it’ll have Eurovision guest performer Justin Timberlake hanging up his microphone and going back to focusing full time on his MySpace re-launch.

Okay, so it’s not that good. But Samra, like a sort of Azerbaijaneeze (is that a word?) fusion of Sia and Lorde, knows how to put together a crowd pleaser. With funky synths, huge choruses and a simple structure that will have you singing along way before the first listen is even over (an absolute Eurovision must), Samra’s got her eyes on the prize. Add in the fact that she rather charmingly doesn’t seem to know what to do with herself behind a microphone, other than re-enact the kind of top-notch cheesy power-moves you’d see in a 6th form talent show, and we’re on to a winner here. Whatever the maximum number of points is to Samra, please (that’ll be 12 points, then - Ed). (Henry Boon)

When you think about it, it’s no surprise most countries bloody hate voting for us at Eurovision. First of all, the United Kingdom – a privileged member of a group rather boastfully named ‘The Big Five’ – gets a free pass to swan straight through to the finals, every single year. Secondly, we’ve been behaving like total arseholes lately, blathering on about Brexit all the time. Very ungrateful. The key element to the United Kingdom’s ensuing talent for failure, though? Our entries are consistently and categorically shit. Year in, year out.

Our latest flailing attempt at clawing back dignity is called ‘You’re Not Alone,’ and ironically, it’ll probably be the song to leave the UK isolated and miserable in last place. It’s about as much fun as being slapped across the face with a slowly rotting trout. Joe and Jake leap across the stage with painful amounts of sincerity, but behind the blankly forced smiles, and glazed-over eyes, there is only fear and regret. As Joe and Jake sing “we’re all in this together,” they already know they’ve fucked it. Mentally, they’re already picturing the humiliating moment that the scoreboard reads nil points at the end of the night; already plotting their hasty retreat out of the arena to the nearest hiding place. About as camp as the ultimate cheater’s glamping resort (so, not at all then), and far too straight-faced to hold its own in the world’s most flamboyant arena, we’ll be lucky to get a single pity-vote from Austria this year. (El Hunt)

“Thunder and lightning, it’s getting exciting,” insists Russian representative Sergey Lazarev on ‘You Are The Only One’. What a godawfully tacky lyric that is. But of course, that’s one of the key ingredients of Eurovision success, isn’t it? And he’s the bookies’ favourite dontcha know?

What else does one need for Eurovision victory? Hmmm. Stock synthetic beat? Check. Bizarrely futuristic visuals (including waking up in bed inside a very big, very empty fridge, and surviving getting crushed by a giant falling chess board)? Check. Dubious dance moves and overzealous gesticulations from the eager entrant? Check. Mind you, good ol’ Sergey seems a damn sight more into this whole shebang than his ‘Only One’ whom he’s trying to serenade – she doesn’t seem to be taking it seriously at all. This is no time to joke about; this is the Eurovision Song Contest.

Fortunately for his chances, Mr Lazarev executes this number with ample gusto to make it a worthy contender for the crown – and, such is its sheer Eurovision-ness, it would be one even if the outcome of the competition weren’t down to who’s got the most neighbours to scratch their back (ahem). It’s a pleasure and, worryingly, not necessarily a guilty one. (Tom Hancock)

Let’s be real for a second; nobody genuinely likes Eurovision’s power ballads very much, and there are far too many of them. Most sensible spectators treat especially overwrought moments of emotive screeching much like theatre intervals, nipping off to the kitchen to prepare another zubrówka/kalimotxo/other European beverage of choice. Thank heavens, then for Latvia.

Latvia – the nation known for its grey peas and ice hockey enthusiasts – has also got a clear talent for raunchy dance jams. If this one doesn’t liven up the night, nothing will. Like all the best love songs, there’s a subtle hint of obsessed lyrical creepiness hidden in those ‘high-octane’ bleeps, and the lingering, uncomfortable feeling that Justs is the sort of guy who would nick one of your hair-clips and place it on his mantelpiece forever more. “Feeling your heartbeat, that’s all I want,” Justs insists, over, and over and over and over again. “That’s all I need, feeling again that you’re breathing with me”. He goes on a bit, but the bloke has a point. It’s always nice to know that you’re dating someone with a pulse. So there you go. Weird sentiment, but also, a straight-up jam. (El Hunt)

How any Eurovision entries actually gain status as one of the favourites for the competition is slightly baffling, but Jamala’s up there in second place with her trip-hop banger ‘1944’. It’s overblown and emotive - as is compulsory for the competition - and is actually a bit of a tune, too. It might not quite have the completely nuts entertainment value of past winners, but at least there’ll be a shot to down in the Eurovision drinking game for that huge last chorus. And the camera work before the high note - christ alive. Thanks Jamala, this was a lovely time. (Will Richards)

Eurovision is a night of unity and togetherness. However, there is only room on stage for so many countries, and following the gruelling qualification process, unsung gems remain quite literally unsung on the big night. With this in mind, please can we hold a moment of silence for San Marino and Ireland’s cruelly jilted entries? They deserved so much more.

Oh god. Stay away from Serhat in the street. Oh god. To be fair, when that bass drum kicks in, ‘I Didn’t Know’ is pretty danceable, and he gets a little less terrifying. The chorus (in which Serhat doesn’t sing at all) is the best part by far. Sorry mate.

San Marino’s musical heritage isn’t well publicised, but if this is at all representative, then we’re in for quite a ride. Oh wait - a quick look at the YouTube comments (don’t recommend it) shows people getting quite angry because Serhat isn’t actually from San Marino. A sham, to be frank. (Will Richards)

Christ on a penny-farthing bicycle. At the end of the day, there’s no time like the present to release this, and although beauty is in the eye of the beholder it’s pretty as a picture and a song of two halves and YES BASICALLY IT’S JUST FULL OF CLICHES. Of course Westlife’s Nicky Byrne was given the mic/backing-track for this one; it’s an absolute dream anthem for anyone who likes being a boyband and getting up from their stool on a key-change.

It lies in the worst bit of the Eurovision Scale – it’s bad but not so unusually bad that it becomes amazing. It’s just plain bland. Plus, it’s probably not the best choice for Ireland because, as many of the commenters have pointed out, Ireland gets fuck-all sunlight. Thankfully it failed to qualify for the final, saving everyone a pack of Floxin Otic eardrops for the resulting infection. (Kyle MacNeill)

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