Another mid-March, another Melodifestivalen: the mighty Swedish mega-show reaches its conclusion this weekend, and for Eurovision fans this means we’ll know the home entry by Saturday night. Domestically, of course, this all feels rather incidental, as the jewel in SVT’s crown always seems more about achieving a final placing and scoring a local chart hit. I’ve long thought it must be as much of an irritant to have to haul your winning cookies out to be judged in yet another competitive event, with less of a chance of equalling your home success, as it is an honour to take home the sångfågel trophy.
It’s about this time of year that I’ve come to think MF is flying under the radar somewhat; the frenzy that hung about the show amongst the Eurovision fans in the late noughties as the internet opened up access to international viewing has gone. A glance back through my social media and I realise that the pattern now emerging is for the hotly-anticipated heats to come and not deliver that stomping great schlageranthem we dream of, leave us all a bit meh, and then all come good again by the final. This year is no exception.
I started this MF season in unusual fashion; logging in to watch the webcast from a scorching Rio de Janeiro carnaval in the mid-afternoon felt a million miles away from the Gothenburg frost. Even with the schalgerskandal of Anna Book’s disqualification (and subsequent increased media attention) it was hard to enthuse about the second rate Kempe so dire that its singers had to perform striptease to pique any interest. Ace Wilder’s awkward sixteen-going-on-thirty-four petulance of drug taking on religious premises seemed pathetically trite, no matter how visually dynamic they tried to make her performance.
The weeks continued with more filler than I can recall, going from bad to worse for us fanboys when After Dark and Saint Linda Bengtzing finished last – LAST! – in their heats, prompting even Christer Bjorkman to muse on the death knell of schlager. Why, it’s almost as if that voting app was brought in deliberately…
In a treat for those of us with our schlager sense of humour in perspective the best thing so far in this year’s season has been Queen Charlotte’s flawless musing on the fall of the Schalgerdiva. What an inspired moment her much-touted interval act cover of the German schlagerklassik Atemlos Durch Die Nacht proved to be when we found out it was a piss-take!
So now we have our final 12, and as tradition has come to dictate, they’re alright, you know? SVT has secured its diversity quotient and squeezed its big hitters in as widely predicted. But is it going exactly to plan or do we have some surprises?
The infectious enjoyment of Panetoz opens the show, a great high-energy start as they bring their brand of fun to the Friends Arena. They’re riding high in the Swedish iTunes charts (4th as I write this) which could see them place higher than some would predict. Lisa Ajax has the draw of death, perhaps appropriately given her song’s title. Dependable David Lindgren goes third, but I feel he may suffer his lowest placing yet in a final. Our second qualifier from the Andra Chancen goes fourth, SaRaha’s Kizunguzungu, or Habba Habba Part 2, if you will. This is so annoyingly naff you want it to finish where it deserves, but it’s astonishingly high in the charts (2nd in this snapshot) so write this off for a good pacing at your peril: only the international juries can scupper it.
Two of the early favourites go 5th and 6th – Oscar Zia, and the aforementioned Ace Wilder. Early hopes for either of these have all but vanished, with Ace currently available at a massive 40-1 with some bookies. Don’t Worry, dear; you won’t have to endure as nervy as finish as you did losing to Sanna. They’re followed by the first of our dark horses, Robin Bengtsson’s baffling-named Constellation Prize, which has impressed since heat 1 as an unexpected qualifier. The mimed harmonica aside I fancy his chances for the top end of the table.
Next is one of this year’s greatest disappointments. Having bagged the coveted last in the last heat slot Molly Sanden’s return doesn’t deliver the showstopper we all hoped it might. It’s several shades slower than I want it to be and I think her fourth place in the betting is more than is warranted. She’s followed by another Andra Chancen qualifier, part singer, part footballer Boris Rene. This sounds great to me and I’d not be surprised if this comes in mid-table: I’d have it even higher if there were only more spots available.
I’ll come back to song 10 in a moment; song 11 is a cracking Avicii-like tune delivered by the now second favourite Wiktoria with an engaging performance that could make or break it. It’s heavily reliant on projections which are shone all over Wiktoria’s frame and face. It’s perhaps a little too hot on the heels of Måns, though, to be judged seriously by a Eurovision audience: were she to win I’d advocate a rare change of presentation from Sweden for May. The show closes with the lame effort from Samir och Viktor semi-skinny dipping, placed last to bat more for the logistics of bringing a water-splashed set back up to health and safety standards for the interval act than for any real chance it might possess.
So let’s pop back to song 10, the favourite, by Frans, who’s unrepentant. I think SVT has pulled a blinder here. Some of the slots in the heats are felt very predictable: first and last are seen as good with others seen as the place to bury the no-hopers. With all eyes on Molly Sanden, and straight after the over kill of Bengtzing’s Killer Girl Bjorkman snuck in his killer weapon during heat 4. As if from nowhere with no pre-show hype Frans’ unassuming and laid-back If I Were Sorry stood out a mile for me on first listen, the only song to make me think Sweden might be on to something. Not only is he comfortably topping the SVT web-poll at the time of writing, he’s nabbed the top slot on both the charts and local Spotify streaming, and with a cutesy back story of scoring a hit at eight years old singing an ode to footballer Zlatan Ibrahimović (13 weeks topping the Swedish charts!) I reckon it’s all but in the bag for him. And what a bag! Should he win it I think he’ll fully justify Sweden’s topping the betting with the bookies before the song is even chosen. Mind you though, we all saw what happened to Margaret and Edyta in Poland…
I won’t be in Stockholm for the show this year: twice in a season seemed too much, even though I don’t yet know if I’ll make it in May. I’ll be in the pub in London though, looking forward to what’s turned out to be a very nice final indeed. Don’t use the interval for your loo break though: we’re promised a special performance with 15 former MFers which will not be to be missed. With very little left to be revealed how will our predictions be falling after Saturday night?
Monty x