Iceland
VÆB – RÓA
VÆB arrive like they’ve just burst out of the warm-up slot for a junior DJ battle at Reykjavík Pride, and frankly, they’re having a lovely time. RÓA kicks off at full volume and refuses to let up for three unrelenting minutes, packing in a fistful of hooks, a dollop of nasal rap, and enough forced cheer to power a mid-range theme park.
It’s shouty, yes, but purposefully so—this is designed as a Saturday night group shout-along, ideal for viewers already two drinks in and waving flags with vague national affiliations. There’s something faintly Jedwardian about the whole affair: the energy, the wide-eyed commitment to nonsense, the lack of concern for nuance or subtlety.
The problem is, it all peaks too early. With nowhere left to go, the track simply cycles through the same trick until the listener begins to experience a sort of musical déjà vu. The key change comes as an act of mercy, offering the illusion of progression before yet more chorus-chanted repetitions roll in.
It’s not awful—just over-eager, slightly one-note, and unlikely to change anyone’s mind about Iceland’s Eurovision strategy. But hey, there’s a key change.
4 points