WRS is pronounced Urs, which should give me every opportunity to shoehorn in a quip about my love for bears. WRS himself is quite removed from the gay-culture sub-category, however, seeming to be a rather flightier piece, but his style and delivery suits this so well.
The Latin influence is here from the Spanish in the lyrics to the beat and sounds of the music. I’m such a fan of Spanish pop that I’m instantly drawn to this, and even though it’s quite light it’s a welcome moment of pleasure amid the Class of 2022 collective trauma that peppers so many of the other entries.
The lyrics talk of a forbidden love, a familiar theme at Eurovision, all the way back at least to the 1961 winner Nous Les Amoureux. That age-old tale can be one of love across class divides, between religions, even crossing dynastic taboos. It can also be about same-sex attraction, and this is the interpretation I’m going with here. It’s a theme reflected in the choreography as WRS dances romantically with both women and men, and it’s one that will resonate with many viewers of the show.
I’ll never underestimate the importance of such visibility in many of the territories Eurovision is shown. Despite not breaking much innovative musical ground WRS is continuing to take an important representation on to the Eurovision stage, and I am right here to champion it.
My marks: DOUZE POINTS!