OrtWell, no. Lunch was about two hours ago between Lordi and Treble, my lunch was about an hour ago missing most of Lithuania and Portugal (oops… doing it again …)
Treble still aren’t impressing me for the Netherlands. There’s not really anything wrong with what they’re doing, it’s as strong and as attractive a performance you could ask for of that song, but the song still does everything it’s going to do in the first minute and then carries on. If ever a shoehorned key change were called for… it’s sunny and pleasant and completely devoid of “I’ll vote for that”.
I still like LT United. Matching black suits for the guys, they’re a rare ray of pure stoopid fun in a contest that occasionally seems to be taking itself a bit too seriously. It also has moments in a way that Amambanda doesn’t – when the gurt bald lump starts flail dancing in the middle, people will stop what they’re doing and stare at him in a “What’s he doing?” stylee, but I still like it and I still think it’s to the qualifying.
Only caught the last run through of Portugal, it still doesn’t really do it for me. A dozen people in the arena – all in a coherent group, not that that necessarily indicates anything – seem to be very responsive to it, but a lot more people were to the polite applauding. It’s still not the worst thing in it, but I remain to be convinced why people are going to pick up the phone for it.
And then there’s Hard Rock Carola. Something very odd has happened in the first couple of run-throughs – she’s not really doing anything different, and yet more than one person was left completely cold by it. I can’t explain it at all… it’s a real “can’t put your finger on it” moment. I fear that she may be holding back on a performance that’s going to be horribly over the top. It’ll qualify (I think), and half the team are watching the complete rehearsal session, but I’m underwhelmed by the first half of her 30 minutes.
Anyway, lunch was a feta cheese pie and a chocolate-filled bread with Delaney on the stairs overlooking the Olympic water polo pool, and it felt like more like I was a holidaying blagger than the professional music journalist that I clearly, umm, aren’t!