Sorry I have phlegm in my throat again!
First up this morning is Georgia, and, let’s be frank here, I wish I hadn’t bothered. This, for me, was the very definition of a song to slit your wrists by. If you weren’t so bored by the end of it that it sends you to sleep before the first cut.
Tornike just stands on stage and whines down the camera and microphone at me for three minutes and, you know what; I think he knew what we were thinking because on his camera recorded run through he literally just messed about, taking the vocal everywhere, burping into the microphone and really not giving a flying f*ck about what I or the press centre are going to write. Genius.
Visually it is quite effective, in a twist on what has been happening for the last few years, they have the lyrics both on the background and being written on Tornike’s body when he sits down on a booster seat they have brought in for the occasion.
It’s a man singing a slow plodding ballad that goes nowhere and ends apologetically. Sorry next.