Latvian popular music is a broad church, and the Bonaparti lads here produce a performance infused with WTF and OMG.
They wander on set one at a time to deliver their lines, and the cumulative effect by the time the last of them arrives is one of FFS, how many of them are there?
It’s the lost Italian entry, and yet at the same time it’s like Israel 1979 on raisins.
Andorra don’t feel quite so nailed on, all of a sudden.