What was once so comfortingly said by Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman? We still have Paris left. Now the ARD studio isn’t quite Casablanca, but after such an entertaining pre-selection break you could certainly say: No matter what happens in Malmö – we still have Berlin left. In other words: The two-hour ESC preliminary decision late on Friday evening would have been a great show if it hadn’t ultimately been about the ticket to the final of the Eurovision Song Contest 2024.
After taking ibuprofen post-dental, Florian Silbereisen appeared just as relaxed as Ricardo Simonetti, who at one point even showed his red underpants, at least a small part of them. Mary Roos, the Grande Dame of the Grand Prix, praised the ESC as “the most peaceful event in the world” and even maintained her great spirits when she was seen again in her legendary potholder dress from the 70s in the clip. “That’s it again modern,” her dry comment. It’s also great how she switched from ESC nostalgia to pragmatic expertise. When the conversation turned to the combatants’ pursuit of a record deal, she spontaneously had the most important advice ready: “Guys, get a lawyer!” Only love allows us to live? Good advice for sure too.
Alli Neumann completed the round, her hair color matching the couture of the evening’s emcee, Barbara Schöneberger, who appeared in a dress that looked as if Asterix’s copper cauldron had been melted into a piece of clothing, in other words: superb. In general, the ESC testers not only seemed somewhat unaffected by the tragedy of the past few years, but one also got the impression that a pleasant laissez-faire attitude had now taken hold here. Have the last few years still been full of such a subtle “Europe, why are you doing this to us?” through, she took, one took, the whole store took the preliminary decision with an atmospheric mix of ZDF hit parade, “Always again on Sundays” and Green Room shortly after the third picco hole, in other words: loosely from the hip.
And there was also the field of eight aspirants who were preparing to succeed Lord Of The Lost, who also took a quick look. Above all, to make it clear that the Olympic motto also applies to the ESC. The next Grand Prix is always the hardest. If you want to see Germany at the top, you have to turn the tableau – that could possibly be the end of it in Malmö in May.
But first things first: Ninetynine’s “Love On A Budget” opened the starting field, with paisley guitar and Prince tattoo, middle-of-the-road pop between Phoenix and Pohlmann, followed by Leona in a pink rain cape and with “Undream You” may ultimately be a bit too dreamy. In complete contrast to Isaak, who with “Always On The Run” knew even better what an ESC rake was: a pinch of Rag’n’Boneman, a bit of Future Islands growl and a chorus that could fill a hall full of people Eurovision ecstasy should possibly claim. Something could be going on, that was immediately apparent. The duo Galant offered self-acclaimed “retrofuturistic electropop” that had a lot of potential musically, a cool mix of NDW and home-made industrial, but lyrically – meow-meow – it was more like “Under my bed” than Phoenix from the ashes.
Speaking of which, Conchita Wurst and Rea Garvey also met. The two had in their docutainment series “I want to go to the ESC!” won a wild card in the last few weeks. The contract was awarded to Floryan, whose “Scars” suffered a little from the same symptom as Ryk with his grandiose, opulent “Oh Boy” – without ESC pioneers like Duncan Lawrence or Gjon’s Tears, their furious falsettos might have been capable of more. But that was a bit of confetti from yesterday, some of it was really high class, but it had also been there before. However, this does not always have to be an exclusionary feature.
The man in the hat, Max Mutzke, could tell you a thing or two about it. 20 years after his eighth place in Istanbul, he tried again, his “Forever Strong” solid soul material brand “Will do it again”. Two female voices from different departments also tried it. On the one hand, the enchanting Bodine Monet, barefoot like Sandy Shaw, with “Tears Like Rain” a kind of Shakira in the fairytale folk version. And Marie Reim, following in the footsteps of her parents Michelle and Mathias Reim, appropriately ambitious with the hit “Naiv”, but ultimately powerless.
Things got a bit wild with the voting. It is unclear why these eight nations, including Spain, Lithuania and Switzerland, cast their votes, why the score of 7 was omitted and why, in God’s name, Barbara Schöneberger had to be given the final result in such small print. Somehow she mastered this as confidently as she did the thing with the uncomfortable belly, with her cleavage – “the hanging gardens of Semiramis” – and the cradle party by Ricardo Simonetti. He celebrated his 31st birthday live on the show and was presented with a cake that looked like it wasn’t quite finished at Lego Masters. Happy birthday again from this point.
And of course congratulations to Isaak, who took the lead early on and was able to defend this position until the end ahead of Max Mutzke and Ryk. Big cheers at the end of the “gay Superbowl” (original sound Simonetti), a winner who could definitely break the curse of the past few years, he just has to get the drinking quantity sorted out by then. “I have to pee so much, you can’t imagine it,” his words to Barbara Schöneberger, immediately before he was supposed to perform his winning song again. Isaak, however, withstood the (bubble) pressure. The final can come.
