Eurovision 2022

Guide to the Turin Eurofestival

In Italy, the Eurovision Song Contest was for years known solely for its high tolerance of trash culture: that was before our country became a fixture of the competition in 2010. Since then, through a string of strong placements (only Emma Marrone and Francesca Michielin failed to crack the top 10 in their respective years), the festival has taken on ever greater relevance, culminating in the triumph of Måneskin in 2021, whose media impact was second only to that year's well-known sporting successes.

A closer look, however, reveals that Eurovision isn't just a show of outlandish costumes and over-the-top songs: with a lineup that hovers around forty participants each year, it would be particularly snobbish and short-sighted to lump everything together.

For this edition, whose finals will be hosted in Turin, a welcome development has also occurred, with a marked increase in songs sung at least partly in languages other than English: as many as sixteen. It's a trend that's been steadily growing, though far from a given: in a world culturally dominated by Anglophone culture, the odds of winning while singing in English are, after all, much higher. Consider that until 1998 participants were required to sing in their own native language, which led Ireland and the United Kingdom to win five out of six editions between 1992 and 1997.

Once the rule was scrapped and everyone was free to sing in English, almost all of them did, producing a dispiriting roll of honour that saw English-language songs win every year from 1999 to 2015, with the sole exception of 2007, when Marija Šerifović triumphed singing in Serbian. Only in recent years has there been a more substantial run of departures from the norm, with Ukraine's Jamala singing in Tatar in 2016, Salvador Sobral in Portuguese in 2017, and of course Måneskin.

It's clear that the rise in artists daring to escape the diktat of English is directly linked to these recent successes, and the hope is that the trend will keep growing in the coming years - not least because, at least in this year's edition, the gap in quality between those who chose to sing in their own language and those who preferred English is almost embarrassing.

Below is a listening guide to the songs competing in the semi-finals on May 10 and 12.

The standouts

It should be stressed that this is not a prediction about the final result. If anything, some of the songs listed below may well struggle to make an impact, being considerably more distinctive and complex than the average entry.

Konstrakta (Serbia): "In corpore sano"

Perhaps the most original song in the competition. Sung mainly in Serbian, it's an art-pop track with a shifting, unpredictable structure, blending electronic backing, sampled voices and church-like choral parts, pulsing drones, handclapping and passages in Latin.

The lyrics address contemporary culture's obsession with the appearance of artists and public figures, who are expected - even if unofficially - to conform to a rigid behavioural template.

Konstrakta has been the singer of the excellent indie band Zemlja Gruva for fifteen years, but she's competing at the festival as a solo artist.

LPS (Slovenia): "Disko"

City pop in Slovenian? A group of teenagers between seventeen and nineteen years old. They're essentially newcomers, who made it to Eurovision after starting out in a competition held at their high school and then climbing through further selections at local level.

Bookmakers rate them as the most unlikely winner, and they may well fail to reach the final, but they'd deserve it for the brilliance and dynamism of the song, in which they handle funk and lounge with the skill of seasoned professionals.

Systur (Iceland): "Með hækkandi sól"

A trio of sisters active, solo or as part of other projects, since 2013.

The song speaks of the dreams of freedom and hope of an Icelandic woman from centuries past, subject to the vistarband, a law that forced anyone who owned no land to work in service of local landowners.

The sound couldn't be further from 2022 trends: a refined Celtic folk-pop, with ethereal vocal harmonies somewhere between Enya and Blackmore's Night.

Kalush Orchestra (Ukraine): “Stefania”

Formed in 2019 and with only one album to their name, they hail from Kalush, near the Polish border, hence the name.

They're the bookies' favourites, for obvious reasons. But even without the ongoing war, it would be impossible not to rank them among the best entries: the song blends rap, electro swing and Ukrainian folk tradition in a surprisingly inventive whirlwind, underscored by the musicians' gorgeous traditional costumes.

The lyrics are an ode to all mothers: given the context, it might look like a calculated move, but the song was actually recorded last year.

Maro (Portugal): “Saudade saudade”

The only truly surprising song among those sung mostly in English (though room was left for a verse in Portuguese).

Despite five people appearing on stage, all singing and clapping along, Maro isn't the stage name of a female vocal group, but of the solo singer-songwriter Mariana Secca.

Delicate indie pop with layered vocal harmonies, it manages to show off its roots despite the English lyrics, drawing heavily on Portuguese folk.

Worth keeping an eye on

Monika Liu (Lithuania): “Sentimentai”

A curious mix of electropop march and cabaret song, almost like a Marlene Dietrich projected into the future.

S10 (Netherlands): “De Diepte”

An atmospheric midtempo, entirely built on melancholy, aching tones. The chorus is perhaps a touch saccharine, but overall the track comes together well.

Alvan & Ahez: (France): “Fulenn”

Sung in Breton, it sits at the crossroads between dance with saturated basslines and folk with an ancestral flavor.

Fan-favourite awards

Achille Lauro (San Marino): “Stripper”

Regardless of the song itself, the way he managed to take part by sidestepping the obstacle of Sanremo deserves applause, especially given the criticism it drew (probably from people thinking to themselves: "Why didn't I think of that?"). The track is a charming punk-rock number with an LGBT flavor, certainly more successful than the "Domenica" he brought to Sanremo.

Citi Zēni (Latvia): “Eat Your Salad”

Electropop, funk and rap with a vegetarian, environmentalist twist, delivered with a good dose of irony and none of the preachy shadows that usually accompany these themes.

Zdob şi Zdub & Frații Advahov (Moldova): “Trenulețul”

A hilarious folk-punk number whose lyrics poke fun at the situation of Romania and Moldova, two nations kept apart despite essentially sharing culture, language and market.

Final thoughts

The remaining participants failed to bring songs that stood out for originality or any other particular merit. Even "Brividi", the anthem by Mahmood and Blanco that won Sanremo, ultimately amounts to just another romantic slow number, however well produced. Still, it's a far cry from the worst of the lineup, which, as every self-respecting Eurovision Song Contest should, features a fair share of overwrought ballads beyond any sense of restraint, dance numbers that outdo kitsch itself, and generic radio-friendly pop.

Particularly questionable was the choice made by countries like Germany, Poland, Israel or Spain, all of which boast thriving, hugely important music scenes in their own languages, yet here bent over backwards - in hopes of taking home the trophy - into bland, personality-free songs in English.

There's also room to debate how fair it is for the "big five" (France, Italy, Germany, Spain and the UK) to qualify automatically, given that only one of them managed to bring a genuinely surprising song this year (France).

In any case, with at least a dozen more-than-worthy songs, some of which are true gems of cross-genre contamination, this edition is undeniably a particularly strong one.

 
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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Federico Romagnoli, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.

Read the original in Italian · About the English edition