Ooof. I’ve sat through a bunch of A Dal over the past month, and I don’t know if I’m ready for an A Dal final. The jurors have taste that is pretty much diametrically the opposite of mine. Favorites like Leander Kills and yesyes were unceremoniously booted from the competition. Petrushka, the inexplicably popular jury favourite, was booted from the final because he plagiarised a Vampire Weekend song – which he turned into a Jason Mraz mushpot.
The only positive thing is that there are a whole TWO women in the A Dal final this year, as opposed to last year’s sausage fest.
So let’s see what and who we’re going to hear:
Acoustic Planet – Nyári zápor
Thank goodness someone remembered to bring the milk jug to A Dal this year!
That being said, the milk jug is the only thing I like about this song. Its hook sounds like it’s the ad break intro for a daytime talk show. The singer seems too nervous to be nailing the lyrics, and the BPM never elevate into a range that I can appreciate. I like that this is one of the TWO acts with a woman, but the whole vibe is just very cruise ship band.
Bence Varva – Szótlanság
Can someone check on Bence Varva? i’m worried about him.
I mean, after all, look at his appearance on stage. He’s standing stock still for most of it, and I could swear that his eyes are closed for at least 3/4 of the time he’s on stage. While he performs the song well (with the exception of some high notes), I feel like he’s desperately trying to forget that he’s performing this in front of an audience.
Also, it’s a man ballad, not a banger, so I am very much over it already.
The Middletonz – Roses
Is this our third ‘Z’ band this year?
The opening of this song has grown on me, as Andre Kallay-Saunders manages to deftly navigate the singsong melody. And then the rapper comes in and his flow is so bad it’s going to require a Super Plus tampon. Andre can’t manage to keep the whole thing afloat on its own. It’s a no.
Kulcs – Fatal Error
If Hungary can’t send my sad boy Gergo Szerker, why not go ahead and send the pop punk favourites Kulcs? We saw how amazing AWS were last year, and these guys have the AWS seal of approval, with Ors introducing them on the individual video. At the most recent semi-final crowd went absolutely wild for them. The guitar riffs are solid, the chorus is catchy, and there’s that fantastic scream at the end. I would be very happy if the televoters of Hungary managed to push this one through.
Joci Papai – Az én apám
Joci, WHERE IS YOUR MILK JUG?
I enjoyed Joci Papai when he performed in 2017 Eurovision, bringing the sounds of the Romani people to the main stage. And I like Az én apám, which has some hooks in the chorus. But it’s no Origo, and it a year with stronger songs and contenders, name recognition shouldn’t propel Joci to another Eurovision stage win.
Gergo Szeker – Madar Repulj!
I can’t believe I’m saying this about a song that isn’t a banger, but This is my choice to win A Dal, and it’s not just because Gergo Szeker is easy on the eyes. The song is highly original, mixing electronic effects, soaring vocals, traditional Hungarian instruments, and even a rap part. It’s also the catchiest of all the A Dal entries – especially that mournful Madar Repulj chorus. Gergo sells the song, performing it with a lot of feeling – I’m afraid he’s going to start crying on stage from those sad puppy dog eyes. What seals the deal, however, is the fact that this is the only song title to contain an exclamation point. I appreciate the extra emphasis!
Bogi Nagy – Holnap
Oh, Bogi, you sound lovely. And your staging with the suspended hula hoop adds a new entry into the pantheon of large skirt projections. But this goes nowhere except up and down on your hula hoop. Staging alone can’t provide the build! It’s a no.
Gergő Oláh: Hozzád bújnék
Well, thank goodness that the number of women in the A Dal final isn’t greater than the number of Gergos!
Gergő Oláh has a very very bland ballad, which he performs competently. But someone has been giving him bad advice. When I watched his song for the first time, he was wearing a brightly coloured polo shirt with a ridiculously tiny matching bow tie. See?
It looked awful, but it was a look. Now, his stylist has put him in this:
A raggedy beige sweatshirt that makes it look like he got dressed in the dark from a trash can closet. It’s equally memorable, but he’s gone from looking like he made an effort to not caring at all.
Joci Papai will probably win it; Gergo Szerker should win it; I’ll be happy if Kulcs pulls through; Petrushka should have been pushed out of the competition much earlier, and my god, Hungary, get some better jurors for next year, okay?