I’ve been to Latvia twice – once to attend the taping of a Supernova final – and once to see the Riga Beaver’s punk band play a show in a dive bar.
But while I went for music, I fell in love with Riga as a city; its mix of beaux-arts architecture and Socialist realism, its functional tram system, its walkable streets and ample vegan food and delicious chocolate and just general liveable scale. I hope to go back soon when it’s not the middle of winter to take the train to Jurmala and spend time along the beach.
I say this to note the role that Eurovision plays beyond a song contest – Supernova (and the Riga Beaver) may have been what originally lured me to Latvia, but the country’s own charms are what made me want to return.
And I’m glad that I did all of that before this year’s Supernova, which ended up anointing Dons and Hollow as Latvia’s representatives in Malmo:
Look, sad male ballads aren’t my thing, so I’m going to try and focus on the positive elements of this. Dons co-wrote this song, and he’s clearly managed to translate the feeling that he put into the lyrics into emotions in his song.
But the raw honesty of the performance can’t make up for some of its shortcomings. The song feels a lot longer than three minutes, largely because two verses are padded out by a bunch of repetition. And the transitions between the quieter moments and the swelling choruses don’t go well, with Dons moving from a whisper-sing to a shout. Finally, the whole thing is a bit dirge-y, and could have benefitted from a little more interesting instrumentation. I know I pooh-pooh the appearance of the gospel choir in a Eurovision song, but boy, the last 30 seconds of Hollow are absolutely crying out for one.
That brings me to another point – the difficulty of staging a song that’s essentially about one’s internal self. In Supernova, Dons and his team went for the moody route, letting the clouds of dry ice represent the rolling turmoil in his soul. But on the Eurovision stage, will Dons alone be enough to carry this song? I realize that there is a dearth of male ballads in Eurovision this year, but simply being different from uptempo bops can’t make up for a weak staging concept – especially when France is right there with more emotion and better staging.
As a song, Hollow is too slight to get me to vote for it, let alone make me want to visit Latvia.
And for those of you who don’t pay obsessive attention to National Finals, I want to share with you two songs that *do* make me want to visit Latvia, because as a country, it’s got a lot more to offer than sad ballads (even though this might not be apparent from some of its Eurovision entries.)
The first is Kur? by Vestules, two teenagers who made their Supernova debut this year:
I didn’t click with kur? when I listened to the studio version of Supernova tracks, but the live performance is electric. There’s a chemistry between these two, and a story they’re telling us, and I could watch them perform for hours. I hope that they come back to Supernova next year.
The second is Lose Control by Markus Riva.
As noted elsewhere on this blog, Markus Riva is a perennial Supernova entrant. But this song – an absolute banger – was rejected from the competition. And yes, while Dons fills the male ballad niche, it’s not like Eurovision 2024 has many slutbops from men who can go toe to toe with dancers like Nutsa for dance breaks. Oh, what could have been…
dudepoints.fun 