Chris clearly understands what this week has been about. And his suggestion was a song I'd forgotten all about. Listening to it did, at first, raise a smile if only because I recalled how I'd rather taken to it's solitary tone so quickly when I heard it in 1990. A couple of minutes in however, it did rather tap into the dark side.
That's the thing about this song. As marvellously indulgent the sumptuous strings are in the live performance there's a deep melancholy about it which can, for those who could probably do with a few more carbs in their system, push certain individuals over the edge.
As sad as it sounds, there is a sense of hope about it. I don't say this with any deep understanding of the lyrics. My rather paltry research has only revealed that the title means "My Macedonian Woman". It's the sound of the music which is melancholic and hopeful all at the same time.
Eurovision songs used to help me recall what was going on around late spring in the year each particular song made it's appearance. Given that this is the first time I've put out the feelers for a song to review on what must seem quite a bizarre Eurovision blog, I'm in no doubt that this song will forever remind me of what has been quite possibly the most difficult week in a long time.
Please resist the tempation for sympathy. Macédomienne is full of hope ... I think.
Oh .. and I'm aware that the clip above isn't the live performance from the actual Eurovision. That's because the video clip I've found isn't the greatest quality. But, if you're a purist and you want see his live performance, watch the version below. Go on .. you get to hear it a second time that way. ;)
Thursday 6 March 2008
# 28 Macédomienne
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
This is certainly an undervalued piece - I won't go quite as far as Chris is saying that it's the best male ballad in Eurovision history, but it sure is relentlessly classy.
While I can understand the impact of the somewhat dark arrangement upon your battered psyche, Jon, the lyrics are actually quite neutral. It's a celebration of Philippe's Macedonian wife, and the fact no matter what others think or say, he has so much because he has her.
The other point I wish to make is something you might appreciate a bit more than Chris or myself ;) Every time I put 1990 on, my mother always comments that Philippe has a wonderful pair of bedroom eyes - and I think she's probably right!
Just how many times do you put "1990 on" Chris?
Oh, I watch it in full at least a couple of times a year...and dip into it additionally about once a quarter - why? :)
Well, it IS one of my favourite years...
I'm so glad this song brought a warm furriness to your soul, it always does mine.
I must admit that I thought it was too slow and quiet to grab me when I first heard it, but over the years it never fails to move me.
Why? A combination of a very gentle arrangement (very very slightly rocky); the singer is just an ordinary bloke (just realised he looks like my friend Franta) so gives a kind of "everyman" feel to the proceedings; but primarily I love the words. It seems to bring out the best of the French language. Let me pick out some phrases for you:
"Un cri tzigane caché dans ses murmures" (sounds beautiful)
"petite fille aux pieds nus de la pluie dans ses cheveux" (sensual imagery) and my favourite
"elle fait de mon corps ce qu'elle veut" (delicate hint of eroticism).
I love the fact that the song has the confidence to finish suddenly as it does. He's already opened his heart and said it all - job done. A lush crescendo would have been mawkish.
Terry Wogan (naturellement) always called it Macedoine, obviously presuming Philippe was in love with a chopped vegetable concoction.
Wasn't it delightul to remember the days when we used to have preview programmes on Sunday afternoons, and taken reasonably seriously too.
At the moment I genuinely can't think of a better male ballad in the ESC, but I'm always happy to approach suggestions with an open mind!
And yes 1990 is worth lots of replays.
Post a Comment