# 39 Zemrën E Lamë Peng

I'm wondering whether I'm a little biassed when it comes to this song. Zemrën E Lamë Peng is a potent reminder of a time when in the run up to the 2008 contest when I found myself working on a special Eurovision-related project myself. I had this track playing in my ears morning, noon and night.

The song is a convincing one, with a heart-wrenching set of chord progressions which communicate pain and suffering even if I haven't looked at the English translation of the lyrics or even bothered to go and look at them now. (I know .. that's shameful isn't it, but I'm going on how it sounds). The bottom line is that when I listen to this I don't immediately think it's a Eurovision song. That means it has a spot of integrity in my book.

Sixteen years old when she participated in the Eurovision semi-final in 2008, Olta Boka was the youngest representative for Albania. Perhaps it's this combined with the inevitable lack of experience relative to her predecessors which means her live performance lacks a bit of punch. There are certainly some intonation problems from time to time.

Those problems to one side, this is still a great song with a satisfactory performance as well but its ultimately disappointing to see it did relatively badly in the final scoreboard coming a surprising 17th place on the big night.

# 38 Hear my plea

If there was an eastern Europe bias in the results from the 28 country strong semi-final this year, Albania didn't benefit from it.

This was to be the second year running Albania had failed to get through the semi-final stage ending up with a disappointing 17th place. A shame really as "Hear My Plea" sung by Aida & Frederik Ndoci is, based on a very simple comparison with their previous efforts, by far the strongest contribution Albania has made.

The song's anthemic chorus has a simple melody and is the just desserts for what starts off sounding like a slightly alienating opening melody. The overall sound and the stage presence makes for a solid statement to boot.

There's no doubt either that singing couple Aida & Frederik Ndoci show their obvious ability at delivering a punchy performance. They, like previous Albanian representatives, obviously have the necessary competence for singing in these kind of situations, something I might even go so far as to say is something of a trait of Albania's. Naturally such a wild and unsubstantiated claim may well be disproved when I cast a critical eye over Albania's 2008 entry.

Final place: 17/28
Final score: 49

# 37 Zjarr E Ftohtë

Oh deary me. Every time I watch this video I feel terribly sorry for Luiz Ejlli singing Zjarr E Ftohtë for Albania in 2006 whose performance to get the country through the semi-final that year.

Don't get me wrong, the boy can sing and doesn't suffer from any obvious on-stage nerves in terms of his voice production (quite possibly the result of having participated in the "Albanian" Idol equivalent. But, sweet jesus, he really can't dance to save his life.

True, it's not the most scintillating of songs. It was never going to be a winner given that it doesn't actually do very much or go anywhere. That said, it is representative of a culture (or at least it sounds that way) and, on a lightly geeky level, I do rather like the shuffle-style rythmn in the track.

Ultimately though, this song proves one scary truth about today's Eurovision. Participation isn't risky for an artist because of the quality of the song as much as it is the extent to which that artist has to place his trust in TV producers, choreographers and directors. When the song is chosen to represent a country it's those TV people who are charged with the task of putting that act on the Eurovision stage in such a way that people across Europe will sit up and take notice.

I can't bear watching the instrumental breaks. I can't quite wipe the idea from my mind that Luiz could quite easily be at the back of some wedding reception bobbing up and down uncomfortably to the beat, his mother and grandmother joining in the dance. He just looks like a teenager in his white suit and matching shoes. It's not particularly big and it's certainly not cool. But seeing as Luiz is reasonably easy on the eye, it is forgivable.

Final placing: 15/24 (semi-final)
Final score: 58

# 36 Tomorrow I Go

As the Thoroughly Good Eurovision bus makes its long and windy journey through the myriad of offerings, there are one or two things are slowly becoming clear to me. I am beginning to enjoy this massive process rather more than I thought I would. And I'm beginning to remember useless facts, useless scores and random song titles. I am, at last, embracing the inner geek.

Take Albania's efforts, for example. I know little about Albania and can recall even less about the last few years output from the Eurovision machine. That's why listening to some of the songs from the Thoroughly Good thirties I've found myself pleasantly reacquainted with some forgotten joys. Sure, they probably won't meet the exacting standards of some who read and consume this (there's only a handful - don't be misled) but some of these numbers do strike up some interesting memories.

Not so with this one. I don't really recall Albania's entry from 2005, quite possibly because it was lost in what I imagine I regarded back then as a sea of quite similar sounding tracks.

Whilst "Tomorrow I Go" starts off pretty well (in my book at least), it's not long before my attention is waning. The melody doesn't hold up against the whistling criteria I tested it against this afternoon (it just sounds crap when I whistle it - even the builders on the second floor of the office gave me funny looks when I passed them) and it's clear that gorgeous singer Ledina Celo struggles to deliver a strong enough performance.

But there's one thing which sticks in my mind the most about this little parade and that is the inexplicably dull and ultimately pointless choreography. I can forgive the balloon pants passing as ethnic dress but why on earth have six dancers on stage leaping around with fake violins ? It just don't work love. Sorry.

Ultimately however, every time I listen to the song (don't get me wrong, I have watched this video a few times as well) it's also painfully close to My Number One from Helena Paparizou which as we all know now won for Greece the same year.

Poor old Ledina never stood a chance. No surprises she came 16th with a grand total of 53 points. Still, she could have done worse. She could have come lower than the UK that year. But let's not go there. At least, not yet.

Final place: 16/24
Final score: 53

# 35 Image of You

The Albanians certainly went to a great deal of effort selecting their artist to represent the country at their first ever Eurovision in 2004. Seventeen year-old Anjeza Shahini beat twenty-nine other hopeful representatives in the RTSH (Albanian TV) song festival (Festivali i Kenges) with her song "Imazhi yt".

What makes the Albanian song quite interesting is that it began life as something a little different from the usual Eurovision entry. The version of the song Anjeza won the Albanian national final with was a non-EBU compliant four and a half minutes long, inevitably demanding a certain amount of rehashing on the part of the composers.

The result was the song translated into English with the title "The Image of You", one verse jettisoned and the whole sung at a faster tempo. (Liking the detail? Don't think I've absorbed this into an especially reserved area of my brain marked "Eurovision" - I just went trawling around on the internet.)

Having listened to the different versions on the internet today, I'm still certain that the original comes out on top in comparison.

Come the Eurovision semi (above video) in 2004, the performance had already gone through quite a drastic change too. Gone was the dubious choreography seen in the preview video, replaced by a group of singers who remained relatively static behind their microphones.

In a slightly gay-way I can't help thinking that the backing singers general attire on the night of the final looks like they'd just been pulled from an office somewhere to take part. They were, in fact, a collection of singers who had also competed national final Anjeza had won. There's a strange spirit in their performance which combined with Anjeza makes it seem like I'm watching a Eurovision from sometime in the 1980s. That isn't necessarily a bad thing, I hasten to add.

I wasn't absolutely convinced about the rehashed version in the final when I heard it again today for the first time in nearly four years. It doesn't really feel like it goes anywhere before eventually just grinding to a halt.

Anjeza gave an undeniably perky performance and could clearly belt out her song. The semi-final performance clearly showed what a hit she was in the hall and won through the semi.

Come the final, her obvious popularity and what by then seemed like a reasonably good song saw her and Albania finish in seventh place with a very respectable 106 points. In the final analysis it's just very difficult not to like it although it doesn't make me want to love it.

The ultimate indicator of a popular act must surely be a spot of imitation, courtesy of one obvious fan in Germany who shows himself as a potential performer himself. Don't deny it, each and every one of us has done a spot of this. Although, really and truly, I usually stick to doing it in front of the bathroom mirror.

# 34 Fight

At last, a vague sense of self-satisfaction as I complete a smallish chapter in this riduclously unwieldly Eurovision-related blog. Yes, this is the final contribution from Moldova (until some time in 2009) and on that basis I am feeling a little bit smug.

Natalia Barbu performed for Moldova in 2007 with "her" song Fight, a vast improvement on Loca from the previous year, but something which leaves me a little cold. There's more than a strong reminder of Ruslana with that skimpy leatherette number she's wearing.

The tub-thumping rock track reminds me just a little of Lordi's Hard Rock Hallelujah which won the previous year, although obviously Natalia looks considerably easier on the eye than Lordi did.

Having said that she does carry off a pretty good performance especially considering she has to hit quite a high note at the end something reflected in an equally good performance in the voting.

OIKO Times however carries a story post-Eurovision 2007 that Natalie would not put herself forward to represent Moldova in Eurovision again. It seems it's quite a costly exercise.

Soult.com: "Prediction for the final: Unlikely to qualify"

Je T'Adore Eurovision: "Moldova for me were one of the shockers this year, and I can’t decide as to whether or not they were a prime example of political voting at it’s best or if it simply did strike a chord around Europe..."

Not sure I'd necessarily go with what EurovisionLive.com concluded, "Natalie Barbu came 10th in the final with “Fight”. Maybe this proofs that new and innovative styles are very much appreciated at Eurovision."

MishaEurovision07 provides an account of Natalia in rehearsal in 2007.

Was it really innovative?

Final place: 10/24
Final score: 109

# 33 Loca

One of the problems with setting myself the challenge of listening to every Eurovision song and then blogging about them, is that I do have to write about the ones I don't like. That's quite a challenge when the damn blog is prefaced "Thoroughly Good". After all, in a way, what's the point if I don't like them? (It's about being "thorough", that's what it's about. Geddit?)

Still, in pursuit of a vague feeling of accomplishment, I might as well get Moldova's Eurovision contributions out of the way as quickly as possible. Where the previous act from 2005 set me alight, this one from 2006 performed by Natalia Gordienko and the dubious-sounding Arsenium leaves me cold.

I can't even bear to look at the video to be honest, the sound of the song is enough to make me think of 80s Lilt adverts with partying twenty-somethings bobbing up and down beside a casually parked Volkswagen Beetle on a sun-kissed beach.

Moldova came 20th in the final in 2006, hence why they had to participate in the semi-final the year after. Strangely, it's not unlike the UK's Teenage Life from Daz Sampson which came in at 19th place in the final ranking the same year.

Final place: 20/24
Final score: 22

# 32 Boonika Bate Doba

Talkon's correct. Moldova does have an impressive past when it comes to Eurovision (or at least their first contribution stands head and shoulders above the rest at least) as this, their debut performance in 2005 clearly demonstrates.

Boonika Bate Doba - translated as "Grandmama beats the drum"- is edgy and fresh and sufficiently different from anything else heard in the contest without alienating.

In fact, listening to this after a great deal of Europop makes me feel young, hip and trendy. Imagine the kudos at parties when people say "Who's your favourite band?" "Oh," I'd reply, "Zdob Si Zdub from Moldova. They're a fusion of hip-hop, rock and traditional Romanian music". People would be impressed, I'm certain of it.

The band, Zdob Si Zdub, had an impressive pedigree. Ten years playing together including tours all over eastern Europe as well as Germany and the Netherlands. This bunch were a real band and as a result looked like a real band on stage. It comes across in the performance, something which makes their sixth place in the final well-deserved.

Every now and again good stuff seaps through the Eurovision net. This is one of them. Love it. Zdob Si Zdub's website is pretty good too.

Final placing: 6/24
Final score: 148

# 31 Century of Love

Whilst I'm still able to look at the 2008 contest without breaking out in hives, take a look at Moldova's splendid little effort from this year, Century of Love sung by Geta Burlacu. The version above is the one from their national selection show.

I'll confess that I fell for this song big time the moment I saw the national selection video but, just as with quite a lot of acts this year, the experience was entirely different come the actual semi-final.

Gone was the intimate, basement-jazz like feel and in was a strange stage performance comprising a teddy bear and lost-looking sofa. I winced when I saw it.

I was disappointed it didn't get through to the final but will happily play it from time to time. This will be a survivor from 2008, no mistakin'.

# 30 Even If

If ever there was a song to continue my self-indulgent stroll through the endless hours of songs which graced the Eurovision stage, it's this one.

Forty-eight hours after Andy Abraham gave a sterling performance in Belgrade of a song I loved the first moment I heard it in rehearsals nearly three months before, I like a lot of people am left feeling bereft. Watching the video back now I'm still convinced the boy did good for the UK and the boy most definitely deserved more than the 14 points and last place he ended up with.

Not only that, he's one of the few people I've seen do Eurovision in recent years who clearly displays his commitment to the three minutes of doom so many UK artists shy away from.

OK, so it may not have been a winner, but I listened to it a lot on my iPod thingy in the run up to the 2008 contest. That's makes it a goodun for me.

And yes. I'm biassed.

See shots of Andy and the other competitors in the UK's Eurovision:Your Decision rehearsals here.

# 29 Ding Dinge Dong

Today saw quite a startling discovery in terms of Eurovisionness (if that's a word).

I reckoned the time had come to reveal a seminal Eurovision song to the world. It is Teach-In's Ding Dinge Dong (or is it Ding A Dong? I really can't be sure even though I have researched it in three different places) from the 1975 Eurovision Song Contest which saw my interest in Eurovision reignited.

Around about ten years ago the ex of my long-suffering partner Simon came round one evening for a spot of socialising. It could have been that he was making sure that Simon's new chap was up to the required "standard", I'm not sure. That aside, it was one of my CDs which Simon played to fill in the gaping silence which descended over the room from time to time.

Ding Dinge Dong was one of the tracks Simon played from my "Eurovision Winners Double CD of Joy" and which which sparked the interest of our guest for the evening. "I forgotten all about this. This was my favourite." It turned out our guest hadn't really consumed any Eurovision stuff since 1975.

Up until that point I thought I was pretty much the only person who confessed a love of this much-maligned event. Most people cast me a confused eye when I admitted to having "a number" of contests on video. Now, someone else with an otherwise healthy interest in the show had given one of it's winning songs some kudos.

Now I come to search on youTube for Teach-In's performance in 1975 contest I realise that there are a number of versions which amuse and entertain for a variety of reasons.

Shocking revelation number one is that until this afternoon I had absolutely no idea that the Netherlands pre-selection show featured three (possibly more) different performances of the same song. There was Teach-In's, power-singer "Debbie" and - by far the grooviest affair - one by Albert West.

As I delved deeper however, I discovered a brass band arrangement , a souped up (but no less satisfying) version by Russian blokey Alexey Glyzin and by far the best remix accompanying a slightly uncomfortable video by "Jane et Moi"

But by far the most entertaining is the simplest rendition of all. Included thus. Sometimes you don't need all the bells and whistles to deliver a punchy tune.

# 28 Macédomienne

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. ;)

# 27 I can't live without music

Maybe it's because I am in a spectacularly foul mood today and ready to hit out at anyone who dares to come near me that I've picked out this shameful example of Eurovision hideousness. It's a cautionary tale about what happens when people start letting their woeful lack of understanding about tv performances spiral out of control.

Just imagine it. What we need is someone singing this song whose affliction (Corinna is blind, if you didn't know it - most will) will make the lyrics all the more poignant. She's going to find it difficult to jig about on stage so we'll thrown in some dancers and backing singers who can do that as well.

The result ? A terrible looking performance eclipsed by one of the particularly bad acts in Eurovision that year (Russia and Cyprus were even worse) although nowhere near as excrutiating as the UK's now infamous appearance the year after when Jemini suffered their humiliation. The backing singers literally scream into their microphones, the intonation is all off and even the gratuitous key-change doesn't improve things either.

Little wonder Germany came close to bottom of the pile that year in 21st place with a measely 17 points. A real shame, as its clear that May has the power to deliver a punchy melody. She is clearly an able singer, just not in these conditions.

But the cherry on the cake, every time I listen to this song is the penultimate line of the lyrics. "Music makes me feel like flyin', gives me hope when I'm a cryin'" Pass me the sick bucket, quickly.

Should anyone feel the need to ease my troubled brow with a suitably calming suggestion of the next Eurovision song you think I should listen to, then please let me know using the handy comments box below.

# 26 Invincible

I look at this video of Carola singing "Invincible" for Sweden in 2006 and think only one thing. Let's throw as much as we possibly can at the lighting budget and pour the rest into the rental of the wind machine assuming, of course, there's something left over from the costume work.

It should come as no surprise that this particular song actually makes my skin crawl.

Don't get me wrong. It's punchy. Carola (Eurovision stalwart and one time winner for Sweden) gives a very polished performance and proves beyond any doubt that her singing abilities are totally reliable. She owns the stage and more importantly shows how comfortable she feels singing in such large arenas. Carola is made for television.

But that's also my problem with it. The song, the performance and the act feels packaged. It feels like the same kind of factory driven output I detect when I pick up a packet of supposedly "freshly made in the capital" sandwiches. It's like the people behind the thing know exactly the recipe for what the niche audience wants - ie tub-thumping, anthemic choruses delivered by a relative Queen of Eurovision - and delivers it time and time again.

Carola is lovely - the hour I spent with her in her hotel room accompanied by her entourage was an absolute joy. She was interested in answering my questions and what ever preconceptions I might have had regarding her personal beliefs and how they fitted in with her love of Eurovision seemed irrelevant at the end of the interview she participated in.

Still, I can't bear listening to this song. It's horribly cliched, more so than many other Eurovision songs.

# 25 Better the devil you know

As requested by Chris, stalwart commenter on this still relatively new blog, I am indeed moving on from Italy 1974 to something slightly more predictable and a little more recent.

Well, I say recent I do actually mean from fifteen years ago. Sonia, bounced up and down on the Eurovision stage in 1993 singing her perky number "Better the devil you know" and coming in a marvellous second place in the final tally. (Second place is really not a bad position to be in, especially as I did rather warm to the first place song that year from Ireland.)

Sometimes I reckon on the bare facts of a Eurovision song being cold and uninteresting. That's why, for the majority of these posts, I leave such matters to those who know more or whose encyclopaedia is a little closer to hand than mine. (In truth, my particular book is actually at the bottom of a pile of papers to the right of my desk. To be honest, I really can't be arsed to bend down and retrieve it.)

Consequently, in the run up to the UK's opportunity to choose it's song in the Eurovision: Your Decision final I ask you to click the play button (if you haven't already), sit back and enjoy some good honest pop.

A competent performance, a marvellous set, a smashing combination of purple and ginger and a rapturous applause at the end of it. What more could you ask for? *

* That's a rhetorical question.

# 24 Si

Another confession needed for the latest Thoroughly Good Eurovision video. This isn't something I'd actually heard that many times before, still less realised it originated from the 1974 contest. I didn't stumble on the song trawling the internet either.

My attention was drawn to Gigliola Cinquetti singing "Si" for Italy solely because of a meeting I was in with a new colleague in which I ended up talking about the projects I was working on. Inevitably - for professional reasons I might add - Eurovision came up.

"Si, 1974. It was brilliant," said Sally, her eyes clearly lit up by the prospect of either discussing Eurovision history or by the opportunity to test a supposed fan's knowledge.

I was running on empty at that moment in time so the idea of talking Eurovision history filled me with fear and dread. I confessed I knew little of the song title she was talking about but went straight to youTube and searched for it.

"That's it! That's it!" said Sally pointing at the small thumbnail on the page. "That's the one."

I recognised the set instantly. "Oh!" I said clicking on the link and waiting for the video to start, relieved I could clutch on to something I knew and at least attempt to sound as though I was in some way knowledgeable. "That was Brighton. The year Abba won!"

"Fuck Abba!" replied Sally, "Italy should have won that year."

As we listened to the song and Sally gestured with her arms in time with the soaring melody, I had to agree that Italy's effort that year was something very special indeed. This wasn't fluff or handbag music (both of which is acceptable and encouraged in equal measure) but instead a considered melody with a fair amount of passion delivered in a suitably understated fashion.

I can't say that I have ever heard anyone say "Fuck Abba!" before. Up until the other day Abba were, in my eyes at least, the god's of Eurovision. Abba were the people who had demonstrated how it was possible to win Eurovision and come out the other side.

Mind you, it's always nice to have a totally left-of-centre opinion come at you like a freight train.

(And yes, for those of you with an encyclopaedic knowledge, I know that Gigliola Cinquetti won for Italy in 1964. We'll get on to that later.)

Gigliola Cinquetti came second at the 1974 Eurovision Song Contest with her song "Si".

# 23 Eighties coming back

Bless this bunch of laid back Estonian representatives from 2003. Their's was a good song, with a fresh sound (possibly imitated from other bands I can't quite put my finger on right now) that offered something of a relief from all the others on offer in the 2003 Contest.

Simple, yet effective. Well executed. In tune and a tub-thumper to boot.

Shame it came 14th that year.

# 22 Go

Here's an example of something the UK does best. The recipe is really quite straightforward.

1. Get a good song with a convincing sound. Keep the idea simple. Don't let it get out of hand.

2. Get a reasonably low-key singer who can carry a tune. He may not necessarily immediately appear young and hip or, indeed, made for television. The key thing here is making sure he can deliver the song.

3. Make it clear to any hopeful choreographers that their services are not required for this particular act.

5. Sing the song. Get off the stage. Maintain credibility at all times. Don't let anything get out of hand.

Love it.

Poor old Scott Fitzgerald. He sang a beautiful song and did unexpectedly well in the 1988 Eurovision. The UK and Swiss acts made this particular event one of the most nail-biting in the show's history. There were genuine roars of disappointment when Celine Dion finally clinched her lead over Scott Fitzgerald in the final vote.

If only Scott had got his hair done. Maybe things might have been different.

# 21 Boogaloo

I've got guilty pleasures on the brain, clearly. So, seeing as I have, now seems to be a good time to reveal another one. Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats for Sweden's contribution to the European pop music canon. A song called Boogaloo sung by the adorable, if colour-blind, Ms Lotta Engberg.

The song didn't do badly in the ranking (it came twelfth the year Johnny Logan won with his power-ballad Hold me now), but didn't exactly get loads of points. It mustered only 50 when the final bell tolled.

Maybe it was the costumes. Maybe it was the tropical sound which clashed with the fact that the singer came from and represented Sweden. Or maybe it was the sight of bright yellow again lurid pink which acted as the final nail in the coffin.

Whatever the cause, I do still rather like this song. It makes me smile. And I reckon that's acceptable in Eurovision land. It certainly beats any act who considers its artistically vital to step on to the stage dressed as ugly aliens. But more on the 2006 Finnish win some other time.

What's "reasonably" interesting about this little ditty is that in the national selections on Swedish TV Lotta Engberg sang about (I think) "Four pieces of gum and a coca-cola" (listen out in the chorus in the video at the bottom of this post).

This, not surprisingly, was deemed a step too far by the powers that be at the European Broadcasting Union. It is they who, quite understandably, have to bear such considerations in mind as regards product placement. And yes, singing about a Coca-Cola might be seen by some as just that. Consequently, the lyrics were changed for the Eurovision final.

In addition to the difference in lyrics evident in the video below, there's also an interesting parallel to be drawn about the atmosphere of the national event compared to the European one. Yes, I know it sounds sad and dull, but if you're looking to win this contest it is all now about performance. The smaller the venue, the closer you are to the band and the audience, the better and more convincing the performance is going to be.

Not only that ... If you're an eagle-eyed viewer (and one who appreciates geeky references) you may possibly recognise some elements of the TV set from the Luxembourg song a few posts back. The Swedish national final below was two years after Sweden hosted the Eurovision in 1985. I suspect there was a spot of tv-set "recycling" going on. Jeeze, these broadcasters are tight when it comes to money.

(Oh and by the way .. the lyrics "knowledge" wasn't down to me. No, I have to come clean. That was down to mailto:eueurodave2000@yahoo.co.uk. Email him and tell him what a geek he is.)

# 20 Ka' Du Se Hva' Jeg Sa'

I make no apology for the fact that this song, sung by "Hot Eyes" in the 1988 Eurovision does much to stimulate the over-production of serotonin in my simple, naiive mind. It has nothing to do with the fact that Denmark ranked 3rd at the end of the contest behind Celine Dion and the UK's Scott Fitzgerald.

Quite apart from being one of the most difficult song titles to pronounce, Ka' Du Se Hva' Jeg Sa' epitomises everything which is simple, naff and shamelessly bright and perky. The performance is nothing but pantomime - just look out for the shameless amateur dramatics at the end involving the guitar and the conductor - and yet despite that I find it charming. Post-modern irony or people stuck in a time warp? It's very difficult to say. I do, however, have a recording of it on my phone and listen to it often, sometimes daily.

It was in fact the very song I was listening to when this smashing little picture was taken. Earlier on that morning, shortly before I ran off to catch a train to Manchester for a meeting, I learnt I'd be working on a website I've always rather fancied the idea of being involved in. It would be no exaggeration to say that I had a spring in my step all the way down to the station. I was one seriously happy bunny.

And if you're wondering which website I'm talking about it, I'd suggest you just have some kind of random stab in the dark. Your first guess will almost certainly be correct (and no, it's not a porn site).