goodeveningeurope

Last minute advice before the MGP-final

In MGP, National finals, review on February 8, 2013 at 19:19
Band of our dreams. Contest of our dreams. Shit, are we really dreaming? Pic by Hege Bakken Riise/NRK

Band of our dreams. Contest of our dreams. Shit, are we really dreaming? Pic by Hege Bakken Riise/NRK

Yay, tomorrow is the grand day. We have stacked up on eyelashes, glitter and bubbly and are ready for a weekend of Melodi Grand Prix extravaganza. In case you need some guidance, here’s what you should notice and ignore from Oslo tomorrow.

Do make the whole of your heart, the better part of your brain and the very finest of your auditory system notice the following:

Datarock:
Actually we have been in love with these guys since they hosted more people onstage than offstage in our student pub. They always had us there, though, and they still do. Datarock are probably the only men on earth that look good in jersey and they certainly are the only men that sound good in disco. One fun fact is that Datarock are super popular in Australia. Another is we paid lead singer Fredrik Saroea way too little for singing Chet Baker magnificently once and still owe him big time. As a way of redeeming ourselves, we are working on including the aussies in our Eurovisional Union right before we send Datarock to Malmö

Margaret Berger:
Is she Tut Ank Amon, is she Cleopatra or is she Bjork? We don’t know, but she’s all good either way. Everyone that loathed Idol still loved this chick when she participated there, so we reckon she’ll do well in our country of MGP haters. And she will deserve every pixel of the votes you’ll give her.

Also notice, at least with some of your heart, a quarter of your brain and five per cent of your cochlea:

Vidar Busk:
If you think Norway couldn’t provide you with tough, rough blues hunks, you didn’t meet Vidar Busk. Sadly he met spray tan in the meantime. But he’s still cool enough and will for sure send Spektrum rockin’. For that we salute him.

Gaute Ormåsen:
It’s kinda embarrassing, but Gaute has always tickled our holy points. We mean, check out those dimples. And you should have heard his dialect. He’ll secure votes from all ladies between 18 and 80 right as he hits his falsetto. Beware of accidents and lock up your phone in time!

Fjellfolk:
Did you ever think Norwegians were a group of hobgoblins dressed in wool, singing folk tunes and dancing in a circle? Fjellfolk will not make you change your mind. Works well for Americans we guess. After all, they can be relatives.

Lucky Lips:
If you love Alison Krauss, you will love Lucky Lips. And after all, who doesn’t? This is beautiful and nice and all, but would do better in a remote city of Alabama. No need to bring your Union Station to Spektrum, no one will hear ya. Unfortunately. But hey, extra points for pink hair.

Annsofi:
So, Alexander Rybak wrote her song. Which means Alexander Rybak will be in Spektrum for the finals. Which means we totally love Annsofi. We hope Rybak is still not past his puberty and ready for party. Yay!

Don’t even let this near either your ventricle or your auricle. Or we will kill your brain.

Adelén:
Has already gained massive support in gay bars across the UK, Malta and Lithuania, much the same as Didrik, Stella and Tooji before her. Not exactly a good omen then, as we all remember too well how that went. Who let Adelén stay up way beyond her bedtime anyways? Where are the parents???

Gromth – Emil Solli-Tangen:
Funny bunnies have already named this lot The brother and the Beast. We cannot for the life of us understand why we should send another Solli-Tangen to ESC only to humiliate Norway yet another year. And who’s next in line? Please do not sign up auntie Solli-Tangen for MGP next year.

Sirkus Eliassen:
Not exactly our favorite pair of brothers either. Has been given the honor of finishing the show and we suggest you use these three minutes wisely. Vote like maniacs for Datarock and Margaret Berger, do the dishes, pop off to the loo, fix another G&T and look forward to Tooji and Loreen coming up in the interval act. Nuff said.

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