Right, U2. Let's talk about Ireland's biggest rock band for a second. When everyone thinks of them now, they think of a pompous, overblown stadium rock band. But that's not how they started out. Their early success was with 1983s War and songs like 'Sunday, Bloody Sunday.' When you want to think of Irish rock and you want to think of sounding like U2, think of this part of U2's career, not the latter snorefest. (Though, obviously, with less politics).
Sadly Andrew Mann's entry went for a pompous anthem. You can't start out as a pompous crowd pleaser. That takes years of arrogant douchery. You get to be that when you've built your castle up on that peak. When you're a young indie rocker starting out, you should be edgy and cool! Ireland's attempt at a younger rock/indie anthem just came out as another snoreing ballad with prominent electric guitar, something that played safe with the dreary conservativism of RTE. Yawn.
Then there was Una Gibney and David Shannon.
Firstly, I don't like to judge how people want to dress, or say who is too old for what, but that dress Una Gibney wore was hideous and did her no favours. Good god woman, you look ridiculous. I can't understand anyway dresses that are crotch skimming at the front and floor-dragging at the back. That strikes me as combining the worst elements of skirts. You are capable of both exposing your vagina and tripping over your own dress. It seemed a bit starlet or attention seeker, not seasoned professional singer to me.
The song itself was full of irritating, cheesey sentiments about bringing everyone together, and sickening pan-european sentiments, that have no meaning at all. None. It's a song of hollow, empty cliches sung by two people who have no connection to each other. Language of Love. God, even the title makes me want to vomit. Urgh, I'm so glad this never won. I couldn't have been more glad.
So... Jedward... Jedward... Jedward. :(
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