Every spring, the Ukrainian infospace launches the same attraction. First, we erase the winner of the National Selection in the sand on social networks. Then we silently wrap this surviving artist in the flag of a “unique cultural code” and send him to Europe with a silent but extremely aggressive demand to bring home first place. This year, LELEKA fell into the millstone of our inflated expectations.
And watching the music establishment's reaction to her song is like reading the medical record of our pop industry. The diagnosis is read between the lines.
A convenient screen of “authenticity”
Take for example Igor Kondratyuk's comment. He said something along the lines of: he didn't see any big hits, but there is authenticity, originality — so, they say, let's see.
This is a wonderful, classic producer's insurance. I translate from diplomatic language to human language. If LELEKA does not make it out of the semi-finals, the expert will throw up his hands: “I told you the song was not a hit.” If suddenly the production miraculously pulls it into the top, he will say with the same confidence: “The authenticity played, as I predicted.” A win-win lottery.
In our show business, the word “authenticity” has taken on an interesting connotation. It has become a universal euphemism for music that lacks a catchy hook, a clear motif, or even some commercial potential. We stubbornly try to sell our longing and depth to a well-fed and relaxed Europe, ignoring the basic fact: Eurovision is a pop contest. Ethnic motifs work there only when they are tightly sewn to a powerful, universal beat.
The end of the era of compassion
Looking at European sentiment, one unpopular thing to say is that empathy has run out. Or rather, it has changed form.
Memories of the Kalush Orchestra phenomenon in 2022 warm the soul, but relying on the fact that Europeans “don’t want war and will support ours” is a strategy with an expiration date that has long passed.
A viewer somewhere in Berlin, Stockholm or Madrid turns on the TV on a Saturday night to drink a glass of beer and turn off his brain from the heavy news. He will no longer vote for us simply because he feels sorry. In the fifth year of a great war, counting on geopolitical points is a special kind of infantilism.
Europe wants music that rocks. That surprises or breaks stereotypes. And we have become hostages to our own pain, expecting the world to pay us tribute for life.
Provincial strife as an engine of progress
A separate type of aesthetic dissonance is our love for internal showdowns. “For the national selection, scandals are wonderful,” says Kondratyuk.
Within one country, this may keep the viewer glued to the screen. But there it will look like a commotion in a closed jar. If the only thing that fuels interest in the song is the accusation of the jury of all mortal sins and the showdown in the comments, then the question is about the song itself.
We rejoice in local hype, forgetting that the international market doesn't care about our battles. That's where professionalism is needed.
Cold shower instead of champagne
If we go with the baggage we have now, May could bring a harsh reality check. We risk receiving a lower score than in recent years. The irony is that for Europe it will simply be a place for some country, and for our society it will be another betrayal and tragedy under the slogan “the world has turned its back on us.”
The same critics who today cautiously talk about a unique style will tomorrow be the first to dissect failure on live broadcasts, forgetting about their own silence.
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⚡ Readers' Pulse
Is it time for us to grow up and put on a driving show or continue to push for empathy and a “unique code”?
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🔥 We need quality pop 🌿 Authenticity is our strength 🤔 I have my own opinion
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🔥 Need quality pop 100% 🌿 Authenticity is our strength 0% 🤔 I have my own opinion 0% 💡
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