When it comes to Eurovision, I’m your man. Junior Eurovision, though, not so much.
It’s hard to believe that the kids’ version of our favourite contest has been with us since 2003 already. It’s a lovely idea – what’s not to like about showcasing young songwriting and performing skills?
But it became clear pretty early on that the target audiences for Eurovision and its junior counterpart didn’t quite overlap. Yes, there’s still the flag-waving excitement of a national competition. There’s still the razzamatazz of an expensive, slick TV extravaganza. But it can all feel a bit… twee. Great for other showbiz-minded kids (I’d have loved it as a theatrical pre-teen) and cooing grandparents, but not quite the banger-factory Eurovision proper had become.
Irish Surprise
So, imagine my surprise when Ireland popped up this year with a song that made me rethink the whole shebang. The country has tasked Irish-language station TG4 with selecting its junior entry since its 2015 debut, which has meant a stream of non-anglophone entries that are joy to polyglots’ musical ears. In fact, Junior Eurovision has been flying the flag for non-English entries well into ‘daddy’ Eurovision’s broken English-heavy, post-language rule phase.
It turns out that Junior Eurovision is very much a contest of two camps. On one hand, you do have the saccharine, milk tooth and pigtails contingent (which often wins thanks to a seemingly sentimental jury vote). On the other, you have a more grown-up side to the contest with the slightly older kids entering sometimes quite sophisticated pop. And so it is with Ireland this year, represented confidently by Enya Cox Dempsey and the Eurovision-worthy Le chéile (Together).
It’s the kind of tune you can dance to. It’s a mature, well-produced mix. And it has hooks for days. This is no cookie-cutter junior bop—it’s a song that could hold its own on the adult stage.
In the end – perhaps predictably – it didn’t fare so well in the voting, ending up 15th out of 17 (again, it’s those sentimental juries). But it was fresh, catchy and authentic, and well worth adding to a Gaeilge pop playlist.
In any case, props to TG4 for providing a stream of Irish-language bops to a wider European audience. There’s a lesson here for the grown-up event: Eurovision needs to reclaim its roots and embrace more authentic language diversity.
It feels like we only just said goodbye to the last one, and another Eurovision Song Content has rolled around again. Once a veritable garden of languages, all competing broadcasters were re-granted a free choice of song language in 1999. Sadly (for linguaphiles) that’s meant English lyrics for the most part.
But linguistic diversity has found a way, too, and not just thanks to those hardy regulars like France, Italy, Portugal and Spain that almost never disappoint with home-language lyrics. The 2023 edition saw the welcome return of tongues long-missed on the Eurovision stage, like Finnish and Russian.
So how does 2024 measure up against that pretty high bar?
The Eurovision Language Contest 2024
Big Firsts
Notably, we have two language debuts at this year’s contest. Azerbaijan, entering since 2008 without a word of Azeri, finally treats us to a few words of this beautiful Turkic language in the entry Özünlə apar (take me with you). And from Australia, a competing member of the family since 2015, we have the uplifting song One Milkali (One Blood) featuring lyrics in Yankunytjatjara, a Pama-Nyungan language from Western Australia. Azeri and Yankunytjatjara may not feature as their full entry texts, but it is a beautiful thing to celebrate new languages on the Eurovision stage!
As an aside, as one commenting fan dubbed it, it’s that moment when Yankunytjatjara makes it to Eurovision before Scottish Gaelic and Welsh. We UK fans live in hope…
There’s a first for Armenian, too. While we’ve heard the language in previous entries, 2024 is the first time it will be the sole language of an Armenian entry. Jako has a world music fusion vibe, and a simple message of be yourself, which is a noble sentiment in any language.
Many Happy Returns
The it’s been TOO long! prize must go to Norway this year. Norway has sent a song with Swahili lyrics (2010) more recently than it has one på norsk (2006). The latter, Christine Guldbrandsen’s Alvedansen, didn’t even do particularly badly, so heaven knows what put them off.
This year, though, Norwegian folk metallists Gåte were the surprise vanquishers of fan favourites Keiino, pipping them to the Norwegian ticket with the song Ulveham and breaking the Norwegian drought. Its beautifully haunting arrangement builds on traditional Kulning calls from the mountain herds of Norway, featuring lyrics drawn from Telemark dialect.
While the return of Finnish was last year’s joy, its loss this year is tempered by the return of its close cousin, Estonian. The collaboration between 5miinust and Puuluup will present (Nendest) narkootikumidest ei tea me (küll) midagi (the crazily-titled We (sure) know nothing about (these) drugs), the first time Estonia has presented its national language since back-to-back eesti keel in 2012 and 2013. Incidentally, it wasn’t all English for Estonia in the interim – they achieved a solid top ten in 2018 with a song in Italian, of all tongues.
Going Dutch, Again
Dutch had fared similarly poorly in the anglophone takeover too – until recently. After one of many mid-noughties semifinal failures, the Netherlands ditched its national language following the 2010 contest. It took until 2022 for Dutch to pop up again, with considerable success – De diepte ended up of the left side of the scoreboard in the Torino contest. Two years later, Dutch is back again, this time with Joost Klein and Europapa.
Lithuania has also shied away from using its home tongue on the Eurovision stage. It took 21 years for the language to be heard again after a mediocre result in English and Lithuanian in 2001. But that return made the 2022 final, with Monika Liu scoring a solid result just outside the top ten. This year, Silvester Belt is aiming to do even better with the catchy Luktelk (Wait).
Greece will be looking to mirror that national language return to success, too. Greece’s last two attempts with full or partial Greek lyrics ended in very rare semifinal failure for the country, in 2016 and 2018. Marina Satti aims to be the first Greek-singing finalist since 2013, with a self-ironising, catchy, ethnopop banger.
Doubling Up
French and Spanish fans have an extra bite at the language cherry this year, and from perhaps surprising sources. Thanks to the return of Luxembourg to the contest – after an incredible 31 years away – we have a song with mixed French and English lyrics in the tally. As for Spanish, we can thank the Sammarinese win of Spanish rockers Megara for the fact that this year’s entry from the microstate will be in Spanish, not Italian or English.
Mixed Bag from the Balkans
We can always count on the Balkans for some non-anglophone fun at Eurovision. This year, we have, interestingly, two proper-name songs in Serbian Ramonda and Slovene Veronika. Only Albanian and Croatian lose out to English entries (although Croatia is doing very well for that as a pre-contest bookies’ favourite!).
The Hardy Annuals
And of course, we have our stalwarts, our indefatigable linguistic champions – France, Italy, Portugal and Spain. They’ve kept the national language flags flying almost without fail throughout the modern free-language era, and we should celebrate each of them for that. Italy in particular is a veritable feast of lyrics, with the hugely talented Angelina Mango firing them out in a fast-paced three minutes. Little wonder that she is also one of this year’s hot favourites for the top.
We might almost add Ukraine to this list, having not only sent, but won in Ukrainian in recent years. Ukraine opts for a cool mix this year with the duo Alyona Alyona and Jerry Heil.
And for the Germanists…
No consolation for the Germanists, this year – again. 2012 was the last time German – or at least a dialect of it – formed part of a Eurovision song lyric. That honour goes to Austria’s Woki mit dem Popo (pretty much shake your bumbum in Upper Austrian dialect), which failed to make the final that year.
Can you believe it’s been that long? Me neither. But there’s small consolation in the fact that Germany had a stonker of a song in their national final this year. Galant’s Katze (cat) may have fallen at the final hurdle, but it has all the makings of a cult classic.
Which are your favourite non-English entries this year? And which language do you yearn to hear again on the Eurovision stage? Let us know in the comments!
As the dust settles on another Eurovision Language (ahem) Song Contest, how did non-English entries actually perform on the night? There’s no better time than Eurovision Boxing Day to take stock (not least to try and distract ourselves from the post-contest blues).
The initial signs were good. The 2023 contest had already beaten 2022 in terms of language diversity, with fourteen languages on offer amongst the usual sea of English. And the semifinals didn’t deprive us of too much, either. All the non-English entries from the Tuesday show made it through, with only Romania falling at the first hurdle on Thursday. That was no issue for the Romanian language in any case, which had made it through on the back of the Moldovan entry.
So how did all that lovely non-English fare in the final?
A High Bar, Évidement
The bar was high. Of the twelve languages that made it alongside English in the 2022 final, seven ended up in the top ten – and four of those in the top five. Notably, the winner – Ukraine’s Kalush Orchestra – won the whole contest with a song in Ukrainian.
This year’s grand final saw five languages other than English land a prestige top ten spot. That sounds comparably decent, although one country, Czechia, added two extra languages thanks to its polyglot lyrics, and the winner, Tattoo by Loreen, was in English. Incidentally, Swedish has been absent from contest entries since 2012, when Finland sang in svenska – and Loreen won for the first time, in English.
It’s not all gloom for non-English songs, though. Finland, sending Finnish for the first time since 2015, achieved with its runner-up spot the highest placing in Eurovision history for the language (but not the country, which won in English in 2007). And of course, there is that remarkable multilingual entry from Czechia to celebrate.
Why sing in one language when you can sing in four?
English = Eurovision Success?
It’s worth remembering, though, that we needn’t consider English lyrics to be a path to wider success. Five out of the ten most recent winning Eurovision songs have been either completely, or partially, in other languages. That compares to just one non-English song from the decade before that, so we live in an age where language diversity is no barrier to victory.
Bearing that in mind, there’s perhaps a lesson here for some struggling countries. 2023 German representations Lord of the Lost took their last place for Blood and Glitter with great grace, passing on the baton to future German representatives to “break the curse”. But the last time Germany sent German was in 2007, with a string of notably anglophone songs behind its four-contest run of rock-bottom placings.
Guess what? It’s only Eurovision Song Contest time again. And with year’s final coming from lovely Liverpool this 13th May, it feels closer than ever for Polyglossic. What better time for our annual Eurovision language diversity health-check?
It’s been a long time since we were guaranteed a full sweep of national languages at the contest. That’s not to say linguists are out of luck in recent times, though. The 2022 edition still managed to serve up a not-bad-at-all eleven languages other than English.
So how does 2023 measure up?
Voici les votes du jury Polyglossic
This year, viewers will hear lyrics in the following languages across all three shows:
Albanian
Armenian
Bulgarian (in Czechia’s entry)
Croatian
Czech
Finnish
French
Italian
Portuguese
Romanian (twice over – in Moldova and Romania’s entries)
Serbian
Slovene
Spanish
Ukrainian (in Czechia’s entry as well as part of Ukraine’s)
2023 has it – that’s fourteen non-English languages represented on the banks of the Mersey.
Eurovision Thanks Go To…
As ever, it’s hats off to France, Italy, Portugal and Spain for being stalwarts of non-English entries. Merci, grazie, obrigado, gracias. But it’s the Balkans which have made an especially strong comeback this year, positively treating polyglot fans with home tongues. Then, there’s Czechia, who deserve an extra special mention. Vesna clock up two languages other than Czech, alongside English. Výborně!
Particularly exciting is the return of Finnish, given that Finland is one of this year’s big favourites to win (currently playing catch-up in the betting odds with Sweden’s returner Loreen). Finland has, of course, won the contest before; monster metalheads Lordi broke a 45-year wait for a win in 2006. But that was in English; if Suomi’s Käärijä wins this year, it will be the country’s first win in the home language.
Hyvä Suomi!
Which languages are you pleased to hear this year, and which do you miss? Let us know in the comments! But above all – enjoy this year’s show!
But of course, things have changed over the years. The language rule was relaxed in 1999, allowing countries to enter in languages other than their official ones. In practice, that meant English for almost everybody. That said, enough brave and proud souls still keep the languages coming. France, Italy, Portugal and Spain: I’m looking gratefully at you in particular!
Still, there are always a few extra tongues that sneak in each year. In fact, this year we’re spoilt, as the final will include:
Breton (for the second time for France, the last being in 1996)
Dutch (for the first time in a final since 1998)
Icelandic (most recently featuring in 2019 and 2013)
Italian
Latin (in the Serbian song – the last time being the repeated word Lapponia in Finland’s 1977 entry)
Lithuanian (for the first time since 1994 – unless you count Samogitian as a dialect, in which case 1999)
Portuguese
Romanian (thanks to Moldova)
Serbian
Spanish (including a little in Romania’s entry)
Ukrainian
Now call me an optimist, but that’s pretty good going for a competition which no longer enforces a language rule. And if we’re including the semis, we also had Albanian, Croatian, Greek and Slovene in 2022. Thumbs up to all those countries proving that English language participation still isn’t a given, even after 23 years of the free language rule.
In any case, however you are marking this great day, have a wonderful, joyful Eurovision.
Yes: thankfully, the world (well, Europe, at least) isn’t sleepwalking into an anglophone beige. It’s a welcome theme that ran through the whole week. A lot of it came from the Eurovision immersion, naturally. I spent a good chunk of time devouring home-spun news articles from my favourite countries and artists in the lead-up to Saturday’s final. I just love getting other takes on my favourite show, and most of the best ones aren’t in English.
But the whole jamboree (very appropriately) also coincided with the Polyglot Gathering. I spent a few great hours chatting and listening to talks online, switching from room to room, language to language, using everything but English. Proper multilingual merry-go-round stuff. The fun of it all got me thinking about how to de-anglify my life a little bit more.
Little Multilingual Things
One of the easiest, lowest-outlay, little things we can do, in order to dent the preponderance of English online, is produce more multilingual content ourselves. I follow some lovely folk on Twitter who regularly switch between a number of languages for status updates.
Side note: I realise the irony of me writing this blog in English right now. Ahem.
Anyway, these things are sometimes easier said than done. Namely, there are two hurdles to getting starting ab initio here:
A fear of alienating those followers who don’t understand the language of choice
A fear of making mistakes and looking silly (“you’re not a real polyglot, you fraud!”)
It’s easy to deal with the first quibble. Most platforms have a translation feature now, so an unfamiliar language is understandable with a single click. Twitter is great for this – I use the ‘translate tweet’ option so often that I completely take it for granted .
The second problem is a little harder to tackle, as it comes from a very human – and probably ubiquitous – place of wobbly self-confidence. But going back to the Polyglot Conference, it helps to remember how utterly supportive our language learning community is. I sat in a room for fluent Germanists on Thursday, and the acceptance of all levels of fluency really warmed the cockles of my heart. I’m sometimes one to clam up when I think my mistakes will show – especially with my stronger languages, for some reason – but I’ve never felt more at ease. It reminds me that polyglotism isn’t some lofty refuge of geniuses, but something we can all aspire to.
Making the Effort
In short, there are really no serious obstacles to extending this wonderful world where Italian, French and Ukrainian can take their places quite naturally next to the anglophonic behemoth. I’ll be making more of an effort to do just that over the coming weeks.
It’s an exciting week ahead for lovers of language and music. Firstly…
It’s Eurovision Week!
As you’ll know, my polyglot passions and love for the content are tightly intertwined, so Eurovision is a very special treat once a year. Even more so this year, since the 2020 event was cancelled due to the worsening Covid-19 situation. There will be a lot to celebrate in Rotterdam on Saturday the 22nd.
Since the free language rule was reintroduced in 1999, however, the non-English entries have dwindled. Saying that, there are still rich pickings for those eager for songs in other tongues. Italy and France are currently the top favourites to win – and both sung in the countries’ native languages. Malta, while mainly sung in English, is a vehicle for a very handy colloquial French phrase, “je me casse” (I’m outta here). And, admirably, Denmark has elected to sing in Danish this year, and what a catchy little synth bop it is, too. It has been quite a while since we last heard Danish sung at the contest!
I still keep my hand in writing about the contest, and you can follow my regular bookies’ roundup articles at esctoday.com. Have to keep on top of those odds!
The Polyglot Gathering (Online)
Appropriately, Eurovision week coincides with another jamboree of coming together in language and culture: the Polyglot Gathering. It’ll be my first, although I got great vibes from my inaugural Polyglot Conference in Slovenia too, and expect the level of linguistic revelry and ribaldry to be at least as high.
Due to the ongoing Coronavirus crisis, it will be quite a different gathering this year. Originally slated to take place in Teresin, Poland, it would have been the perfect opportunity to practise my Polish. Fortunately, the organisers have planned in a couple of online practice rooms for Polish learners, so I’ll still get my polski fix (as well as all the rest!).
It’s still not too late to register at the official site if it takes your fancy. I hope to see many of you there!
In Other Language News…
Oh – and bookshops are open to walk around and browse again where I am. It has been too long, friends. Absolute heaven. I hope you’ve experienced a bit of a return to the ‘good old days’ where you are, too. Long may things continue to improve!
Bravo, inventor of the three-minute, throwaway pop song. Not only does it provide a little well-needed escapist entertainment, but it also doubles as a fantastic little language learning tool.
I’m far from the first language learning aficionado to use music to learn, of course. Many learners arrive at a new language after first falling in love with its music. And countless language teachers regularly spice up their classroom lessons with a pinch of pop.
But why is the simple song such a great medium for vocab mining? Besides the sheer fun of it. Well, for one thing, your typical chart hit is a nice and concise text to work with. It is the embodiment of bite-sized.
Secondly, the language of popular music tends to be quite colloquial, and not too elevated. You can pick up some nice, common turns of phrase to use in conversation. That doesn’t stop it expressing some universal and familiar truths, though, as well as some lyrics that can provide lively talking points.
What’s more – and here is the clincher – pop music is just so incredibly accessible now. Where overseas music was once hard to get hold of, it is now just a YouTube or Spotify search away.
A Song for Europe
As far as prime examples go, nothing quite approaches the three-minute pop perfection of the Eurovision Song Contest entry. I have long had a deep-seated fondness for Eurovision songs as my learning tools of choice.
Also, an added benefit of choosing a Eurovision song is the excellent lyrics database Diggiloo Thrush, complete with translations and transliterations to tailor the material to any learner’s level.
But don’t let me badger you into choosing Eurovision (as if I needed any encouragement). Any song will do! After selecting one, Google for the lyrics, and begin to work through, line by line. As you move through the music, record each new term in your preferred practice / drill tool. Anki is always forever my go-to.
Adding colour to your conversation
Whatever your source, the nature of the song can provide some very colourful additions to your conversational repertoire. It is a fun game to toss out freshly memorised song lyrics to tutors mid-flow, and see how naturally (and imperceptibly!) they fit into the conversation – or not.
This can occasionally lend quite the philosophical slant to your chat. “Some of us, my friend, are the beggars of happiness” I mused to one perplexed tutor in the middle of a practice dialogue on buying train tickets. Yes, lyrics-fuelled lessons are nothing if not memorable (and salience of our active language learning material is something we should all strive for).
All Greek to Me
I currently find myself levelling up my Greek, first learned twenty years ago through Eurovision songs and island hopping. Music (much like food) simply has to play a part in any Greek learning plan, naturally. By way of example (and to spread the love), here is my working for a particularly favourite Eurovision song of mine, Cyprus’ underrated 1993 effort “Μη σταματάς” (Don’t Stop).
By going through the text systematically, you see how much high-frequency vocab you can mine from working with even the simplest of songs. And of course, you get the added memory bonus of having the words and phrases lodge in your head with a particularly sticky ear worm.
So without further ado… Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you the conductor, George Theofanous. Let the music (and learning) begin!
Μη σταματάς
Verse 1
Στη ζωή μας όλοι ερχόμαστε γυμνοί
In our life we all arrive naked
η ζωή – life έρχομαι (έρθω, ήρθα) – to come γυμνός – naked, bare
Ίδιο τέλος μας ορίζει και αρχή
The same end and beginning define us
ίδιος – same; own
το τέλος – end
η αρχή – beginning ορίζω – to define, designate
το βλέμμα – look, glance, stare (cf. βλέπω, to see) θολός – dim, cloudy, blurry σηκώνω – to lift up (cf., σηκώνομαι, to get up)
ο σταυρός – cross
I said it was bite-sized – three minutes of music doesn’t take long to work through. And there is some great, high frequency vocab to take away from that.
Deconstructing a favourite song
As you can see, deconstructing a favourite song in a foreign language does sometimes take the mystery away from it all a bit. Didn’t it all seem a bit more serious and credible before I translated it into complete banality? Now, it all sounds a little bit over-the-top. Walking past the debris? Everybody arriving naked? Hmm.
That said, I will always love this song, and not only for the extra vocab it’s given me. I adore how the lads are taking it all so seriously. I celebrate the oomph the backing trio are giving it. And I applaud the cheesy sax solo.
As a Eurovision-obsessed kid, I’d often let the contest dictate what language I’d learn next. Whether it was the languages of my favourite countries (Norway, Iceland, Poland) or the language of the winning country I’d travel to the following year (Estonia, Sweden), I’ve come into contact with dozens of different languages thanks to the contest.
Last night, Israel won in spectacular, clucking fashion, with the supremely fun “TOY“. So… next stop, Hebrew?
Well, I’ve been there before. It’s a nice full-circle moment for me with languages, as a lover of old Israeli entries. From my early teens, I was motivated to dive into Hebrew through foot-tapping Eurovision songs.
From that on-and-off dabbling with the language, I eventually managed to reach a slightly shaky A2 in it, although many years later! There is a lot to be said in favour of slow, gradual, no-pressure learning. And now, what better reason to pick it back up than a potential trip to the 2019 contest?
Where it all began
The whole saga takes me right back to where my interest in Modern Hebrew began – the very first Eurovision Song Contest I purposefully watched, back in 1993. Sometimes, you love songs less for their quality, and more for how they connect to your life. And as a 15-year-old language geek, I was fascinated by the awkward, quirky but loveable entry from Israel, “Shiru” (‘sing!’).
I was so full of questions. Who is the lady on her own? Why doesn’t she join the rest of the group like the piano lady? And why are they dressed like they’re going to a fairytale wedding? To tell you the truth, I still don’t know the answers.
After that contest, I raided our little local library in Stourbridge for any books on the language. The choice was a bit limited – much more on Biblical Hebrew than Modern, for example – but with the few resources I could dig out, I picked up the right-to-left script quickly enough. I was always a fan of code, and at that age, the Hebrew alphabet was like some mystical cipher.
I also happened across a real gem of a tome that I grappled with for years – a dusty, old and very analytical volume on Hebrew verb paradigms. A lofty academic text, that was really beyond my understanding at the time. But it was like dark magic to me – a secret rule book that would open doors to great understanding if I spent time with it.
Of course, that was my first introduction to a non-Indo-European language. No wonder it was so fascinating – it was utterly different to the French and German I was learning at school. Verbs behave completely differently in Semitic languages, and the quirks had me hooked.
All that – from a chance encounter with a Eurovision song!
Yes, the contest can be whacky and just plain odd at times. But it has led me into so many language adventures – I’m quite happy to let that continue!
I’ve written recently about learning a language through your interests. By binding your life’s passions with your learning goals, something special ignites. Living the dream as a language learner is all about throwing everything into it, about living life to the max, but through the language. And this weekend, I got the chance to do just that in Oslo.
I’ve always loved music, big arena events and the excitement of live TV. Add languages to that, and it’s no surprise that Eurovision has been a fascination of mine from an early age. Some countries are closer than other when it comes to sharing this love. Fortunately, for me, one of them is Norway – pretty handy for a Norwegian learner! So, what better reason to come to Norway than a couple of tickets for Norway’s Eurovision preselection show, Melodi Grand Prix?
Slice of life
It’s no longer just about the songs, of course – nine out of ten of the entries this year were in English, not Norwegian. But being part of such a big event of national interest drags you straight into the centre of the Norwegian microcosm. You see a real slice of life, being a popular family event; surrounded by cheering, proud citizens of all ages and backgrounds gives you a lovely feel of what it’s like to be a part of Norway.
More importantly, there’s the chance to chat. There’s something about a concert that breaks down barriers, and it was easy to swap opinions and discuss favourites with people sitting nearby. In fact, it was pretty unavoidable, once your cover is blown as an utlending (foreigner)… Everybody wants to know what you think of their national songs!
Melodi Grand Prix 2018
Dip in, dip out
Unless you are moving to a country to live, it is hard to embed yourself fully in social and cultural life. But this kind of intense dip-in, dip-out relationship can be a real shot in the arm for language learners. With Norway, of course, high costs dictate that visits (for now) are generally short weekend trips like this. But it’s enough to feel part of something, to keep passion alight, and to make friends that will slowly fasten you to your target language lands.
Choose your dream – and live it
This is what living my language learning dream looks like. Now, seek out what you love about your chosen cultures, and throw yourself headfirst into it. You will construct deep and rewarding connections that will last well beyond you have reached proficiency in a language.
The weekend inspired me to reflect on my experiences as a shy learner of Norwegian. Hear my thoughts below!
