The dear old Festival da Canção is always an entertaining affair. There's rarely a song on offer that you'd ever want to hear again in your life, of course, but it's got a distinctly quaint old world charm that always makes it a delight to watch. Last evening's semi-final was no exception.
Actually they've upped their game a little this year and offered us some songs from genres popular in the last 15 years for a change. There was a flimsy bit of African good time, a good looking young lass turning out a plodding indie pop rocker and an inexplicable bloke at an electric piano with car bumpers on his shoulders singing a song that sounded like it came from a trendy teacher's school play. In the eighties.
But streets ahead of the rest came this sultry belter. It's actually, and I realise this is a strange concept to grasp, a pretty decent song, and Yola here can certainly hammer out the high notes. Of course it qualified comfortably. There'll have to be something pretty special in the second semi-final to keep this away from Vienna. And what are the chances of that happening?