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So we have our first song for Lisbon, and it isn't half bad, actually. Eugent Bushpepa's buildy pop rock ballad may have no discernible chorus, but it's got atmosphere by the bucketload, and an irresistible whoa-whoa chorus that will encourage metaphorical lighters in the air before the second minute is out.
After my crushing disappointment at learning that my two aggregations of old blokes didn't even make the final, and then my concern that some of the frocky horror lady ballads were going to nip it after some enormous crowd reactions, I began to feel more confident after the boy here got a bigger cheer on than most other songs got on their way off the stage.
But then I got the fear again as I saw the jury - a busload of middle-aged men in sobre suits and sombre expressions, two out of place ladies and one of the Allman Brothers. But somehow his soaring high notes and optimistic chord progressions won over the old boys and bagged him the ticket to Portugal. And while it's no overall winner, it's got jury bait written all over it, and could well see them comfortably into the final. It's certainly quite unlike anything Albania have ever sent before, and shouldn't need too much of an upgrade over the festive season, so we're looking forward to seeing how well it performs.