It kicks off like one of those entho-wailers from the middle of the last decade. And then the first verse kicks in and it sounds like someone tried (and failed) to take Serbia back to the Željko Joksimović years.
There will be those who love its nostalgic sound – a nice way to describe what sounds to me like derivative dated nonsense. All I hear is wobbly wailing, tedious drums and generic male vocals. In all honesty, I’d struggle to call this a song. It’s a piece of music. Unremarkable music at that.
The running order suggests an extended toilet break early in the second semi-final as this song finds itself sandwiched between the cheery Romanian suicide rocker and an utter fiasco courtesy of San Marino.
It’s awful.
