Out in Romania, they shipped the whole caboodle out to a provincial theatre in the sticks for a charade of a national final. The act who won more public votes than the other eleven competing acts combined ended up scoring just low enough on the jury ballot to miss out on the big win by a whisker - losing out to the song that everyone said was going to win in the first place. Hmm, is that a whiff of haddock wafting in from the mountains there?
But all of this politics is of little import when you see the gem of a tune that closed the national selection. The delightfully named Hardjok, looking every bit like a minicab driver popping in for sing song between calls, whipped straight into the noodly prog folk guitaring, while some half-hearted folk dancers skipped about behind him.
But then it took a turn for the stranger as it hit a full on rustic Slayer moment, with a speed metal middle chunk that left the dancers struggling to catch up. Who needs Paula and Ovi when you've got something this sublime? Romania, you've missed a trick again!
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