Silke: among the many "attractive young man sings a ballad" songs this year, this one's the best. Seated at a piano, Duncan begins in a hesitant falsetto — but when he hits the refrain, it's like sunrise! The song stays catchy even at its most dramatic moments. And this guy looks fabulous. He's been the favorite of many for weeks. How about Amsterdam in 2020?

Rick: The homeland of pop might just break its long string of bad luck years at the Eurovision Song Contest. Slightly chubby and a bit awkward, Michael Rice is anything but a streamlined ESC entry. But that wonderfully nuanced soul voice! In "Bigger Than Us," he gives it his all — and yet, paradoxically, one feels that he can even build on that in the week leading to the finale.

Silke: Yippie! A dance number — reggaeton with electro beats and proper singing. Michela will dance onstage before a backdrop of walls that, like a chameleon, constantly change color. Even the song itself keeps on changing its style. An official dancefloor hit, but without the racket: cool, easy and something you want to get up and move to.

Rick: Citing Mahmood's Egyptian father, members of the Italian government questioned his eligibility to represent Italy at Eurovision. Well, Mahmood is unquestionably Italian, musically too. With a title translating as "Money," the song is about a troubled father-son relationship. Seldom have pain and bitterness been more beautifully expressed — and the refrain goes round and round in the head.

Silke: To me, the prettiest number of all. The quartet with double bass delivers the song completely poised, offering an oasis for nerves rattled by the loud competition. It reminds me of Norah Jones' "Sunrise." I truly hope that the ESC audience will acknowledge that and give Latvia a solid standing in the upper region of the Top 10.

Rick: In "Fire of Love," four girls from Poland deliver folk in their native tongue (hurray!). The native costumes are a fit and a foil for that completely crazy, shrill, flipped-out sound. The blend of voices is uniform but never monotonous, and you don't have to understand Polish to realize that the sum result has an ironic touch. There's nothing quite like this entry.

Silke: Last year in Lisbon, Eleni Foureira generated waves of enthusiasm with the song "Fuego" — and took second place. So all eyes and ears are trained on Cyprus again. This time it's Tamta singing "Replay." A replay of the island nation's success? If she delivers a good performance, it should stand out in memory, even though she's first up in the show.

Rick: Amidst so much mediocre, consensus-building fare, I find this industrial rock song titled "Hate Will Win" with its anti-capitalistic message liberating. From the depths of the soul, Hatari scream out an unadorned uprising against lies and deception. These guys have picked up on what a lot of people at the grass roots are thinking these days — and they express it unambiguously.

Silke: As in 2016, he'll perform on an elaborate set with many special effects. This time the song is less impressive, but that doesn't hide the fact that Sergey is definitely the best singer in this year's lineup. He wends his way through three octaves of vocals with unbelievable ease. The chorus at the end is reminiscent of a metal power ballad. I'm pleased.

Rick: The voice and the instrumental accompaniment absolutely don't fit — and that's done brilliantly. The polytonality and baffling turns of musical phrase are very appealing, as are the crazy costumes and hysterical dancing. Translated, the song is titled "Cell Phones." I can't get enough of it and award my 12 points for Portugal's courage in entering this one.

Rick: Scandinavians know the recipe for a winning ESC song, right? But what happens if you squeeze every hackneyed formal into a single song? This. KEiiNO has a female vocalist who sings off-key and a male who attempts traditional yoik singing but also misses the mark. A monotonous refrain, fire and drums are thrown in for good measure. A potpourri of bad taste.

Silke: I tried. Honestly, I did. Some songs require a little extra effort. But in this tone collage, nothing fits. Peculiar chiming and wailing vocals — is that supposed to sound like fado singing somehow? Putting a number like this on the ESC stage takes a lot of guts. Maybe that will earn it some points. But not mine.

Rick: People in the land I call my home may never forgive me for this, but somebody has to say it: The song is nice if a bit contrived, but the duo specially put together for the ESC and the material they deliver are all strategy and zero authenticity. With 41 countries participating, will this one even make it into the Top 40? I'm not so sure.

Silke: It's a love story and they wrote it themselves. But, sorry, it just doesn't grab me. They sing it in their native tongue to gentle electronic accompaniment. Nothing wrong with that. But this introverted singing gets on my nerves, and after three long minutes, I'm glad it's over.

Rick: Representing all the young women heaving out sweeping ballads underlined by grand gestures and much tossing of hair — there are several this year — Nevena Bozovic and her song titled "Crown." The 24-year-old veteran of casting shows has sat on various ESC juries, so she'd seem to be a product of the ESC machine, yet even its own website describes Serbia's entry as "playing it safe."

Silke: Too bad! To me, this is the biggest disappointment of the season! In the 90s, DJ Darude landed one of the greatest techno hits of all times, and the durability of "Sandstorm" lasts to this day. But this? A mediocre song and a mediocre singer. Sorry boys, but not even that good name will propel you beyond the semifinale.

Rick: What would Eurovision be without San Marino? Or rather: What would San Marino be without Eurovision? The country you otherwise never hear about. I think the San Marinos will persevere at the ESC until they finally win. But not this time. The title "Say Na Na Na" says it all, i.e., nothing. In a field of mediocrity, the most mediocre piece.

Silke: Serhat is actually a charismatic guy and a good crooner. Like a gallant entertainer, he moves around in his white suit amidst handsome dancers also clad in white. His voice purrs like a contented cat. But what are they trying to achieve with this shallow little pop number that has all the seriousness of a pink bouncy ball from the 90s? I say three times NO.

Rick: OK, I go to operas so I should like this one, right? Wrong. After hearing this breathy, off-pitch voice, I read that Kate Miller-Heidke is a successful operatic singer. If that means that she's making herself sound worse than she should here, there's no forgiving that. And the concept of "opera singer singing opera in an over-dimensioned dress" was lifted from Estonia's entry last year.

Silke: Attached to poles, three women in long dresses soar this way and that, high above a fog-drenched stage. The effect isn't comical, it's ridiculous. This is the setting for Kate's delivery of a pop-opera song in the upper soprano range. It's vaguely reminiscent of Mozart's Queen of the Night, but overall, it's just dreadful.