Marina Satti – Epano Sto Trapezi

Dave takes us back to Europe, specifically Greece…

[Video]
[6.50]Dave Moore: Marina Satti is one of my current favorite symbols of our era of omnidirectional global pop promise, major and minor stars forming, blooming, or behemothing from seemingly everywhere in the world, in this case an Arab-Greek classically trained pianist and Berklee graduate putting her considerable chops toward unpretentious pop bangers. Satti’s big breakthrough was 2024 Eurovision, where her combination of reggaeton and Balkan pop sounded uncharacteristically forward-thinking. Her material afterward has occasionally pushed further: omnivorous, confrontational, irreverent. This one, maybe my favorite song of hers to date, puts me in mind of all-time Singles Jukebox Controversy champ “Cannibal” by Kesha, even before I saw the video (er, cw: cannibalism). A Jersey club-patterned electrothrob punctuated with occasional klezmer horns intensifies until the music clears and there’s a near-acapella climax that puts what I’d guess is still only an ounce of her classical training to use. A butterfly flutters above the waves and then — squash.
[9]

Ian Mathers: It’s the little things that make this one stand out for me: an unusually good, fun video; an unexpectedly lovely and soft bridge that slams right back into the harsher rest of the song; boshing.
[8]

Jel Bugle: Hmmmm, it’s an enjoyable song, very Eurovision, I like the flute sounds and the slow bit.
[7]

Claire Davidson: As someone who has never followed Eurovision very closely, I must admit to not being familiar with Marina Satti’s name. She’s certainly a superstar in her native Greece, though: “Epano Sto Trapezi” went platinum there, and judging by the media criticism Satti lambasts in her lyrics, she’s clearly been a fixture of public interest for some time. Given how charged the song’s lyrical content is, though, referencing panic attacks and Satti’s constant feeling of “falling to pieces,” it’s odd how small “Epano Sto Trapezi” actually feels in scale. Satti’s delivery is monotone to the point of sounding dead-eyed, even when she tries to sound confrontational, and the song’s pinched synth melody and muffled bass knocks never rise to the level of catharsis she attempts to viscerally channel. One of the song’s only English lines sees Satti compare herself to a butterfly; perhaps this image would be more convincing if the track provided her with a more defined shape surrounding her, in order for her to truly break through that chrysalis.
[5]

Iain Mew: I was disappointed to find out that in the English bit Satti says “I’m a wreck walker” and not, in fact, “I’m a rare quokka”. That’s the only thing that is disappointing, though, between her exuberant performance and a pleasingly filthy sounding beat.
[8]

Katherine St. Asaph: Part of this goes sinuous and hard. Part of this sounds like performing “I Like to Move It” in a farting competition.
[4]

Will Adams: Has the makings of an A-list Obnoxious Banger but never quite commits to a hook. The “BUCK IT UP” chant over the blaring synth works best; the sudden, stately breakdown provides a cute fake-out; the rest is content to coast over some buzzy electro.
[5]

Nortey Dowuona: “Nobody’s talking; they’re on another TV channel, searching something to eat, they’re watching the war.” The hinges on the doors of information on the many dueling cruelties in the world continue to be blown off, yet the conflicts rage on with no help from the outside or inside forthcoming. You can do like I have just done and find four identical conflicts to fit into this translation, but the overwhelming nature of all this news would just force you into a defensive crouch. This song, however cannot do this, or even render the frustration and despair that leads to said panic attack, just shift frequently between tones and arrangements, with producers OGE, Nick Kodonas and Mediopicky trying their damnedest to put across what Satti has perfectly put on paper or in text. The only novel and classically beautiful moment is the bridge, filled with bright strings, and once it is snapped away back to the original assembly, the panic still cannot grip you. Even if it was, you are still too numb to feel a thing.
[6]