Saara starts the song on an op-art knife-thrower's wheel, before getting down to get down with her backing dancers (who are all wearing Hugo Boss uniforms and bondage harnesses, naturally). The chorus neatly prefigures Norway's popular "Spirit in the Sky" from the following year, but Saara's spirit is of an altogether more earthy nature.

Here we have two women in their underwear and overcoats, flanked by some typically early-'90s black male dancers busting some rad moves as if they were the London Boys or something. The song is suitably dark in tone and the rule-bending English chorus is adequate enough, making it one of the stand-out tracks of the year. You will notice that we thought rather more of its merits than Europe did at the time.

In 1969, Finland made a full on attack on any dancing embargo that might exist by including a cane-swinging, leg-swaying instrumental break for the charismatic ragtime duet of Jarkko (or is it Beck?) & Laura. You will notice that we thought rather more of its merits than Europe did at the time.

It'd been coming for many years (44 in fact) and in 2006 it finally arrived: a Finnish victory! We knew that when it happened it would be in style (they won with a record haul of 292 points). Their entry draws to a certain extent on the winning example of Ruslana two years previously, albeit cubed. The title of the piece is "Hard Rock Hallelujah" though the performance owes little to the Israeli classic. It marks the effective debut of metal to Eurovision, delivered with a Strepsil-craving growl. Oh, and the band, Lordi, are dressed as monsters (a subtle but important detail). Despite being covered in latex boils and little horns, our lead singer looks an awful lot like Roy Wood, and the novelty Finnish hat is a lovely touch to the costume. All of the band look pretty rough, most amusingly the keyboardist: she looks rather hopeless and pathetic, and has evidently fought against her illness with such bravery. As we embrace "the day of Rockening", it becomes apparent that beyond all the costumes and face-paints (and knees of glowing embers), this is actually quite a good song. And then Roy opens his bat-like wings and from that point on their victory seems beyond question. Lordi are the Bucks Fizz of the 2000s; in fifteen years there'll still be bad-skinned entries opening up their wings, just as there were still the likes of Croatia tearing off their skirts in 2006.

Finland were quick to follow Sweden's lead into a world of made-up words; the dark-eyed Marion Rung providing this year's glossolalia. "Tipi-tii" is basically "Sing Little Birdie" but with the whistling replaced by onomatopœia. The result is an internationally accessible chorus: tipi-tii tipi-tipi-tipi-tii / tipi-tii tipi-tipi-tipi-tii. The nonsense sing-along was unleashed.

Eleven years later, Finland reverted to the lingua-franca of nonsense onomatopoeia (and also English), for the charmingly cheery, up-beat and furiously energetic "Tom Tom Tom", again with the mistress of silly words: Marion Rung.

A Eurovision legend entered the game in 1966: the regular Finnish conductor Ossi Runne. He not only conducted this entry but also wrote it. "Playboy" is a cheeky piece of slinky, brassy pop entertainingly delivered by Anne Christine Nyström. In chronological terms it was also the first Finnish entry to top the AView vote.

And so we come to the real meat... In 1976, Finland, already a nation of modest interest to us, made an all-out declaration of their intent to greatness with Fredi & The Friends. Fredi is a man the size of a small car, with a lovely mop of hair, sparkly lapels and a medallion. He first represented Finland in 1967, when we gave him three points for his (somewhat more serious) efforts. For this song, "Pump-Pump", he is joined by his Friends: three young ladies in salmon pink, a pianist (with a look of Sandi Toksvig) and a somewhat incongruous Volvo driver. It would be easy to dismiss "Pump-Pump" as a throwaway novelty entry, but for the crucial fact that it is not only a good performance but also a good song; from the epic scope of the piano-led '70s art-rock verse to the joyously silly, arse-banging chorus: "Let your hip go hippety pump-pump".

Always the bridesmaid... Placing the top two was always going to be hard for us, and over-familiarity with this old favourite was perhaps all that stood between itself and what some may have anticipated to be a de-facto national victory. Monica Aspelund, a sort of cross between Inger Berggren and Marion Rung from the 1962 contest, puts in a truly breathtaking performance: lots of expressive eyes and twisting arm gestures, some frosty breathing and a blood-curdling scream. All the while, a Haino lookalike looks on from the piano. Even if one could somehow ignore the brilliant Aspelund, the song itself, nationalistically entitled "Lapponia" is a great piece of work, with its clappy, timp-laden chorus and some fantastic string arrangements, not to mention the incongruous, melodramatic instrumental section and the doo-wop bit that precedes that scream (that scream...). But Aspelund makes a great song into something extra special. There is no way on Earth that it is possible to resist mimicking Monica's moves. Only the armless can sit impassive. Eurovision doesn't get much better than this, which is why we put it second in our all-time Top 10.

So it is that Monica is pipped to our top-spot by her little sister, Ami, in what has proved to be another amazingly tight chart. The song, possessed of some considerable Abba-ishness, cracks open with a "Holding Out For A Hero" introduction and is full of icy little flourishes and stabs, one of which sounds like the Crystal Maze (indeed, perhaps it is Crystal Maze nostalgia that fuels our love of this so). The orchestration is bang on; the pounding rhythm always a welcome part of our jury's 'winning formula' such as we have one. The key change is particularly well put together, with a false start. Easily the best moment comes at the end of the first chorus, when the three male backing vocalists (seemingly in striped mittens) lean, mysteriously, into the spotlight and deliver their sinister interjection only to be pulled back to the upright by the powerful attractive force of Aspelund's ridiculously broad peplum: so hippy that it makes the poor woman waddle like a duck. She, like her sister, delivers some great gestures and eye movements (many of which are only just caught by the camera) and the whole thing is just fantastic, as is appropriate (the promo video is great too). It is our favourite entry by one of our favourite Eurovision nations.