This one is for Duncan

I don't really know where to start. Maybe with the fact that yesterday – never thought I would write this sentence – I seriously watched the Song Festival with a lump in my throat. What we hoped for happened. We have... won. Not by doing a chicken dance or sending a woman with a beard: just by making music that touches.

It's unprecedented how a 25-year-old guy, so focused on his own musicality, convinced two hundred million people around the world that the Song Festival is more than a political game of musical chairs. Where acts are often walking diplomatic missions, disguised with glitter, high notes, and douze points, Duncan's priorities always lay with the music. He made a song so intensely sensitive that the world couldn't ignore it. Duncan fired away and shot straight into the heart.

The irony is that a few months ago I wrote the article Who the heck is Duncan? and now he has made himself internationally more famous in one fell swoop than Anouk, André Rieu, and Martin Garrix combined. I quote myself: ‘Duncan Laurence sounds like the pseudonym of Dotan, like Dunkin’ Donuts, silly silly.’ But I also quote: ‘This sounds so international that I suddenly understand why a relatively unknown is sent into the lion's den. Duncan is an artistic dude and can sing incredibly high and will really show that if he’s smart.‘ And oh yes, he did.

REALIZE: WE. HAVE. JUST. WON. DJEEZ.

Goodness, so much happened yesterday, right? The former winners singing each other's songs. Conchita's outfit, the please-don't-let-the-chicken-woman-come thoughts – oh crap there she is… The intense banners and BDSM outfits from Iceland, the false screams of Madonna who really has had her best time (and we seriously recommend her to take autotune lessons from Famke Louise). The brilliant comment that Emma Wortelboer then made about it. The same Emma Wortelboer who seemed to be handing out points with a lick of MDMA behind her teeth. ‘HELLOOOOO GUYS LOOOKING GOOOOOOOD’. Um, in a few years we can laugh about it together. Also about that pink Pino suit.

Anyway, back to the star of the evening. The almost-crying moment for me was the zoomed-in image of Ilse DeLange who could only nod yes, yes, yes with her proudly pulled down corners of her mouth while watching Duncan. ‘Wow... It worked?!?!’, those were the first semi-dry words from Jan Smit and Cornald Maas before they burst into cheers. They almost didn't know how to react when it turned out that Sweden (honestly: the Big Friendly Giant really had winner potential) had to concede to our brilliant song. We have just – excusez le mot – fucking made history. Next year the Song Festival will be held with us and I think it's insane.

When asked why he won the song festival, Duncan replied: ‘I hope it was the music, the lyrics, the story. And the performance, all the work of the team. I hope that was it.’

Dear Duncan, sweet little guy who could hardly find his words after the win. That was definitely it. You couldn't have represented the Netherlands better. We are all Ilse-De-Lange-proud of you.

A broken heart is all that’s left
I’m still fixing all the cracks
Lost a couple of pieces when
I carried it, carried it, carried it home

I’m afraid of all I am
My mind feels like a foreign land
Silence ringing inside my head
Please, carry me, carry me, carry me home….