Copenhagen 2014 - The Final of the Eurovision Song Contest

And lo, all hail Conchita Wurst. Our little Österreichy sausage did riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise like a phoenix - to victory, flipping a beautifully manicured V sign at intolerance and hate.   

It was a great winner's speech too - you'd expect nothing less from a Miss Eurovision win.  For me, Conchita nailed it by being a) gimmicky, yes – she’s a skinny bitch diva with a perfect beard, but also b) she has lungs of steel.  She power-balladed that Eur007vision song in a way that took the audience completely by surprise, stunning Europe into voting their little socks off.  Even the Easties!!!

It was actually a rather good year for actual musicianship (I know, I know) – the Netherlands took silver by gleaming musical talent.  They may have missed out on the crown (and we may have missed out on Amsterdamage 2015), but their iTunes sales are apparently rather healthy just now.

But how did the Big Five do?  Welllllllll....

Germany

Stocky Brigette Nielsen and her lady-accordionist and lady-bassist friends churn out an oompa-dirge.  Are floral jackets with leatherette patching plus tutus and leggings really all the rage in Berlin this year?

Douze points for: performing directly after Conchita and not just breaking down in “OH WHAT IS THE POINT?!?” tears.

France

DEUX POINTS!! DEUX measly POINTS!!  Robbed!!!  I loved this one, and not just because of my Gallic blood. I found it hilarious, irreverent, catchy... and who can resist hipster irony outright eating itself.  Not only did TwinTwin have an excellent dance routine (Guitarists one and two swap places, then the entire band walks stage left, then stage right. And repeat.), but it involved three twins!  Twin 1: triangle waffro.  Twin 2: curly receding hairline mullet.  Twin 3: erm, black.  Anyway, the three twins of TwinTwin can totally join my Lena and Pollapönk pub crawl. (Though I concede they may get a leeeetle bit annoying after, oooh, five minutes?)

Douze points for: moustache love in the year of the beard.

Italy

All rawk screech and no trousers: buongiorno upskirting.  Mind you, if you’ve seen Italian TV, you'll know that lady buttocks are not an unfamiliar sight.  Not even excess kohl and a Cesar headdress could save this hot mess. 

Douze points for: Pffff.  Um.  There was a keytar on stage.

Spain

Ex-X Factor senorita Ruth Lorenzo absolutely belts it – apparently she bust a speaker in the press room.  And no, that wasn't actually greasy, unwashed hair, but a wet look to represent THE RAIN THE RAIN THE RAIN.

Douze points for: THE RAIN THE RAIN THE RAIN.

United Kingdom

Oh Molly – it had all the potential, but just fell a bit flat at the final hurdle.  It was my favourite song pre-contest, but the performance was just a bit too rabbit-in-headlights – possibly she was shocked by the sudden realisation that she’d allowed herself to be styled in a head-necklace, Rum Tum Tigger shawl, golden tinfoil space dress and slutty Grecian sandal-boots, all matched with an essentially motionless ‘I’M MEDITATING LOOK AT ALL THIS HENNA’ dance routine.   Shame.

Douze points for: being OH SO close.  Maybe next year...

As for our hosts...

Denmark

Thing is, we mocked Belarus for the cheeseycake dance routine and Robin Thicke (total dick) rip-off-ness, but this...  well, I’m not convinced it’s so different.  Maybe it’s more at the Bruno Mars' end of wearing a suit and man-dancing.

Douze points for: Denmark striking the right balance between looking like you’re making an effort, but definitely not being so good that you might risk having to pay for the whole thing two years in a row.

As for the rest...

·       There was an extensive build up for... a racist joke about Asia.
·       But I still fancied Pilou.
·       Hello glow-in-the dark ladder dancing!
·       To a folk-choir cover of Ode To Joy. 
·       THE EUROVISION THEME IS TE DEUM, DUDES.
·       Oh well, Ode To Joy still a Europe-y song, innit.
·       In your face, Farage!
·       I’d like to visit the Eurovision Museum PLEASE.
·       Lise turned out to be a WEIRD Facestalker.
·       And tried to feed Molly a poisoned cake from “Borough Market”.
·       The camera panned the crowd and THERE WAS A WOMAN THERE!

There was also an excellent moment when all the performers joined together on stage and TwinTwin dance-sandwiched Emelie de Forest, Slovenian flute lady brandished her flute at one of the Polish harlotty lovelies, Ukraine and Armenia had an IN YOUR FACE RUSSIA boogie and Conchita lip-synced at the Russian twins, whilst Eurovision Royalty Man Johnny ‘I have a melty plastic face these days’ Logan looked on.  THEY MUST DO THIS EVERY YEAR.

Time for a quick aside about the voting?  Oh go on - I'm no fan of the televoters' general taste, but it's not on for the UK to (depressingly) phone-vote for Poland more than any other country, yet for that to not even register on the UK's scoring.  The jury-televote balance needs to be redressed, even if that does result in BOOB SUCCESS.  *sigh*

But overall, a brilliant year.  To Conchita and beyond!  See you next year.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Vienna.   

GOOD TIMES!

May Countdown to Copenhagen: Malmö 2013

(The main thing this year I learned was how to pronounce 'Mal-muuuuurrrhhh'.)

My track record at predicting the winner is... Mixed.  It's usually fifty-fifty on whether Europe and I will see eye to eye on who should be victorious.  But with Only Teardrops it was a 'no boner', as a family friend once malapropped (it has since entered into family folklore and we will never say 'no brainer' again).  From the very first panpipe, we all knew this had victory written all over it. That it was fronted by a sexyhippy Scandi in bare feet and backed by sexymilitary Scandis with shaggy hair was just a bonus (no boner).  Def one of my Top 5 Winners.

As for the UK, after Poor Englebert, it was Poor Bonnie - regardless of its feelings about the Total Eclipse Of Her Heart, when it came to Believe In Me, Europe lost its faith. The song was ok - a forgettable ballad, but it was never going to pass muster in amongst the cray-cray class of 2013.

Perhaps Bonnie would have been better off recreating her mug-based vodkathon from Never Mind The Buzzcocks.  That might have been able to compete with a Finnish lesbian wedding; a Romanian - Moldovan elevating dress off (clear popera victory for Cezar); an Azeri man trapped in a box; an actual Ukrainian giant, and Greeks in kilts offering free booze.

There were also some genuinely brilliant pop gems sneaked in this year which might have rivalled Teardrops, had the live performances not missed the mark, compared to the recorded versions.  This slinky Norwaymazingness didn't quite translate to the live show, in spite of a Scandiwegian beauty in a white rubber tube dress. And compare and contrast Germany's  Euphoria rip-off, I mean, tribute live (ouch) with its recorded version - add in the auto-tune and it's suddenly GLORIOUS. 

GOOD TIMES!

Copenhagen 2014 – Semi final #2

Malta

The Maltese Von Trapps, cause they're all siblings YOU SEE – though given that they look not at all alike, I'm thinking there were a range of wombs involved in their making. It's inoffensive folky pop, where the climatic moment is the lead brother taking hold of a mini guitar and starting to strum – HIGH DRAMZ.

Douze points for: yer Malteser spinning his double bass (yes, that's barrel scraping right there.)

Israel

A sturdy Jewish Kate Winslet who smokes fifty a day (that is one deeeeeep voice).  Her lady backing dancers have all the charm of trained assassins - in leotards.  Now there's an idea for an HBO series.

Douze points for: the incomprehensible lyric “I'm skinning you out.”

Norway

A Viking, clearly unused to having his beard groomed, sings something akin to the theme from The Bridge. It's rather haunting, actually - which means I have no jokes.

Douze points for: being *whispers* quite good.

Georgia

Awful – and not in a hilarious way. It's the musical equivalent of being at Shit Georgian Woodstock on the worst LSD trip ever where your only 'friends' are a mulleted accountant, Hippy Grotbags and a dude inexplicably attached to a parachute.

Douze points for: the BBC subtitle team and the hilarious, yet accurate, descriptor: “HE YODELS”.

Poland

Oh yay, let's watch feminism take a Polish smack in the face - with a catchy song, to add insult to injury.  In case the song's lyrics, encouraging Slavic women to “shake what their mamas gave them”, wasn't enough, the 'let's reduce women to their tits' message is reinforced by, oh look - reducing women to their tits, whilst carrying out domestic chores.  Brilliant!  It's basically Nuts styling Little House On The Prairie. “Ooooh look at my boobs churn butter” said the Milkmaid.  “Ooooh look at my boobs mangle laundry” responded the  Washerwoman.  Truly depressing.

Douze points for: No.

Austria

At least we can take solace in the thought that those still thinking about taking the image of Polish Washertits to their (blatantly single) beds with them, to have a polish of their own, were suddenly confronted with a more complex image of feminine beauty.  Welcome Eurovision legend to be, Conchita Wurst – the drag glamazon with the perfectly manicured beard. And man, the beard can sing.  Conchita knocked it out of the arena with a soaring orchestral number: Eur007vision. (And we all know that if Eurovision really did do Bond, the love interest would be exactly this: a stick thin ladyman Kim Kardashian with immaculate facial hair.)

Douze points for: looking like Jesus in a ballgown and singing like Burly Chassis herself.

Lithuania

More dub step – but they've upped the shouty, as well as adding a leather tutu and plastic hair with a static life of its own.  The lady singer also has her own dance gimp and electric blue rubber leggings, so it was impressive stuff really, given the chaffing potential.

Douze points for: single-handedly funding Vilnius' talc industry.

Finland

Entirely assexual teenage guitar boyband. When they grow up they want to be Coldplay. For now, they are a sixth form garage band in shiny silver jackets.

Douze points for: deciding Eurovision is the best place for a band where the target demographic is 100% pubescent girls.

Ireland

All the elements of Riverdance performed by the cast of Towie. The Irish Eurovision glory days (including My Lovely Horse) seem very, very far away. 

Douze points for: the scaffolding behind her Wond-O'Bra. That is quite some push-up on her Jedwards.

Belarus

Little makes me chuckle like the Belorussian take on Western 'cool'. This year we've got the Belarussian Robin Thicke singing the following lyrics:

“Once I gave you one more chance

You showed me dance.

But I’m not Patrick Swayze

You’re not Jennifer Gray.

I lost my train of thought

When you called me 'My sweet Cheesecake'.

I look over Google Maps trying to escape

Cause I’m tired of being your sweet cheesecake”.

Douze points for: DID YOU NOT READ THOSE LYRICS?

FYR Macedonia

If you saw Tuesday's BBC3 footage, you'll have met singer Tijana at halftime, where she stole the backstage show by mocking Scott Mills ("SHUT UP Scott!", "No, it's TiHHHana darlink!") and being generally hilarious. This didn't translate quite so well to the stage - she gave it her best shot, but a low cut lesbian tux and sapphire Pat Butcher earrings can only take you so far.

Douze points for: letting a man in a tracksuit run amok then do some ballet.

Switzerland

All the gays on my Twitter feed swooned in unison at the hotness on show, but I found him way too smug-twatty to be fanciable - cause it's important to exercise character-based quality control when you're lusting after a Eurovision singer. (Ahem.) I was also faux-OUTRAGED when he picked up a violin in an attempt to channel Alexander Rybek and to mask the unsavoury nature of his lyrics: "But I fear your judgement, oh I fear your judgement, I’m so wet, I’m dirty".  *Ewww-face*

Douze points for: a hip-swaying tambourinist so eye-wateringly cheesily awful-terrible that it completely compounded my brain and might have the best thing Eurovision has ever seen. (Editor: no.)

Greece

Objection!  Young men in leather jackets giving dancefloor shout-outs and rapping in a Hackney accent to a Crazy Frog backtrack is NOT what I expect from my Greek Eurovision, even if there is a man trampolining in the background. Where are the aging Alpha pop males clad head to toe in tight white (via deep V chest reveals)?  Where is the lithe ADHD pop girlie strutting around in a mini-dress?  That's what I expect and it is simply unfair for Greece to not provide it.  At least I’m not quite so sad that Cyprus won’t be there to give this their usual twelve.

Douze points for: the large triangular bolo tie.  How 'street'.

Slovenia

Styling nicked straight off Queen Narissa from Enchanted – but why shouldn’t our Slovenian flautist/evil godmother wear an electric blue ballgown made of the purest acrylic satin substitute?  BECAUSE THIS IS EUROVISION AND YOU USUALLY CAN'T MOVE FOR ONSTAGE FIRE!!!  Health and safety risk = HIGH!  

Douze points for: one time at band camp I stuck a flute...

Romania

I had high hopes for returners Paula and Ovi after their 2008 double-piano stormer, but this didn’t quite reach those heights – even though they tried to recreate the magic with a circular keyboard.  But I did like the bit when Paula - still SO out of Ovi’s league - performed the Phones 4 U hand signal as part of her dance routine.

Douze points for: when Ovi stopped playing the circular keyboard, but the piano sounds remained.

Voting time entertainment: brought to by an Australian smorgasbord and Eurovision 'entry' which wasn’t strictly part of the competition (thank goodness – it was well botchy, in spite of the Oz Love for Eurovij).  That was followed by Eurovision fans dancing - having auditioned via YouTube.  I’m not bitter that I missed that brief, oh no - I’ve already been on the telly dancing at Eurovision (which you might not know, as I never really mention it), so... yeah, whatevs.

The results: Malta (siblings!); Norway (haunting beardy!); Poland (Carry On Feminism!); Austria (Conchita Wurst!); Finland (little boys band!); Belarus (Google maps and cheesecake!); Switzerland (hot but twatty!); Greece (trampoline rap!); Slovenia (evil fairy flutemother!) and Romania (circular piano!).  Booooo to losing Lithuania (pleather tutu!).  Semi final #1 was better, but still much promise for the final on Saturday. 

My heart says UK to win, my head says look at the betting (the Netherlands - who I’ve got in the sweepstake. Yessss!) and my funny bone says the French moustachios to make me chuckle.

GOOD TIMES!

May Countdown to Copenhagen: memories of Baku 2012

All hail, for 2012 heralded the arrival of hosting the contest in a country well-known for human rights violations  THE GREATEST EVER EUROVISION SONG.  Of course it would be Sweden to take the Greatest Ever crown.  And it's deserved, because Euphoria is just... well, it’s just everything. *contented sigh* 

At the other end of the scale, poor old Englebert – shall we generously pretend that it came last because old Humps had to sing first?  Ahem. Was it the best?  No - not even close.  But in all honestly, it wasn’t the worst one there either.  I mean, remember the Albanian dreadlock?  The Russian grannies?  The TRAVESTY that was the Azeri winners forgetting the words to Waterloo (at around 6.15 - PREPARE TO GASP IN HORROR).

There were lots of highlights too – the rest of that halftime entertainment piece for a start.  It was a really good year for trashy, fun, almost-listenable pop; my iPod has since happy shuffled its way through French vocal (and real) gymnastics; catchy Italian Winehouse-lite jazz; Norwegian dance cheese, and Danish lady indie-pop - all the more impressive when you note that she totally pulled off a Captain Birdeye hat).  And whilst we're on the subject of visual success, let us not forget the joy that was the Maltese foot dancing and the Turkish cape boat. 

A final, special, mention for Jedward’s swan song, Waterline.  I truly thought they’d be representing Ireland forever, as an oil portrait wrinkled itself to death in their mammy’s attic.  But it wasn’t meant to be; much like Samson and his scissors-woe, I suspect going quiff-less was their downfall – even if it was done in the name of on-stage shower-taking antics (fully dressed THANK THE GOD OF  MANCHILD TWINS).  At least we can remember two Jedward glory years - and, let’s face it, the inevitable reunion to come in a decade.

GOOD TIMES!

Copenhagen 2014 – Semi final #1

Strike up the notes, it’s Te Deum time!  Emilie de Forest is back, still shoe-less, but with an army of YouTube karaoke clips and a choral cover to launch the show – there were Only Teardrops from this blogger, as the whole thing was JUST TOO MOVING.

Unusually, my emotional spirits weren’t dampened by the arrival of our hosts – mainly because one of the presenters (the one that’s not bespectacled or wearing a flower larger than her own head) was Kasper the troubled spin doctor out of Borgen – and MAN OH MAN, do I love Borgen.  In cultural terms, Kasper’s appearance is not dissimilar to, say, David Morrissey stepping up to present it alongside Graham Norton and Emma Willis: i.e., it's special.  Anyway, Pilou Asbaek, for that is his real name, has a fun wavy side quiff and appears to be having a whale of a time (well DUH!).  I'm not sure how much crossover there is in the Venn diagram of Scandi Noir and Eurovision, but I am FIRMLY in the middle bit. I can only hope that the PMILF Brigitte makes an appearance at some point - although I might spontaneously combust in excitement.

But enough Danish TV waffle, it's time for European song waffle!

Armenia

Remember J-Lo's second (third?) husband? He of vampire eye bags who ended up dating her out of Made In Chelsea and my-daddy-owns-Topshop fame? (What do you mean, no?) Well it's the Armenian him, singing what I am reliably informed is called 'dubstep'. The dubstep bit is quite good actually, but it takes a hundred years of dull orchestral warble to get there.  Incredibly, this is the FAVOURITE!

Douze points for: his leather fingerless gloves.

Lativa

Popbitch called them Mumford and c*nts - what this lacks in politeness, it makes up for in truth.  The theme of the song is finding it difficult to bake a cake. Guys, even I can manage a Victoria sponge.

Douze points for: I don't know... smugness?

Estonia

Impressive performance from a technical perspective: yer lady here is singing with big-lunged gusto whilst performing athletic ballet techno in massive white pants – helpful when one is being thrown about the stage by a white-vested Arena poster boy.  Shame it's to by-numbers Eurobeat.

Douze points for: flashing her Bridget Joneses, even if the gusset shot to the stage was unlikely to hit an appreciative target audience.

Sweden

Mature popstrel singing electro-dirge - think a low budget All By Myself, but with added slow electronica.  Disappointing, all in all - but I am judging this by Swedish Eurovision standards, so we're talking a high bar here.   It needed a high NRG dance remix, although I did enjoy the emotionally fraught, grammatically-creative lyric "Undo my sad".

Douze points for: her perfect messy bob. HAIR ENVY.

Iceland

Possible drinking buddy rivals to Lena herself – this lot look excellent fun, as evidenced by their impeccable rockabilly suits in the colours of the Teletubbies and ironic Status Quo guitareography

Douze points for: backing singer dudes with full ZZ Top beards and coloured boiler suits.

Albania

The theme of each introductory vignette was to have the singer recreate their own flag in some creative way; Armenia produced a broach, the Swede used a pool and yellow lilos, the Latvians managed to bake a fucking cake after all.  Lady Albania, however, went for FULL ON BACK TATTOO.  Yes it *seems* crazy, but think of all those Olympians who get their rings done. (Erm, that didn’t quite come out right.)  Not much to add about the song, which was essentially Kiss From A Rose being covered by Shakira in the style of Muse.

Douze points for: a man guitarist in a cream leather snood.

Russia

Oh Russia.  I was all set to hate this.  On paper, this was a terrifying recipe for creepy disaster: hair entwined Junior Eurovision champion blonde twins with Putin-approved fembot smiles singing about showing love (HA!) while holding glass staffs on a seesaw.  But of course it was bloody amazing.

Douze points for: the audience booing.  That was hilarious.

Azerbaijan

Lady in red sings a ballad whilst other lady in red does some trapeze stuff.  Meh.

A grudging douze points for: circus skills.

Ukraine

Ok, so much has been made of the use of a human hamster wheel in this number and whilst I accept it was impressive, it is important to note that this is not the first or best use of a human hamster wheel at the Eurovision Song Contest. Hell, it's not even Ukraine's first or best use of a human hamster wheel at the Eurovision Song Contest.  (It’s also not as good as this - omgtotesbigmegalolz!)  But don’t get me wrong, this was still great – I mean it's Ukrainian Eurovision which used the lyrics “Tick Tock Tricky Tricky Tock Tock Tock”, so what would you expect? 

Douze points for: not getting annexed by the Russian twins halfway through the performance.

Belgium

The Go Compare man singing opera about his mum.  Oedipal.  And awful.

Douze points for: Ghent's largest waistcoat.

Moldova

Bring on the Lady armour!  Bring on the medieval skirted men dancers! Bring on the Bucks Fizz inspired moment when she ripped off her own pigtail and threw it at the audience!

Douze points for: oh come on - who else can boast onstage hair removal?

San Marino

Come on Valentina – here’s to third time lucky.  If you’re not going to do it with a song about Facebook, then why not plump for an overblown Streisand-esque throwback yelly number with a breathy talky bit?

Douze points for: So seventies they probably put vaseline on the camera lens. Hello soft focus!

Half-time: Pilou looks blissfully happy. By which I mean blissfully drunk.

Portugal

Well, *this* is a departure!  Yes, it’s a woman, but this year SHE IS BLONDE!  And she’s not in black robes, but in a slutty chiffon top with flowers over the boobs!  And sure, she’s wailing in Portuguese, but there’s a Baleric Summer Hit beat behind the whole thing!  I suppose we can’t accuse Portugal of being stubbornly and exclusively fixated on their own cultural output when they’ve nicked the backing track from a foreign country; even if it is Spain.

Douze points for: carefully-placed tit tape.

Netherlands

I liked the performance at the time, but I have zero memory of the song today.  So I imagine it did well because it was fronted by a Country and Western duo who oozed professionalism and musical ability - who knew THAT approach would work?!!  For me, it lacked Juliette Barnes throwing evils from the side of the stage.  NASHVILE FOREVZ.

Douze points for: Amsterdam twang.

Montenegro

So the opening VT was Mr Montenegro – not *the* Mr Montenegro, but their singer for this year (a cross between Andrew Ridgely and Jason Segel and the brother out of Everybody Loves Raymond) – doing a jigsaw of Montenegro's flag helped by two adorable Montenegrin children.  Turns out that the 'but where is the last piece, oh no, but hooray that cute child has found it, phew' plot was enough to blind my critical eye, as by the time the song appeared, I was too busy ‘awwwww’-ing to really listen.  We’ve seen accompanying ice-skaters before, but Plushenko wasn’t given free reign of the whole stage, or his own on-floor lighting sequence.

Douze points for: being the song I wanted through even though it was probably terrible and I won’t remember in any way come the final.

Hungry

Finally some hotness!  By which I mean, man hotness - I imagine the stadium erupted with testosterone at this point, as a million gays finally had a hunk to scream at.  Flagpoles up, eh boys?  This was good old high-tempo Euro pop, where hot dude gets to referee a domestic row through the medium of dance.

Douze points for: he hawt.

Voting time entertainment: body-popping Dane in a glittery tracksuit and the cast of Cats. Clearly no Riverdance, but it did trump the time the Azeris failed to remember the words to Waterloo.  I am STILL shocked and appalled by that one and will definitely be writing a letter of complaint to Jon Ola Sand.  At some point.

The results: Many congrats to Armenia (eventual dubstep), Sweden (electro-dirge), Iceland (coloured suits), Russia (yay/boo twins), Azerbaijan (trapeze), Ukraine (hamster wheel: the sequel), San Marino (seventies Valentina - hooray for persistance!), the Netherlands (country and western), Montenegro (ice-skater) and Hungary (hawt) – the final beckons!  

May Countdown to Copenhagen: memories of Düsseldorf 2011

2014 Semi-final #1 musings to follow later....

As for 2011, well we're talking about a special, special year, as I was actually in the arena in 2011; it’s one thing to watch it – and what a joyful thing that is - but being at Eurovision itself is a whole other extraordinary experience indeed.  The main difference, for me, was getting even more immersed in the whole shebang – even a big city like Düsseldorf gets taken over to a degree by the Eurofans, and being there meant increased exposure to all the musical offerings, which in turn meant we get to know the actual entries far better than the one-shot TV show can ever offer – almost like it’s a song contest.  We also got to high-five each of the performers as they came off stage, so HELLO.

The other brilliant bit is the Euroclub, a dedicated Eurovision party temporarily set in up town, where up-tempo Eurovision numbers from years past are played in a loop, and every Eurogay lipsyncs every word.  In Düsseldorf, there was even an amateur* Israeli dance troop on stage, with dance routines (like, *the* dance routines, like, from *the* shows) prepared for every single tune - they had even delegated which one of them got to take the lead vocals for each particular song, so everyone got a go at the emotional air microphone.  

*I say ‘amateur’ in that they probably weren’t being paid to be there – but they were truly professional.  It was joyous, and not just because I’d had mucho vodka.

In fact, the whole thing was so exhilarating that I barely noticed the winners, Azerbaijan’s Running Scared.  I accept it wasn’t a vintage year song-wise, but I was still surprised that Europe was so taken with this blandathon.  Maybe it’s because it included a firework golden shower.  Probably Europe loves a gold shower.  I mean, there’s no way the juries tried to fix it because Azerbaijan were one of the few countries who could still afford to host the thing in 2012... 

Tell you who the jury didn’t like – and that was the UK’s entry, Blue.  Although their performance in the stadium was a teeny bit ropey, it wasn’t atrocious, and the public phone vote would have placed them a happy fifth place (see, Europe doesn’t hate us!).  The jury however (who judge things a day or so earlier, during the rehearsal show) stuck poor Blue in 22^nd place – leaving them in 11^th overall.  I Can remains a GREAT pop song, even if police cell wee-er Lee Ryan was involved.

But, really, 2011 should be remembered for two things and two things only: Jedward.  Turns out Louis Walsh really does know what crappy old cheesetosh will get the cash registers ringing.  I thought Europe would be far too confused by John and Edward "Together We Are Jedward", but it actually decided it quite liked the bonkers duo and the catchy Lipstick.  The whole thing was a delicious car crash – amazingly they made their way through their three minutes without breaking anything, managing most of the dance poses, singing sufficiently quietly into their microphones that the backers took on most of the tune and getting their hair quiffs to stay erect throughout.

A quick note on my favourite Eurovision nations before I go – I was most disappointed by the Greeks’ dirgy Watch My Dance (probably they had checked the piggy bank and were pulling a Father Ted) and Ukraine’s Angel (which focused less on heavy bass, mini-skirted MILFs and hamster wheels, and more on sand painting – impressive SURE, but also: zzzzzzz).  But Sweden were back on excellent track with Eric Saade’s Popular and quality rhymes like: “Stop, don't say that it's impossible / Cause I know it's possible”.

GOOD TIMES.

May Countdown to Copenhagen: memories of Oslo 2010

Glory for the Big Four, as Germany stormed a win with Lena’s bonkersly brilliant Satellite.  Turns out that the West can absolutely win the Eurovision Song Contest when it bothers to churn out a genuinely good pop song and a, let's call it, 'striking' performance - low key botch job can work a treat sometimes.  I’ve already blogged about my Lena lurve - she just looks like a right laugh.  If ever she's up for bier and currywurst, I am IN.

Meanwhile, the UK totally failed to learn anything from Suga-Lloyd-Webber ‘success’ (it’s all relative and a Top 5 is no mean feat these days), for this year we came last.  LAST! -  we even came below Spain doing, well, Lord only knows what that 'Juan' was about.  (It was even subject to a stage invasion, but was so strange no-one could really tell if that was part of it or not.)  The UK's plan was to try and recreate the Stock, Aitken and Waterman glory days, only a decade later.  Key words there - A DECADE LATER.  Josh Dubovie (who? Well, exactly) did his best, but turns out Europe doesn’t go for popstars who look like prefects, singing rejected Rick Astley b-sides.

Elsewhere, Romania got some excellent double piano action in (they’re back for Copenhagen with a circular piano, no less); Serbia got some excellent bowl cut action in (worth a watch for a great camp jump-yelp), and Greece got some excellent 'white-clad men singing OPA! with a Game Boy backing track' action in.  Not that you'd expect anything less from Greece - if they're not presenting a mini-diva in a teeny dress, it's, ahem, older men in white rousing the crowd.  And Giorgos ‘Keifer Sutherland’ Alkaios and his Friends did a sterling job – why let a receding hairline and beer belly get in the way of rocking a tight deep cut V?

GOOD TIMES!

May Countdown to Copenhagen: memories of Moscow 2009

OK peeps, prepare to have “I’m in looooooooooooove with a fairytaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaale” in your heads for the next hundred years, as that’s just a factual inevitability of talking about Alexander Rybak’s record-breaking win.  Who’d’ve thunk a violin riff would be so potent?  It probably helped that Europe's ovaries found Alex and his waistcoat somewhat dashing.

As for us, well it was time to bring out the big guns – Andrew Lloyd Webber himself mounted the charge, touring Europe, getting Putin himself on board, then sitting at a piano plinky plonking whilst Sugababe-to-be Jade Ewen wafted about a smoke filled floor, power-ballading her way through a song called It’s My Time – well most of the notes, anyway.  It was like the eighties had never gone away and Europe loved it – a solid fifth place. 

It was actually ballad overload this year – far, far, far too much big lung-warbling.  However, in amongst all the yodelling and emoting, was an absolute diamond of a ballad: Is It True by Iceland’s Yohanna.  I just unashamedly love it, in all its Disneyfied glory.  Whether I’d have given it my douze points is another matter though, as 2009 threw up what might be my favourite Eurocrazy performance to date.  Ladies and gentleman, I present to you, the Anti-Crisis Girl - Ukraine’s Svetlana Loboda with Be My Valentine.  I’ve already detailed here why I love it.  It’s the one I always turn to when I’m trying to convince someone who Eurovision can be simultaneously terrible and amazing.  By which I mostly mean AMAZING, obvs.

It would be shame to leave without a quick spin via Turkey’s Dum Tek Tek - belly dancing doesn’t play as prominent a role at Eurovision as one might expect – and a respectful mention of Greek ‘Adonis’ Sakis Rouvas, an experienced Eurovisioner who can wear white like nobody’s business and found the time to incorporate a giant stapler into his routine.  I mean, that is special, special stuff.

GOOD TIMES!

May Countdown to Copenhagen: memories of Belgrade 2008

From dirgy overblown ballad winner to dirgy overblown ballad – but with added Soviet ice dance!  Dima Bilan donned his tightiest-y whitest-ies and unbuttoned an extra button for Russia to finally achieve the big win they’d been long bribing the judges gunning for.  Time for total mullet domination, big time homoeroticism and the world’s most depressing game of shag, marry, kill.  

Mind you, those familiar with Olympic multi-gold medallist Evgeni Plushenko (the power of his skate only rivalled by the size of his nose and ego) will find this Eurovision performance a bit of a disappointment compared to what he gets up to in his day job.  I mean hello and hello.  And HELLO.  

Meanwhile, the UK put the Uniform Dating dress-up box aside and opted instead for disco binman Andy Abraham – who consequently bombed to a very harsh 25th place.  Even If might not be a stone cold classic, but it’s quite some way from the worst song in the world - and is certainly a catchier number than winner Believe.

Fortunately, there were plenty of other highlights in Belgrade – Latvian pirates, a Bosnian bridal convention, Ukrainian Shady Lady pop brilliance (ANI WOZ ROBBED) and France and Spain competing in I-don’t-care-about-the-kray-kray. 

Of course my personal highpoint was when I bitched to a roomful of Eurovision party-goers that I disapproved of the Georgian singer’s blatant pretension – I mean what kind of twat wears sunglasses indoors?  I was quietly informed that she was, in fact, blind.

GOOD TIMES.