Vienna 2015 – The Final

Well.  WELL.  What do we all make of that then?!  

And the winner is...

Like the rest of Europe, I’m jolly glad Sweden made it in the end. As much as I loved Russia’s A Million Voices (and my YouTube history will attest to that), Moscow 2016 was not a prospect any of us relished, given the current climate.  Better to head back to Malmö (or whichever Swedish city wins the hosting crown) for 2016 – especially given the increased likelihood of Petra Mede hosting a gay wedding and some dancing meatballs.

More on the song part of proceedings later (fun enough, albeit not a vintage selection), because I want to focus on my FAVOURITE bit of the night, when Vienna 2015 truly came into its own... 

The Scoring

AKA: AMAZING.  

Sure the scoring is always a highlight, what with the dodgy technical feeds and varied Euro-accents and haircuts on offer, but this was a veritable rollercoaster of point giving, throwing the Eurovision manual for point attribution right out the window (apart from France and the UK doing terribly, OBVZ).

WTF #1

The real shocker, of course (indeed, I’m not sure I’m over it) was Cyprus and Greece not giving each other the douze.  I mean WHAAAAAA?!?!  (My twitter went all caps for that one, such was my WTF confusion.)  I realise neither song was up to much, but that's never stopped the Cypriot-Greek lurve-in before.  It truly made me doubt the very fundamentals of civilisation as we know it.  Still, the world hasn't seemed to have stopped so we're probably ok - for now.  But if we don't get mutual douze-ing in Sweden, I'm investing in a bunker and a pig shit umbrella shield.

WTF #2

Then there was dissension in the gas ranks, as some ex-Soviet states lost the longstanding memo and didn’t bow down and hurl the 12s at Russia.  It felt particularly ouchy when Latvia snuck in a sneery ten, but Lithuania didn’t even bother with any Russian points at all.  AT ALL!!!  Ukraine must have been watching on with at least a small sense of schadenfreude.  At least Russia can always count on ‘good old’ Belarus and Azerbaijan to douze it.

WTF#3

Even the non-scoring bit of the scoring bit had its moments, and, in spite of the rest of their terrible TV work, I really enjoyed the two bitchiest Austrian presenters diving straight into the world of Eurovij Faux Pas and not even bothering to hide their disdain for gimmicky score-giving or techy issues, simply cutting any distorted feeds straight off, with no attempt at patiently waiting for the crackle to inevitably continue.  They were like a fancily dressed guillotine to wacky-shirted show-off revolutionaries - all Viennese Mean Girls.  But I see their point - we live in the era of wifi and Facetime, people!  How is your highly expensive satellite feed not working? 

Queen Conchita

But the best bit was Concheets in the Green Room, swanning in on the glamorous moral highground and protectively defending Polina from the anti-Russia boos, like a Eurovision Mother Teresa.  It must be noted that poor Polina did look very emotional and terrified at the rising fury of the crowd as she took the lead - almost like her choices in life were a) Eurogay vigilante justice, or b) her family being held on the edge of a gulag ready to be chucked in should she not win... or something.  But in stepped her Knightess in Shining Trouser-suit, la Conchita Wurst, publicly proclaiming Polina a wonderfulbeautifultalentedartist, worthy of Europe’s respect.  The subtext was clear: "back off bitches.  Yes, Putin's a homophobic dictator shit-trumpet, but my “we are UNITY” speech was a fucking Eurovij classic and certainly doesn't exclude gorgeous skinny blondes I want to swap makeup tips with".  Concheets is just the bomb, isn't she?

London Calling

And then we were treated to Nigella wonderfully showing off in three languages, trussed up and swaddled into a blouse last seen on a minor royal in the eighties, which I'd bet serious cash Concheets had her eye on.  Sure Nigella was a little nervous and shifty-eyed, but I’ll leave all that to American immigration to look into.

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE CONTEST ITSELF?

Oh yes.  Believe it or not, it was Latvia who struck me most on second hearing and got my vote.  Clearly I’m a sucker for a red dress on a plinth and a song which goes: high-pitched breathy something something something, THEN SUDDENLY BELLOWS "YOUR LOOOOOOOOOOVE..."

And what about the ones we hadn’t heard before?  Over to you, Big 5, hosts and special guests, Australia...  Let's do dis.

France

A Gallic lady with something of the agony aunt about her howls in a post-apocalyptic wasteland until, eventually, some drummer boys in flesh coloured Morph outfits arrive, bringing with them some CGI garden skills.  Incredibly, France garnered a whole 5 points for this (merci Armenia and San Marino), which is an incomprehensible five more points than facial hair tribute, Moustache by Twin Twin, managed last year. 

Nul points for: I’m half-French but even I can’t defend this.

United Kingdom

Look, we only have ourselves to blame for sending charisma-lite unknowns singing a jingle and doing some scatting.  Actual scatting!  *sigh*

Douze points for: There’s still a chance for the song to redeem itself as the backdrop to a cracking charleston this Strictly.  Fingers crossed...

Australia

I was 100% pro Australia being in the contest this year, and they didn’t disappoint - taking it seriously enough to send a catchy proper pop song sung by an actual popstar, even if he was dressed like a Wimbledon linesman, with a velvet finish.  If that had been the UK, we'd have been subjected to someone out of Home and Away in the nineties warbling over a lost Stock Aitken and Waterman demo, which had been lost for a reason.

Douze points for: Of all the LED extravagance available on that giant screen, you’ve got to love a country that decides it’s street lights and Nintendo Gameboy city-by-night graphics they want up there.  Probably their budget went on the flight over.

Austria

A plinkly plonky dirgy Coldplay rip-off by... well, the styling in the band varied from 'popstar Mormon chic' to 'eighties heavy metal scarf and bleach work', via 'classic Spinal Tap', so make of that what you will.  (And yet Europe nul-point-ed it!  *fake shocked face*)

Douze points for: They did set fire to a grand piano.  Flame-work might not have been a major theme this year, but, like costume/key changes and wind machines, on-stage fire does remain a major staple of Eurovij timelessness.

Germany

Most of this song was the singer performing with her tightly lycra-clad bum to the audience, before turning around to reveal a terrifyingly low cut décolletage and boxing champ belt.  Europe remained impassive and this got a grand total of nul points, which didn’t seem entirely fair.

Douze points for: Ass work.

Spain

Poor Spain – this was worth WAY more than 15 points and a 21^st place.  Why, you ask?  Well, I’ll tell you.  We start with FHM Senorita Roja Riding Hood (no black cloaks for the Big 5, we go RED) sitting on a leather clad man, who - let’s be blunt - has ample time for upskirting, as she gets up and de-hoods, whilst the wind machine cranks up to seventeen.  She’s then held back from launching herself into the audience by him grabbing her giant red train, as she waves her hands about her face a bit, before the red cape-dress is pulled off to reveal her dressed in some kind of see-through She-Ra outfit, complete with leg slit and sexy Roman lace-up drag-boots.  She then wafts around doing power poses, like she’s Storm off X-Men, before her man returns and they do some ballroom dancing and lifts (note to interested parties: he is topless).  She ends up singing from his shoulder, before pushing him away, and going back to controlling the weather.   She climaxes (THE SONG) on a bench.  How that was only three minutes is entirely beyond me.

Douze points for: You just read my review, right?

Italy

Popera from three very-well groomed Italianos, one of whom has daringly opted for plastic red-rimmed specs.  As you’d expect, the popera is all harmonised screams of “AMORE”, earnest glances and heavy guitar backing.  Europe apparently couldn’t get enough, which... surprised me.  Perhaps it was because it had something of the Vatican priests calendar about it.

Douze points for: Mr Cad, calling them Three Fivers.  BOOM BOOM.

Interval Act

If I'd been in charge we'd have had Conchita in a nun's habit doing the first 15 minutes of The Sound Of Music (all the parts).  Instead we got 15 minutes of mass drumming, though one of them did have a giant sledgehammer to bang his drum with, which was something, at least.

Then Conchita got to do not just one, but TWO of her new singles, which weren’t quite Rise Like A Pheonix-esque, but she was playing to a verrrrry friendly audience and wearing a top made out of mirrorball shards, so, you know, ALL GOOD.

So long, farewell...

And there we are – all over for another year (*sobs*), unless you’re into Junior Eurovision, which... I am not.  Sweden are an exemplary Eurovision nation, so we’ll be in fine hands there.  Let’s just hope the Big 5 don’t throw a WHY DOES NO-ONE VOTE FOR US, WE PAY FOR THIS FOR GOD’S SAKE, WE’RE GOING TO TAKE OUR BALL AWAY AND THEN SEE HOW YOU GET ON YOU CHEAPSKATE COUNTRIES OF EUROPE strop.  And I do sympathise.  I mean, wanting the UK to win isn’t even in my Top 50 reasons for loving Eurovision, but it would be nice to be able to get behind an act and song who can garner at least *some* points and give us even the merest hint of hope that we’ll get to host Birmingham or Milton Keynes 2017.   We live in Europtimism.

Anyway, thanks peeps!  I’m off to listen to the Russian entry again (shhh – don’t tell anyone).  Till next time!  Cue Te Deum.  Byeeeeeeeetc.  

Vienna 2015 – Semi final #2

Welcome to Semi Final Zwei!  A friend had warned me that things didn’t kick off until Song Nine, and yegads, was he right.  Yes, for me, it took a whole eight numbers to get going - the first half felt like I was drowning in a sea of duo-dirge.  Even Mel and Scott glittered up to the eyeballs and disco tits wasn’t quite enough to raise the roof, until Israel arrived with their special brand of insanity (more on that later, viewers).  So hurrah for that!  I should have known to keep the faith that it would always pick up eventually - now let us swim through the dirge onto better shores...

Lithuania

Duo #1: perky Lithuanian times.

Tuning issues aside (dear GOD), these two somehow managed to look rather cute, despite donning a lilac suit (him) and a papier-mâché piñata dress (her), which bore more than a certain resemblance to a multi-coloured Big Bird costume.  Their chemistry was in the region of ‘oooh I’ve spotted someone on the wedding dance floor I might quite fancy, so let’s go in for some jokey-banter dancing, seeing as I’ve had seven glasses of prosecco today, and see if there’s a snog on the cards.  And there was!  On stage kiss ahoy.  (Appropriately chaste, mind - the whole thing had a PG vibe about it). 

Douze points for: the backing dancers also going in for some same-sex snoggery (less chaste - clearly knowing their audience).

Ireland

Apparently still firmly committed to the My Lovely Horse policy of not wanting to risk the cost of any further hosting duties.  An Irish lovely whisper-crooning at the piano in a fake woodland is all very well and worthy, but frankly, we miss Jedward star jumping.

Douze points for: the clearly mis-subtitled lyrics “I made the mess in your vision" - up there with "where are you going with your fetlocks blowing in the... wind".

San Marino

Duo #2: the awkward teenage years.

And I thought Lithuania had tuning issues.  Imagine slightly dated, am dram, budget Disney and... you’re there.  (Another year, another no show for San Marino in the final, then.)  Still, well done for trying - most of the population must have already represented SM by now, so we should accept that the performers' gene pool is starting to look somewhat limited, and they probably had little choice but to sacrificially offer up their children.

Douze points for: I’m always a sucker for a hilariously terrible talky bit, especially in heavily accented euro-English.

Montenegro

Turns out it doesn’t take a duo to churn out tuneless dirge - an old Montenegrin man with a fabulously awful nip and tuck job (I’m sure I saw a staple by one of this temples) can do it alone!  Though I did enjoy how he was inexplicably accompanied by a gang of stern looking ladies pretending to be robotic seagulls, one of whom had borrowed Mr Romania’s giant brooch for her headpiece.

Douze points for: singing in Montenegrin.  Of that, I APPROVE.

Malta

It’s bad enough when someone nicks your gimmick, but to steal a song title?  Harsh.  Poor Malta had to put up with being the second (and second best) “Warrior” of the competition, after Tuesday’s sexy-scary Xanadu gothette from Georgia.  Your Malteser did her best to work the Angelina Jolie Leg dress she’d been given, but it might have been more effective had she learned to control her spanks from sneaking out.

Douze points for: the Maltese sound engineer, quick on the reverb during the more, erm, challenging notes.

Norway

Duo #3: the cool ones. (That’s ‘cool’ by Eurovij standards, obvz.)

Him: disappointingly un-Scandi-looking.

Her: Carol Decker does Lorde on Stars in their Eyes.

It’s all very earnest and big-hair-don’t-care, but, hold the presses people, for these two can sing in tune.  THEY CAN SING IN TUNE.  A Eurovision duo miracle.

Douze points for: the Romanian head-brooch is doing the rounds – Lorde-weigan had no qualms about borrowing it from Montenegrin Seagull lady.

Portugal

What’s that I hear?  A beat.  A beat?!?!?  Surely not!  My brain can’t commute Portugal not doing melodramatic string-led I’m on the verge of topping myself fado - especially not when it’s being sung by a slim, youthful vamp with Lady Diana train-length sleeve capes and the shiniest PVC trousers she will have no choice but to be cut out of.

Douze points for: *KEY CHANGE KLAXON* Cue a noticeable murmur of pleasure in the auditorium.

Czech Republic

Duo #4: and the dirgiest of the lot - all black leather and emotional shrieking.

Douze points for: There’s one highlight, and that’s when she awkwardly takes her heels off and throws them across the stage for reasons which remain unclear.  (I'm guessing it’s either the foot pain or the fact that she’s pretty much his height with them on, and you can sense his manhood feeling threatened.)

Israel

Look, it doesn’t start promisingly, as a slightly mole-y looking guy in a suit walks through some smoke waves, warbling.  And then you notice his shoes - massive golden trainers with literal wings hanging off them...  THEN BOOM!  In comes a beat and some terrible street dancing, all to truly masterful lyrics like “Pull me baby, I’m your trigger/ You know that my love is bigger” and “I’m a golden boy, come here to enjoy/ And before I leave, let me show you Tel Aviv.”  I’m *guessing* Tel Aviv is supposed to be a euphemism...

Douze points for: many reasons, of which I will now quote a few: 1. Finally getting the pardy started.  2. A group dance move involving a pelvic thrust and a body ripple which none of them can really do.  3. Closing the song with a wink, the line “We gotta go. Three minutes. Bye bye”.  *applause*

Latvia

A young tattooed Sinitta dressed as a scarlet mermaid in a hypnotic headdress does some swirly arms and shouting.  It sounds bad, I accept, but it’s rather great (and I don’t *think* that’s just because of the sea of duo-crap which came before it).

Douze points for: A song which I will actively listen to again.  Maybe.

Azerbaijan
Well we've still got some duo action to deal with, but this time it’s in the form of a couple doing contemporary dance, whilst the singer stands around like a lump/third wheel. #awks  Meanwhile, the dancers thrust and jump around wearing matching tie dye nappy trousers, with an acrylic Sia wig for her and a dog collar and gimp lead for him.

Douze points for:  The basis of the choreography, which was 'Gollum imitates a toddler having a mega-strop'.

Iceland
They've very sweetly let Iceland's prettiest twelve year old wear her Skipper pink fairy bridesmaid dress on stage, and perform breathy karaoke to the crowd, with no concept of pitch, or fear that beaming away whilst singing about being "broken" might not work too well.

Douze points for: the five adult backing singers hidden in the shadows, carrying this shit-show.

Sweden
Just another league.  ‘Seriously hot man fist-bumps a cartoon character’ doesn't sound like a winning combo, but... It's brilliant.

Douze points for: all of it.  Malmö 2016, surely.

Switzerland

It starts off all smoke-filled floors, lady drummers, and the high priestess of Zurich on lead vocals, wearing smouldering incense and giant black robes.  Spooky times.  Of all the black cloaks (and we know there have been many) it’s definitely the Swiss miss who gets the biggest one - and it’s quickly clear why, as she suddenly throws it off to reveal a glittery white wedding dress, before singing about her eagle (or possibly her ego – hard to decipher).

Douze points for: opting for staging which is basically all of Meatloaf’s videos in Eurovision form.

Cyprus

Yawnsome geek chic, as man in fake NHS specs croons under a spotlight looking earnest - it starts all low key acoustic and graduates to saccharine orchestral string accompaniment, so there's something for everyone, provided that everyone enjoys boring cheese.

Douze points for: allowing a handy loo break in proceedings.

Slovenia

Technically another duo, but they’ve hidden him (the actual husband to her wife) behind a piano, which is smart.  She’s dressed like a tired and emotional bride who’s nicked the DJ’s headphones, and sings like a nose-blocked Nicki Minaj, with mercifully fewer ass references.  (I quite liked this.)

Douze points for: she’s accompanied by a lady-matador doing air violin, which COME ON.

Poland

So let’s recap our 2015 themes: black cloaks, repetitive lyrics, duo-dirge, head-brooches, major tuning issues and wafty white bridal-esque dresses.  Poland opted for the last two.

Douze points for: Mel, pointing out Polish lady-singer’s Vorderman’s resemblance.

And that's it!  We’re done!  Will Europe vote wisely? (Ish.)  Will the Austrian broadcasters opt for some dramatic pauses when they reveal the finalists? (Mercifully, yes.)  And who will get the last ten places? (Let’s find out....)

So: Lithuania (piñata kiss duo!), Montenegro (nip’n’tuck man!), Norway (Ginger Lorde and friend!), Israel (“Pull me baby, I’m your trigger/ You know that my love is bigger”!), Latvia (Sinitta mermaid!), Azerbaijan (interpretative dance!), Sweden (peerless!), Cyprus (dull specs!), Slovenia (headphones!), Poland (Vorderman!).

The bookies seem to favour Sweden, Russia, Italy and Australia, so I’ll opt for those as the ones to watch (seeing as the only winner I’ve ever tipped was Loreen, and that was SUCH a no-brainer).  I'll also be happy enough to see Latvia and Slovenia again.  Not long to go now peeps.  HAPPY EUROVISION!

Vienna 2015 – Semi final #1

Willkommen in Wien, beeyatches!  

And it’s Conchita - who else? - willkommening us to the show, clad in Ikea lampshade-structured skinnybitch white and urging us to once more Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise Like A Phoenix - this time accompanied by such Viennese clichés as a swirly stringed orchestra and aristocratic Viennese Waltzers in synthetic non-fireproof wigs.  OH THE EXCITEMENT ETC.  

In what is probably my favourite-evah Eurovij news, proceedings on the Beeb are being co-hosted by accent-and-abbreviations-fan Mel 'Mel and Sue' Giedroyc - who was simply wünderbar throughout.  (She even made the less-than-enthusiastic Mr Cad nearly enjoy the show.)  May her contract to do this forever be iron-clad and legally binding on pain of death - what’s the licence fee for, if not this?  

Let’s gloss over the three Austrian lady-presenters (who are as awful and charisma/chemistry-free as, well, any other Eurovision host), briefly quickly express some sadness that we are without my (probably) favourite Eurovision nation, Ukraine, this year (for fairly obvious reasons - let Ruslana lead the way to peace and EU membership), and just crack on, shall we?  

Ja wohl!

Moldova  

Imagine a shiny-teethed, PG-rated, Moldovan Kid Rock, surrounded by gyrating backing dancers dressed as a Halloween hen weekend where the theme is ‘Sexy Cops’ - yup, someone's bulk-bought a selection of PVC hot pants.  But at least it’s equal opportunities objectification, as Moldova is quite happy to put their male folk beefcakes in spray-on cycling shorts, alongside their thrusty, toned ladeez.  The song is a total rip-off of a recent chart hit, but I couldn’t even begin to tell you which one, as I’m too old for the hit parade these days and all of my pop knowledge is gleaned from what I hear over the tannoy when I’m browsing in Dorothy Perkins.

Douze points for: costume theme work - sadly, a 2015 rarity going by tonight’s semi.

Armenia

OK, who had 'smoke machines' at nineteen minutes in?  Basically, Armenia have sent five members from the Yerevan Medieval Role Play Society, to repeatedly warble-scream out the words “DON’T DENY” at Europe, whilst gorgeous be-cloaked and be-face-jewellery-ed vixens stare at the camera and attempt to indoctrinate Europe into their Prog Rock cult through the medium of loud but sensual chanting.

Douze points for: the excellent work by said vixens in avoiding their lesser-attractive male counterparts’ attempts at surreptitious hand-holding during the song. 

Belgium

Perhaps a little more excitement from Belgium than we’re used to - albeit, such ‘excitement’ taking the form of a clean cut young man, who was probably spotted at a church choir or Young Politicians convention, before being Gok Wan-ed into wearing a stripy pink shirt and asymmetric three-quarter length suit.  Still, he's happy to perform an array of highly individual dance moves, backed up by Dental Nurse Fembots (hello niche) whilst singing “Rrrrap rrrrap rrrap” for a good three minutes.  After Armenia’s endless “don’t deny don’t deny don’t deny”, it seems our main theme is the repetitive lyric, rrrrap rrrrap rrrap, which is particularly disappointing, when you think that it might have been sexualised police officers.

Douze points for: Dance moves such as ‘faceography’, ‘lyingdownography’, ‘DentistFembotography’, etceteraography.

The Netherlands

And lo, the repetitive lyric theme continues; this time it’s “why-aii-aiiiiiii” times a gazillion, prompting such questions as “why-aii-aiiiiiii is our lady of the Netherlands wearing black pantaloons and Oxford sub fusc?”  In a new twist on the Bucks Fizz undressing theme, she begins in a black lace face mask, before ripping it off to emote her “why-aii-aiiiiiii”-ing all over the camera.  (Someone on Twitter also queried whether she was actually a Geordie, which = proper lolz.)  The best bit was probably her UV knuckle tattoo which spelled out “L.O.V.E” - it seemed *so* quintessentially Eurovision that I literally can’t believe it hasn’t been done on every Eurovij ever, ever.  (Perhaps it has.  I'm usually drinking heavily at this point.)

Douze points for: our lady having the Dutchest name there ever was: “Trijtje Oosterhuis”.  AMAJJJING.

Finland

Eurovision’s shortest ever song (some might say mercifully), shouty, guitary, punky and performed by guys with developmental and learning disabilities - which I realise sounds like a way off-colour (indeed unacceptable) sarky remark, but is actually a statement of fact. 

Douze points for: apparently starting the song with the lyric “The song title is on your screen” - though I concede that could be down to subtitling confusion.

Interlude as Conchita (now christened ‘Concheets’ by Mel - hello payrise) swans through the Green Room dressed in Maggie Thatcher Does Navy Blue Drag Queen Jumpsuit.  She looks phenomenal.

Greece

Well, it’s Greece, so we all know what to expect; there will be sexy and it will get through to the final regardless of song quality - Eurovision just isn’t Eurovision if Cyprus and Greece don’t get to give each other twelve points somewhere along the line.  Usually song quality (‘quality’ hahaHA) isn’t much of an issue, as Greece are an exemplary Eurovision nation, but this year’s power ballad snoozefest in a dangerously slitty dress is nowhere near our usual Greek vintage.  Syriza have a lot to answer for, it seems.

Douze points for: the whole budget going on tit tape power-adhesive and incredibly carefully targeted wind machine directionals.

Estonia

I appreciate that not many of you will also be avid listeners of French Radio London (it goes on when I’m washing up too loudly to hear Radio 4), but this is basically an Estonian version of what FRL seem to play 60% of the time.  They’ve opted for a couples perf: he has a large guitar and a vinyl wig, she has a rather high voice and some Superdrug Girls Aloud fake eyelashes, but mainly they’re giving intense mutual eyefucking a right good go.  It mostly comes off as I WANT TO KILL YOU-esque staring, but well-done for trying.

Douze points for: the pre-song commentary: "Stig Rästa is one of the best-known song writers in Estonia", which frankly made me PMSL.

FYR Macedonia

At last, an exciting outfit display: ladies’ detective mac For Him, bowtie cravat made of gaffa tape, and a nearly-twirly perfectly groomed moustache.  Songwise, it’s a rather terrible attempt at singing, but this remains a perfect example of why you should never skip the Eurovision semi finals - obviously it didn't get through, but one’s cultural experience of Euro-life is poorer without such ridiculousness getting all up in yo’ brain.

Douze points for: employing three seriously burly square-shouldered bouncers to be your unexpected back-up singers.

Serbia

Serbian fatty Bojana starts with a yawnsome ballad which entirely expectedly ‘unexpectedly’ turns into a high NRG dance tune.  Mirroring the musical events, Bojana’s backing dancers get to go from ‘sinister flag waving white priests in phantom masks’ to ‘what the dance floor looks like when a group of office workers end up in a club at 3am on a Thursday’.  Bojana herself is probably too trussed up to risk a costume change (I can only imagine the under-rigging), so stays true to My Big Fat Gypsy Eurovision throughout.

Douze points for: singing dressed as one of those creepy loo roll dolls off the eighties. 

Hungary

Last year, Hungary’s song ‘Running’ was an up-tempo dance number about domestic abuse.  This year, Hungary’s song ‘Wars For Nothing’ is a slow-tempo power ballad about wars being for nothing and people never getting to see daylight because they’ve been locked up for crimes they didn’t commit.  You can’t really fault the message, but wowsers it’s depressing, until you discover it’s sung by a lady whose name is ‘Boggie’. 

Yep, Boggie. 

That’s ‘Boggie’ everyone.

Boggie.

Douze points for: BOGGIE!

Belarus

Another couple for our televisual pleasure: this time, man sings dance number whilst the lady fiddles in the background (on her violin, you total perves).  Mind you, she does go for the most overtly sexy violining possible - the bowing is totally second to hair flicks, hip thrusts and smizing.  Tyra Banks would be well proud.

Nul points for: Sadly I can’t give this any points, douze or otherwise, as it wasn’t about cheesecake.

Russia

Oh here we go, Russia singing about peace AGAIN whilst the Eurovij producers desperately cover up the inevitable boos with some canned applause. 

LIKE, COME ON.

Douze points for: *secretly bloody loves this one*

Denmark

An instrument-playing boyband called Anti-Social Media (GEDDIT, ffs) who liken themselves to The Beatles - cue some major Lucy Watson eyeroll.  Props to the one in the white polo neck and blazer though (as if I needed any more proof that I truly don’t get ‘the kidz’ these days.  Though surely watching Eurovision is enough to know that.)

Douze points for: very possibly out-cheesing Rybak. (Yes, him of “I’m in lurrrrrve, with a fairytaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaale” fame).  I didn’t think we’d ever get more gorgonzola than that one, but...

Albania

Tis truly the year of the cloak!  This time in the form of some excellent diamante shoulder cape action.  (Even Edna Mode would be partial to this one, I'd wager.)  Shame the rest is nondescript female ballad action with highly dubious tuning.  I predicted Albania to be the first sure-fire immediate exit.  So, obviously they made it through.

Dix points for: second best tit tape power-adhesive and carefully targeted wind machine directionals, after Greece.

Romania

I spent most of this performance googling how to spell ‘brooch’, because I truly couldn’t believe that was it.  (It took the John Lewis website to persuade me.)  I now realise that was Romania’s very clever tactic to distract us all from a) their singer’s perfectly shiny pate, and b) the entire song.

Douze points for: regardless of spelling, that brooch was amazebrooch. Who needs a tie (or hair) when you can accessorise with a rhinestone scorpion badge?

Georgia

Turns out we needed a pleather chaps and shorts combo with feather-shoulders goth styling shrieking Georgian Evanescence at the gays.  Think lady Jon Snow from Game of Thrones meets something out of Flash Gordon and you’re more or less there.

Douze points for: use of kohl.

So there we go – obviously it was brilliant (mainly thanks to Mel), but who made it through, you ask?  Well, Armenia (Prog Rock cult!), Belgium (Dentalbots!), Estonia (Vinyl Wig Eyefucking!), Serbia (Big Fat Eurovision!), Albania (Glitter cape!), Georgia (Lady Goth crow!), Greece (Slitty wind machine!), Hungary (Boggie/No wars!), Romania (Broochgate!) and Russia (Russia!).  Secret hoorays for Russia, but I can’t help but feel some disappointment in Europe’s propensity to support dirgy choral ballads over sexy policewear and bowtie gaffa tape cravats.

Also problematic: the Austrian refusal to implement long theatrical pauses when revealing the finalists; seriously, they just read out the countries like the football results on fast forward - efficiency over suspense is not the Eurovij way.  Simon Cowell may produce much unwatchable shite, but we should all acknowledge his use of the dramatic power pause.  Listen and learn, terrible lady presenters.

In the meantime, two things to look forward to for Semi Final Zwei: guessing which political leader Concheets will decide to channel, and MORE MEL!  Hurrah!  

Bis bald, as they say!  

(Sorry Romanian Brooch Dude.)