If the Eurovision Again cultural phenomenon has passed you by, here's a primer. It's a sync viewing of classic Eurovision Song Contests, with chat and voting organised via Twitter. It was set up during lockdown as fandom therapy for the cancellation of Rotterdam 2020. Eurovision geeks hit play on YouTube at the same time, and all get transported back to something familiar but different.
This month we travelled to Madrid and the sixties, and BOY OH BOY, what a treat it was (backdrop of Francoist dictatorship aside). Two hours of Eurovision imagined by Almodovar channelling Mad Men. Except, of course, this is the original cultural source and an authentic encapsulation of that aesthetic - so really this was the discovery that Almodovar and Mad Men channelled Eurovision 1969. Everyone present was attractive, elegant, void of excess weight and nothing other than immaculately turned out. What a world. (Backdrop of Francoist dictatorship aside.)
There's only one presenter at the helm (one! imagine!), the perfectly named Laurita Valenzuela – a vision in a lace jumpsuit, with bridal lampshade peplum and peach satin ribbon belt; like fancy, comfy, award-ceremony pyjamas. Laurita, script to hand in a leather-bound folder (not that she needs it, except for the German bit) spends less than three minutes on opening pleasantries, via five different languages and some cursory hellos. No ramp-up-the-excitement VTs, no bad chemistry between hosts or awkward attempts at humour, no nod to last year's contest, winner or host - just straight on to the songs. The lo-fi is extraordinary by modern standards - the singer and their backing dancers/musicians walk themselves on stage, whilst the camera makes a play of the conductor bowing and picking up his baton. It's another time, ladies and gentlemen, it's another time... So shall we get into it?
1. Yugoslavia
Conductor-watch: An older white guy, can you believe it? Sharp tux, severe and authoritative look. Don Draper takes note.
Singer Ivan is a young Jeremy Beadle in a forest green suit; lapels of embroidered souvenir tea towel, with a brass broach in place of a tie. He sings an orchestral power ballad in Serbo-Croat, with a brief bit in English, whilst his three male backers, in matching jackets, crowd around one mic. It's slightly nondescript, and is greeted by polite applause from the theatre balconies – no flags, no screams and Euro-gay mosh pit. This is wall to wall big smoothed hair, false eyelashes and evening gowns, peppered by a tuxedo or two. To put that in context, I wore Primark and daps to Dusseldorf 2011.
2. Luxembourg
Conductor-watch: grey-rimmed, darkened aviator shades – I can see where Elliot Gould in Ocean's 11 got his specs' inspo. I also like how the conductors shake hands as one leaves and the other comes in and it's got that vibe of football managers saluting each other at the start of a game – there's a whole powerplay subtext going on there.
We've another solo male singer, Romuald, who gives us a folksy waltz. His suit is a light grey variation on Ivan's green, with dark grey piping. His hair has a slight bouffe about it - remember the time when both hairspray sales and the ozone layer were healthy? His song is called "Catherine" – so you can imagine my excitement. I've now featured TWICE at Eurovision. Shame the song is a bit of a snore.
In a suggestion this was received slightly better than Yugoslavia, we get polite applause from the stalls – where a little more money has been spent on the seats and the dresses, and this absolute legend shows you how to work a camera.
3. Spain
Conductor-watch: it might be the same conductor or it might just be the same shades.
Anyway, this is where things get interesting, because we welcome Salomé and we hail her as our leader. She rocks up in a tight powder blue fringed catsuit with bejewelled collar and mini beehive, launches into a upbeat jaunty number and dances that fringe like no-one's business – even though it was AGAINST THE RULES TO DANCE then. Madness. But it's also a crime not to dance when you're wearing fringing, so what was Sal to do?
4. Monaco
Conductor-watch: straight out of Peanuts.
From afar, the singer looks like a Thunderbird in an azure suit, but on closer inspection... it's an child. I don't agree with that sort of thing, I'm afraid: no kids on Eurovision and no kids on Strictly, that's my rule. (Though I did enjoy Jean Jacques' Wikipedia entry, recreated here in full: "He represented Monaco in the Eurovision Song Contest 1969 with the song "Maman, Maman", at the time just 13 years old. With 11 points, he came in 6th position. Now he works as a coach in the local rugby team.")
5. Ireland
Conductor-watch: deffo a different one, as the darkened shades are a slightly different shape.
Yer wan has gone full EIRE throttle in a short emerald green dress decorated with a glitter crucifix. I say dress, but it skims the edge of her Dublins and the look is essentially green triangle plus legs. Meanwhile, her backers have to wear puffy lilac tops tucked into full length lawn coloured kilts – it's straight out of the Bridezilla wedding play book, where you sacrifice the bridesmaids' fashion so as not to upstage the bride. The song? Oh yeah, the song. It's a sixties girl group pop ditty. But let's be clear – 1969 Eurovision is very much about the frocks.
6. Italy
Conductor-watch: doesn't look directly at the camera, so either he's used to classical and embarrassed to be here, or he's hiding something. I don't suggest we dwell.
Songwise, we're back to ballad, with a catchy string riff, performed by an Italian lovely in elegant grey sparkling evening gown, with under-boob rhinestone belt and giant plait – yup, the decade where even hair tied back is backcombed to eternity.
7. United Kingdom
Conductor-watch: Paul Weller, pretending he's too cool for this, which he CLEARLY isn't.
And here she is – Boom Bang a Banging Lulu, in fuchsia mini-dress with floral bib and cuffs, and appliqué flowers scattered on the edge. You know the one - you've seen this on every Eurovision preview, just before Bucks Fizz lose their skirts and we're told how we get nul points cause everyone hates us, and not cause we pump out musical beige to the contest. Aesthetically, the UK is channelling less of the swinging sixties elegant chic and more of a saucy Carry On vibe. Lulu's camera flirting is turned up to 11, all big winks and faux-innocent pouts. As a pop hit, it's no Shout, but she's a consummate pro.
8. Netherlands
Conductor-watch: more older white guy, more giant specs.
The thing about the ongoing Spanish commentary, when you don't speak Spanish, is that you hear “murmur murmur murmur thththth” then a word you recognise, and that word here is “Troubadour” - and that there reference is a Eurovision classic. (You might remember it recently showcased above a roof in Rotterdam, just before some Finnish people dressed as monsters played their guitars and we strapped in to watch some beautiful Italian rockers slash Vogue models not snort coke off a table.) Singer Lenny Kuhr, then 19 (now 71 and genuinely more beautiful than ever) rocks up calmly and understated, in long red dress and hippy hair. She strums her guitar and smashes it - not literally you understand (if dancing was banned, I can't see destroying a musical instrument passing muster). I mean her singer-songwriter-y performance: smooth and passionate. Though some might struggle with the harder-on-the-ear, phlegmesque sounds forced by the Dutch language.
9. Sweden
Conductor-watch: mustard ribbon bow tie.
Very slight indie vibe; singer man is in a tux, but it's only cause he HAS to be - his natural home is clearly a tight open shirt, bum clinging jeans and bedhead tousled hair. But this is Eurovision, and it's not so indie as to avoid a wink to the camera, an obvious key change, or the use of an anti-static hair brush - with mixed results, I might add. A bit like when my children were in need of a professional haircut and I brushed it all down as best I could, but the inevitable result was two shiny helmet heads.
10. Belgium
Conductor-watch: same big shades but here's the twist - no pervy sunglasses tint.
Our Belgian singer man starts offstage and saunters on! What a rebel. It's a good start, with the exciting stroll on and a cracking intro full of funky brass. Then... accountant sings dirge. Mind you, on closer inspection, that navy suit is quite sharply cut, his handkerchief nattily matches his tie, and he's got some rather sharp cheekbones under those sideburns. It even picks up with a hint of illegal dance (dad swaying), and I'll concede the chorus is rather catchy, even if there's something of the Vic Reeves pub singing about his facial expressions.
11. Switzerland
Conductor-watch: mafia boss
Sixties Cheryl in white and red polka mini number with gauze billowing sleeves. From what I can tell the lyrics are different ways of saying hello in various languages – the Swiss making full use of having several home languages they can sing in.
12. Norway
Conductor-watch: Bond villain (but, like, second in command).
Kellie Bright in long navy dress, with big white cuffs and sailor-style giant pointed collars, decorated with polystyrene shavings. But !!!OMG STOP THE PRESS!!! It's not a long dress, it's a flared jumpsuit! Hell yaas Norweigan QWEEN. Song-wise, it's yet another female-fronted jaunty pop number – so basically, polite upbeat pop with a smiling beauty at the helm was the gateway musical style for the grinding, pelvic, five women do a dance routine swishing hair and humping the floor, high NRG lady banger of our own era.
12. Germany
Conductor-watch: nothing of note.
Guten Tag, mumsy pink M&S tunic and snug flamingo slacks, flared over clunky heels with covered buckle. Very mother-in-law at the wedding, a few Proseccos in, hitting the karaoke for a super catchy pop tune about a ballerina (except there is no karaoke at the wedding). 100% here for this.
13. France
Conductor-watch: truthfully I have stopped watching the conductors. Diversity in action, Eurovision 1969 is not.
What looks at first like an innocent mustard top and long black skirt turns out to be a bodice made of golden chains sown on to the boobs – TRES BIEN, Frida Boccara, who is a small brunette knocking out a warbly ballad with a great big voice. Some excellent use of orchestral strings, because there is a whole orchestra there, after all - so why not aim for the show-stopping number at the climax of a musical.
14. Portugal
Conductor-watch: Vince Vaughan is conducting this one, I see.
Readers, I've found my fave! And she's a lady with lengthy green sleeves wafting to the ankles, in green fitted chiffon over green slinky vest top with long green flared skirt falling the floor. All matched by humongous gold earrings accessories of dreams. Her backing singers have a similar thing in maroon, but less floaty and less cool, and also she's got herself a man with a balalaika on a chair - this is throwing the kitchen sink stuff by 1969 standards, down to the emotive song full of tempo changes and lalalalas. Bravo Simone!
15. Finland
Conductor-watch: I assume there was one.
I got distracted as we have a duo on stage! Everyone else has been a solo singer with a few backers sat to the left, but these guys are sharing a microphone - though he seems far happier about that than she does. It starts with her inexplicably giving him a boater to wear, and they stand there in matching black suits – hers has a necklace, and his has... well, there's that hat. It's tuneless and weird and he's a getting little to close to her face and oh, look, he seems to be holding a cane! Was that always there? And they've now stopped to do a half-hearted Charleston interlude and cane twirling, and then back to the shared mic. Oke doke. Keep it strange, Finland.
* * * *
And that's it. That's... it?!?! I mean, we're less than an hour in, and it's already time to vote? No filler? No recaps? No complicated phoning and texting information and a plug for the Eurovision app/TikTok? Consider my mind boggled.
Happily we do move into more familiar pastures - an interval film - random and confusing to original and modern viewers alike. It's theremin-led experimental jazz and jump cut wonky pics of Spain's most touristy spots. Avant-garde themed GCSE art meets Insta story, but in the early days before they added filters.
Back in the room, the weird film is greeted by total silence, then we're back to presenter Laurita for the voting. Oh goody - my favourite bit! Except... no, not this time. The voting takes place in front of a DIY solari board and is wholly underwhelming. There's no technical issues (booooo), no cutaways to inebriated contestants making the phone hand sign, no wacky local presenters showing off with mind xenophobia or shouts of “douze points”, indeed no ability to dish out douze points in the first place
(Scoring sidebar: from what I understand, the countries have up to 10 points they get to dish out in any way they see fit – so Italy could give Luxembourg seven points and Yugoslavia three, and no-one else get a thing, or Switzerland could give almost each country just one point. So there you go - and stay tuned for why this is madness.)
The voting is all done and dusted in 15 minutes with no real tension until the end when... DUN DUN DAAAAAN - the result is (famously) revealed to be a four way tie!
The audience gasps and Laurita looks concerned and tries to surreptitiously ask the exec producer/head judge, erm, what the fuck do I do now? She is entirely left in the lurch by the Jan Ola Sand of 1969 Eurovision, who styles it out and pretends it's not a nightmare scenario they should have absolutely envisaged when they designed the scoring. He shrugs and replies “Well there are four winners" - subtext: over to you, presenter lady, to sort out your live TV broadcast beaming to Europe and beyond.
But, in the end - that man speaketh the truth. There are four winners: Spain (the real winner in my eyes), the UK (the recognised winner in any UK history of the contest), the Netherlands (the muso winner) and France (the big voice winner). The four female solo artist winners are each presented a medal by last year's winner, a perfect Spanish diva in a white, gold and fur striped coat-dress, with golden croupier bands, bustier and black tights for trousers. The whole medal ceremony is full of confusion and hilarity, then one by one all four women get to reprise their winning turn and all four songs absolutely stand up to the win. My only critique is that it should have been a five-way split with Portugal.
Oh guys, it was amazing - what an era for fashion and pop. All that's left is for the cameras to pan to a man in the audience covering his face with a silver handbag, as he's clearly not where he told his wife he was going to be, and for the credits to roll, revealing that actual Salvador Dali did some of the artwork. Well I assume that's what “cartel original de Salvador Dali” means. I guess he might have been the vision mixer.
Eurovision Again happens once a month, and I'm booking in the next one (17 July). Where are we time travelling to next?
