Eurovision is definitely what the American show Glee is trying to create (except with auto-tuned teenage cyborgs) – it’s that sheer delight in music cheesiness! The novelty and the ecstasy; I mean you’re not going to see many spinning pizza ovens accompanied by traditionally dressed Russian grannies and a pounding Europop beat. Oh, you might wonder if you really need such a stage presence in your life. Well I do.
Does it matter if we excuse ourselves from the competition next year? Well it think it’s a bit spoil-sporty, just because you do badly doesn’t mean you give up and it’s so not about winning. I’m not here to support Britain, I am here (I mean in front of a projector in a living room filled with Eurovision lovers) to see all the crazy song choices and what the hell these other performers are wearing, especially in the Semi-Finals. There was a lady with a full Native American headdress with a lady standing soooo faaaaar away in the back of the stage you could hardly see her shaking her tambourine, disappointingly, they didn’t get through.
More and more I am enjoying the semi-final shows, I want to see the cream of the crop, which means I want to see the most absurd arrangements, sights and sounds Europe (using the term Europe loosely) has churned out. The ‘so bad it’s good’ creations. Behold – Israel’s song about time! An alarmingly happy man croons in a baby blue suit “Time! Time! Time!” Think about it. Behold his gold hooped earring and the lady who inexplicably kisses him at the start of the song. This looks like fun – join in, “Time!” You know the words.
I’ve been watching Eurovision since I was a kid. My best friend and I used to roll about laughing, making new lyrics for the songs. Two men bopping about singing “A fishy ring, a smelly ring” was an all time favourite. This year the semi-final show had a song that sounded so rude the pole dancing light up robot ladies were the least of my concern. It’s all about the semi-finals, if you just waited for the Saturday night show you missed out on the song that sounded suspiciously like the singers were cheering “I’m going to f**k you up the boom boom!” Goodness. Remember an entire country had to vote for that to get through to internationally televised rounds... I’m not sure I want to know what they were actually singing.
I heartily enjoyed the brown haired Shakira-esque performance of Sweden’s Loreen. She sang well, the song was catchy and me and a whole room of gay men (I was at a Eurovision party – such fun!) were singing right back at the screen watching polyester balls fall all over her as she spun about in a jumpsuit accompanied by a huge man who just appeared out of nowhere.
Energetic and no sight of a push up bra, less is more when you’re dancing your butt off. But my point is when you eliminate the crazy you don’t get that mix of weird and wonderful euro eccentricity along with the talented people singing the songs you ‘might possibly buy’ (have you ever bought a Eurovision single? Now’s the time to confess). I don’t want it all to be countries imitating Disney pop princess from 2007 and Denmark your indie Captain’s get up fooled no one.
Let us continue to embrace the cheese and hey, check out those semi-finals.