NOTES ON A EUROVISION. BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©


NOTES ON A EUROVISION.

BY SANDRA HARRIS. ©

This year’s Eurovision, held in Liverpool, England, was the best craic ever. Hang on a minute. Why was it held in Liverpool? England didn’t win last year’s show, did they? Christ, no, they came second, with Sam Ryder’s song, SPACEMAN, an achievement which is amazing enough considering England haven’t won a sausage in this competition in donkeys’ years. Not since Brexit made them the most annoying country in the EU anyway. Yikes, I mean, not in the EU.

No, see, what happened was, Ukraine actually won the entire shebang last year with the Kalush Orchestra and their mesmerising song Stefania, but Ukraine is heavily involved at the moment in a war with Russia (Russia started it!) and would have been unable to host the return show. Hence, England, as the runner-up, graciously stepped in.

And if you think, by the way, that Ukraine only won last year’s shindig because they were being bullied big-time by Russia, well, you can think again. Nor did they get the pity vote. Their song, luckily for them, was phenomenal.

It had rapping, singing, the most haunting flute-playing ever and some wacky break-dancing. It’s a song about mothers, and not about war at all, which surprised me, but if you take the word mother to mean country, as in one’s mother country, the song takes on a new, even more poignant meaning for listeners.

For the last several years, the show has consisted of two semi-finals, which air on the Tuesday and Thursday nights preceding the big Saturday night final, otherwise known as Eurovision Night. Ireland, my country, hasn’t won buttons in the contest in years, like England, lol, and of course this year will be no exception.

Boy band Wild Youth didn’t even make it past the first final on Tuesday night, then they complained that Tuesday was the toughest night of the competition. Sounds like sour grapes to me. The song was awful and the lead singer was garbed in a brownish-gold sequinned suit that accidentally gave him a woman’s front bits. Not the top front bits, either, but the lower-down front bits. Mortifying.

To be honest, I think we should either do it properly, open up the contest to countrywide good vocalists and songwriters, and not just necessarily the ones favoured by the Establishment, or give up trying altogether. Our golden days of sending sure-fire winners like Johnny Logan, Linda Martin and Niamh Kavanagh are long over.

Niamh Kavanagh, by the way, looked terrific as she handled the Irish jury vote on Saturday night. Her 1993 rival, Sonia, looked decidedly the worse for wear when called upon to perform in the half-time show. The one allowed herself to age naturally and gracefully and looks the better for it; the other fought approaching old age with every weapon in her arsenal and it came back to bite her on the arse on the night. Ah well.

This year’s show was presented by former STRICTLY COME DANCING judge, Alesha Dixon, Ukrainian rock singer Julia Sanina, and British actress Hannah Waddingham. I’d never set eyes on her before this week, but apparently she’s famous for having starred in a TV drama show called TED LASSO, which, again, I’d never heard of.

She’s a fine figure of a woman, rather statuesque in a Kathleen Turner from WAR OF THE ROSES way, doing her gymnastics to get the better of Michael Douglas and rubbing her dainty hoof against Danny de Vito’s crotch in the plush security of his office: ‘I haven’t been into feet since ’82…!’ 

Dare I suggest that the glorious Amazon that is Ms. Waddingham be allowed to present every programme there is from now on? She’d be reet good at it an’ all. Graham Norton was upfront and presenting on the night as well, by the way.

The voting was, as always, the most exciting part of the right, although not as much so this year as other years, as Sweden’s Loreen, already an established pop star, was more or less a runaway success on the night with her song, TATTOO. Nearly every country gave her their much-coveted douze points.

 After the contest, people congregated online to say that her win was a fix, planned to ensure that Sweden gets to host the contest next year, the year of Eurovision supergroup ABBA’s fiftieth Eurovision anniversary…! Conspiracy theories abound, as always…

Ukraine didn’t win this year, as their song simply wasn’t as strong as last year’s entry. If you put their winning last year down to their receiving a sizeable pity vote because of the war, then how do you explain this year’s loss? Compassion fatigue, perhaps?

 Germany came last on the night, and England came second last with what I thought was a pretty decent entry, Mae Muller with I WROTE A SONG. I was convinced this song would do well, maybe even win the whole thing, but alas, it wasn’t to be.

England are back down the bottom end of the contest as usual, so all must be right with the world, lol. Last year’s second place for England was either a blip or an upsurge in the UK’s popularity due to the aid she was giving a war-torn Ukraine, depending upon which conspiracy theorist you believe.

QUEEN’s Roger Taylor drummed on the night for last year’s winner, Sam Ryder’s, comeback single, MOUNTAIN. He was dead good. Roger Taylor, I mean. I wasn’t looking at the other guy. In other random Eurovision news, France did desperately in the voting and the sulky-faced French chanteuse flipped the public the bird in retaliation. Shouldn’t France face a stiff penalty for this appalling act of rudeness? Off with their heads, I say, Citizens...

Anyway, long live Eurovision, the contest which unites the whole of Europe every year through music, surely a wonderful achievement for any event. So popular is the contest that countries outside of Europe are constantly trying to get in on the action, even though the title of said contest is clearly Eurovision and not World or Globalvision.

Hopefully, by the time it comes around again next year, the war in Ukraine will be over and the world will be a better place. Allow me to finish with the immortal words which have never failed to bring a tear of gladness to Irish eyes:

‘Royaume-Uni, nul points…’



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