Pop Vultures

Yes, I know I’m a wee bit rubbish, making all these promises I can’t keep about posting regularly again, and then…not doing it. Blame my dissertation. You could blame me, I suppose, but since I blame my dissertation for everything, it’s easier to just cut out the middleman.

However, consider this my version of standing on your doorstep with puppy dog eyes and a dozen red roses, begging your forgiveness and promising that this time, baby, I’m back for good. And even if I’m still a lying cow, at least, for this one night only, I can offer you the sweet, sweet loving of Eurovision. You know you want it.

So join me here tonight to comment on the highs, the lows, the music and the mayhem. And, really, it’s all about the outfits, anyway.

7:20. I’ve got thirty minutes to refresh my memory on the spelling of the former Soviet republics. Do you think that, 20 years on, we still refer to them as the “former Soviet republics” simply because that’s easier to spell?

7:55. Terry Wogan advised Graham Norton to wait until the 5th act before he started drinking. I do not intend to follow that advice.

8:00. I’ve just been informed that I can “sing-along” via the red button on Freeview. That would be the campest karaoke in the world, and yet of course I push the button. I must know the lyrics.

8:02. Graham Norton assures us that he misses Terry Wogan, too. So long as Graham can refrain from pointing out the relative attractiveness of each female performer, I won’t miss Terry at all.

8:04. Isn’t kicking off with the Cirque du Soleil a bit misleading? It implies such things as talent, skill and class, three things I never expect to see in my Eurovision.

8:11. First costume atrocity! Our host is wearing the product of an unholy love affair between an ostrich and a bowl of orange sherbet.

8:14. Lithuania kick things off with “Sasha Son”. It is an utterly inoffensive and forgettable ballad. Worse, they are all dressed in tasteful black and white. I protest. However, the entire stage seems to be made of flying CGI piano keys, so at least they didn’t totally favor subtlety. And he just lit his hand on fire, which clearly shows dedication to his art.

8:17. Israel are up with “There Must Be Another Way”. This song features two women who apparently got lost on their way to the local goth club, considering the black lace and corset outfits. They do have pretty voices, though.

8:22. France are up! Hurrah! You can always count on the French to bring something truly ridiculous to Eurovision. And yet…this woman is wearing a basic black dress and standing still on a nearly empty stage. Where are the dancing sheepherders and the pantaloons made of licorice? This is not the Eurovision I am proud to know and mock. The song is…oh, who cares.

8:25. Sweden’s turn, and Graham Norton describes it as “popera” and tells us the dress cost €30,000 Euros. I feel a bit more optimistic, a feeling that remains once it actually starts. It’s proper disco. The woman doesn’t have half the voice required to pull it off, and I’m pretty sure that the natural Swedish skin tone isn’t neon orange, but I don’t care. The backup singers have glitter masks, and I’m easily pleased. The song pretty much sucks, though.

8:29. Croatia’s lead singer is attempting to eye-fuck the camera, and standing in a pose that suggests he derives his singing power from his groin. The back up singers are doing a lot more swaying than actual singing, the better to display the flimsiness of their many layers. The overall effect is of a romance novel cover come to life. I’ve already forgotten what the song sounds like. However, I usually like the insane pop numbers, complete with knitting goatherders, so don’t assume I’m predicting any winners tonight.

8:33. Portugal are kind of awesome. They’re wearing what I presume to be a variation on their national costume, and the set is a drug-inspired psychedelia of technicolor rainbows, clouds and puppy dogs. Plus, the song is actually quite catchy! I have a favorite, for the moment.

8:37. Graham introduces Iceland as being a “real contender”. Unlike Sweden, the singer does not terrify me, and the song has that theatrical ballad thing that Eurovision so favors. Plus, her dress contains ruffles, feathers, rhinestones AND what appears to be a Christmas ornament hanging from one sleeve, so you know I love it.

8:40. Greece earns my immediate love by appearing to be a 90s pop band, except way gayer. I’ll give you a moment to figure out how that could even be possible. The lead singer is prancing around in all white, with the shirt unbuttoned to his navel, and is dancing on a treadmill, leaping in the air, and making more theatrical gestures than you would see in the “Thriller” video. Truly, deeply awesome.

8:44. Armenia finally erases all my earlier doubts about the camp value of this year’s Eurovision, thank gawd. They appear to be six female villians from an 80s fantasy film. The song is slightly bouncy and actually rather fun. Have I gone soft? That’s four in a row I’ve sort of liked.

8:48. Russia is up with that terribly sincere Eurovision half ballad I can never get behind, though they always seems to win (except for such glorious, glorious moments as Lordi). It’s interchangeable with the other Eurovision half ballads, but it’ll get bunches of votes. It seems to be an ode to someone’s mother and features a crying older woman on the screen. As a song, I don’t care, though I appreciate the attempt at performance art. The lack of sequins, however, is disturbing.

8:52. Azerbaijan fortunately pick up the sparkle baton and run with it. The female singer is wearing the dress equivalent of a mullet. From the back, it’s an entirely respectable bridesmaid’s dress; from the front, it will make her gynecological exams much more efficient. She also appears to be wearing ONE gold lame stocking. The song is catchy, the look is insane. They’re a contender, for sure.

8:56. Bosnia & Herzegovina are so subdued and tasteful by comparison. Only Azerbaijan could make period military garb look subdued. They are very, very sincere and I’m sure there’s a deep meaning to the lyrics, if I could understand any of them.

9:00. Moldova is up, and I am temporarily distracted by the fact that I could not find Moldova on a map. The lead singer is wearing a peasant blouse, lime-green sequined mini-dress + corset, and purple knee high boots, so it’s clearly on the continent of AWESOME. Her backup singers are impressively limber and energetic. The song has absolutely no chance of winning, and Graham clearly agrees, calling it “special.” His tone suggests the short bus version of special.

9:06. Has it really only been an hour? Malta are up now, and it’s another one of those classic numbers in which a woman in a black dress stands in front of a microphone and sings with exuberant hand gestures. Next.

9:08. Estonia’s song is surprisingly pretty. It features a lot of strings set to a dance beat. However, Graham has already informed us that no winner has ever worn a completely blue dress, as they all are, so I must consider that a handicap. I still like them, even if their use of sequins is almost tasteful.

9:14. Denmark is going for the 90s “boy band that thinks it’s a rock band but is really a boy band” look and sound. Also, the lead singer spends the entire time in a John Wayne inspired bow-legged crouch. They do, however, end with pyrotechnics, which gives them one point from me. Just the one, however.

9:17. I have no idea why Oscar de La Hoya is singing for Germany, while wearing skintight glitter silver pants. That is what Graham said, right? I’m not hallucinating from sequin overload, am I? And that’s…Dita von Teese?  Okay, Oscar, if that’s who he is, just opened his shirt and is writhing next to Dita. The pure amount of hot flesh on display right now means I have no chance of judging the song fairly. I’m sure it’s awful, but I might have to rewind that last part to be sure.

9:21. Turkey’s version of Shakira is giving it her all. I’m so happy to see a naked, non-size 0 belly on my TV that I’m immediately predisposed to like them. Plus, the song has a good beat and you can dance to it. I’m okay with this song.

9:26. Albania! Oh, Albania! You had me at the backup dancer wearing all teal and sequins, including his bellbottoms and full face mask. And then, just in case that wasn’t enough, you give me two more dancers in clown makeup. Who even cares what the song sounds like?

9:29. Norway’s set features a projection of a small village and a gigantic moon, the dancers appear to be doing pushups as part of their routine, and the lead singer is grinning with such smarmy enthusiasm that you want to stick him in front of CNN disaster coverage until he cries. The song, however, is catchy.

9:33. Okay, forget everything I have said up till now. The Ukraine MUST win. They have: gladiator backup dancers, Marie Antoinette-esque figures that appear to do nothing but stand there, sequined knee-high boots on the lead singer, and spinning circular set pieces. And the lead singer just played drums while the gladiators dragged her about! No one can possibly top that tonight. Gladiators!

9:36. Romania is fighting back with the power of girlflesh. A fair amount of boobs and legs are on display right now, but if it’s not in a gladiator costume, I just can’t be bothered to feel it. It’s a pretty straight forward pop song, all things considered.

9:40. The UK is up now, with Andrew Lloyd Webber playing on a song he wrote. The UK is actually taking it seriously this year. I have no idea why. The song sounds like a Disney ballad, both in melody and lyrics. It’s her time, her moment, blah blah. It’s my moment to refill my glass. I think it might actually get a fair number of votes. It shouldn’t.

9:44. It’s Finland now, also known as the Land of Lordi to the Eurovision afficianado. This band…is no Lordi. Imagine if Donnie from New Kids on the Block crashed a group of slutty bridesmaids singing karaoke at a wedding. Also, there are shirtless, shrug-wearing men twirling fiery batons near burning oil barrels. None of the pieces seem to belong together. It’s the Dadaist version of a stage show.

9:48. Just Spain to go now. They give a fairly straight-forward performance, exhorting us to take it and shake it. It’s your fairly standard song and dance number until, boom! — magic! No, really, the backup dancers held a drape in front of the singer until she disappeared…only to reappear three feet away a moment later. I think she just crawled over there. They look like they had fun, which is good, since they have no chance of winning.

9:52. Now, it’s just time to vote. I vote for more tequila, after which I will actually read through what I’ve written and correct the myriad typos. Well, at least the ones I can see through the tequila. While we wait to see who gets the votes, weigh in below with your personal favorite.

10:20. It’s time to report the votes, also known as the point of the evening when tipsy journalists from across Europe deliver the results while pretending that they’re not completely biased based on geographic location. “Report the votes” is much faster to say, however.

10:24. Norway is running away with it. Sadly, the Ukraine isn’t even in contention. Apparently, the rest of Europe does not rely on the same gladiator-based criteria that I use.

10:35. Just before the break, Turkey makes a sudden surge, though it’ll take a Eurovision miracle to overcome Norway at this point.

10:55. And Norway just broke the Eurovision record for vote-getting. It’s safe to say that it’s over. If I was smart, I’d turn the TV off before the reprise, saving myself the inevitable earworm. I’m not, though.

11:11. Norway is officially the winner. If you’re not in Europe, I strongly suggest you don’t look for the song on YouTube, unless you want to spend the next three days singing, “I’m in looooooove with a fairy tale, even though it hurts.” It’s too late for me, sadly.