Dear followers
Most of you probably don't require the wisdom of the Sage to point out the inherent absurdity of the Eurovision Song Contest. Unlike the rest of the continent, the British and Irish view this event for what it is, a ridiculous high camp pageant populated by over-excitable foreigners belting out dreadful slices of hi-energy pop pap or cringingly over the top power ballads, normally while wearing a silly costume and surrounded by dancers who look like they've been recruited in an Amsterdam S&M club. And of course, it's not really a competition at all, as everyone just votes for their neighbours regardless of whether their song is any good or not.
So it was with a heavy heart that the Sage settled down on his Stockwell sofa last night armed with a family pack of Hula Hoops to watch this year's event unfold in all its customary awfulness. Things got off to a bad start when it became apparent that Eurovision 2011 was being hosted by the Germans, which meant a presenting team consisting of two towering, impassive ice maidens and a bearded man who looked like he'd be much more comfortable sat in a Bavarian bierkeller in a lederhosen, yet is apparently 'Germany's answer to Simon Cowell'. At least us Brits had cheeky chappie Graham Norton's bitchy observations to entertain us, although it was disappointing that Norton occasionally seemed to be enjoying himself, while his predecessor Terry Wogan never failed to make clear he knew it was all utter tosh.
Anyway, before long we were into the acts themselves, kicking off with a very earnest blonde Finnish youth singing a drippy little song about saving the planet. Then it was on to the usual line up of caterwauling Lithuanians, Hungarian drag queens and Georgian death metal, with Blue and Jedward thrown in for good measure. The pre-event favourite was apparently France, which was somewhat bizarre as their singer had clearly entered the competition by mistake after taking the wrong exit off the autobahn on the way to the Berlin State Opera. Unsurprisingly he fared very badly, prompting his countrymen to stick two fingers up to the organisers by being the only nation to announce their votes in their own language rather than English, which should have resulted in instant disqualification.
In the end, Azerbaijan's dreadfully bland, inoffensive ditty saw off the challenge of the Italian jazz band and the Swedish rent boy to win the crown, following the usual voting farce which the decision to decide 50% of each country's verdict by an expert jury made absolutely no difference to whatsoever. So the Portuguese still voted for the Spanish, the Austrians voted for the Germans and the host of new post-communist nations voted randomly for each other. How tiresomely predictable.
In the Sage's view, Moldova should clearly have won. A hilarious combination of tuneless shouting, frantic trumpeting and preposterously large dunce hats, their song was comfortably the worst of the night and should have been rewarded accordingly. The British and Irish, as stated previously the only two nations who grasp the true purpose of Eurovision, recognised this fact and both placed the Moldovans in their top three.
A word or two about Blue, who avoided the humiliation of many recent British entries but still only finished in mid-table. Clearly the thinking was that an ageing but still game boy band who have a decent fanbase around Europe would stand a good chance of doing very well. Wrong. That Blue are bad enough to mount a strong bid for the Eurovision title is not in question. They are and always have been terrible. The problem is, they don't know it, and insist on maintaining they are serious artists instead of recognising they're shit, relaxing and camping it up for all they're worth. You don't win Eurovision by trying to be good, you win it by jumping around manically and gurning at the camera while wearing the sort of outfits that would have been rejected by the Village People as too extreme.
Britain has another overwhelming disadvantage when it comes to the Eurovision Song Contest. Unlike the rest of Europe, we actually produce good music. It's important to understand this point and also to remember that the artists we routinely dismiss as laughably bad on Eurovision are genuinely regarded as the cream of their nation's talent by our continental cousins and are what most of them actually enjoy listening to all the time. The need to cater for this market gives them a huge range of suitable representatives from which to choose, all of whom know instinctively how to appeal to the cross-border masses of Europeans with no taste.
In short, the nation that gave the world The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, David Bowie and Led Zeppelin quite simply doesn't stand a chance.
Regards
The Sage
