eurovision and the apricot stone


C wasn’t feeling at all well yesterday so I ended up watching TV alone last evening and found myself zapping across the channels in search of something – anything – interesting to watch. And I chanced upon the Eurovision Song Contest. Oh boy I know it sounds desperate but it was a not the worst thing I’ve ever, ever seen.  That said the UK’s entry was a dire little ditty penned by those hit-makers from the 80’s Mike Stock and Pete Waterman and sung by a Rick Astley look-alike, 19 year old Josh. It sounded like something Rick might have recorded and rejected back then as a B-side. Perhaps you won’t be surprised that  our entry came in a very creditable last. At least we got a whole 10 points this time. That being the total number of points cast by the voting public from 25 countries.

Why does the BBC persist in representing the UK in such an old-fashioned way? It’s almost as laughable as the contest itself. The winning entry was from Germany of all places – a bright contemporary song from a young girl called Lena which sounded like something Lily Allen might have produced. It’s been a huge summer hit all over Europe and it’s not hard to understand why.  Perhaps it’s all a clever ruse on the BBC’s part not to win so that we don’t have divert tons of precious licence payers money to hosting the  bloody event. I guess we should be grateful but coming last behind places like Azerbaijan, which can hardly be called a centre of the music scene, is a little disappointing.

My favourite performance on the night was by Eva Rivas on behalf of Armenia with a song dedicated to an apricot stone. It’s true. We came miles behind this entry and I can’t decide whether it was the unlikely subject matter, the giant stage props, rather camp prancing dancer, the chunky backing singer or the very old guy on the flute which most captured the attention of the mostly-male voters.

What else could it have been?

pp

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4 thoughts on “eurovision and the apricot stone

  1. I preferred this to the Austrian entry ‘Kumkwat pips’ which was a tad less theatrical. Awful. awful, awful. The question is… why does the BBC persist in broadcasting this bilge each year? I’m not sure who actually watches it or takes seriously any the music produced on the night. It wasn’t much better on ITV last night – a repeat of Susan Boyle – I dreamed a dream.

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