This article orginally appeared in the Nottingham Evening Post. As you will quickly discover, it went to press in advance of last night's semi-finals (blush).

Good grief, can it really be that time of the year already? Tomorrow evening at 8pm, at the Hartwall Arena in Helsinki, the world’s most gloriously over-the-top musical extravaganza returns for the 52nd time. Those of you with the stamina for such a marathon of Light Entertainment can expect to feast – nay, to gorge – yourselves upon the spectacle of 24 competing nations, all doing their absolute darndest to capture your attention (and later on, your votes) in the space of three minutes. Prepare yourselves for the usual dizzying array of bizarre costumes, frenetic dance routines, corny rhymes, gimmicks a-go-go, endless key changes, and even – whisper it if you dare – the occasional genuinely good song.

By the time you read this, 18 of the 42 participating acts will already be packing their bags, having failed to qualify from last night’s semi-final. A few of you may even have caught the show on BBC3 – and if you did, you deserve hearty congratulations for making it through a record-busting, bottom-numbing, brain-scrambling run of 28 songs. The ten semi-finalists with the largest number of votes will now join the ten highest scoring countries from last year’s final, plus the “big four” – France, Germany, Spain and the UK – who make the largest financial contribution to the staging of the contest.

Based on previous form, these ten semi-finalists are the acts to watch – for not only have they had longer to rehearse, but they will also still be surfing from the confidence boost of last night’s results. In the 2006 finals, eight songs in the top ten were qualifiers from the semis, including the eventual winner, Hard Rock Hallelujah by Lordi.

Ah yes, the Lordi effect. No doubt hoping that the Finnish victory has opened the doors to rock music at Eurovision at long last, several countries have pitched their hairiest, croakiest, grizzliest old rockers into the battlefield, while others have spiced up their jolly Europop ditties with grinding metal guitars. Best of all, the tiny state of Andorra has fielded the most youthful and exciting entry of the year: a terrific slice of baggy-shorted punk-pop from a bunch of floppy-haired teenagers called Anonymous, which pitches itself somewhere between Green Day and Blink 182.

That said, lovers of High Camp will still find plenty to squeal about. Although Denmark’s drag queen DQ may already be on the way home (and let’s hope that he isn’t), Ukraine’s tubby cross-dresser Verka Serduchka is sure to raise the roof with three minutes of complete and utter nonsense, which has already caused an outcry in his native land. (Always a good sign: many Finns were up in arms about the supposedly “Satanic” Lordi this time last year). Verka’s hysterically uptempo Dancing Lasha Tumbai may be trash, and it certainly doesn’t hold up to repeated listenings (trust me on this) – but it’s hugely entertaining trash, and that’s what counts.

Whatever else you might say about it, the 2007 contest is certainly not short on musical variety. Germany’s Roger Cicero serves up finger-snapping supper club swing, the Belgians offer classic Seventies disco in the style of Earth Wind and Fire, Portugal and Norway have gone Latin American, and Latvia are fielding a six-man troupe of operatic tenors in top hats.

Other hotly tipped favourites include Sweden’s The Ark, whose The Worrying Kind is a fantastic pastiche of the sort of glitter-pop that The Sweet, Mud and The Rubettes were churning out over thirty years ago. Indeed, parts of the melody are so similar to Edison Lighthouse’s 1970 chart-topper Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) that the original songwriter has publicly accused them of plagiarism.

In stark contrast, Serbia has the year’s best ballad: the powerful Molitva, performed by a homely looking girl (Marija Serifovic) whose lack of glamour is compensated for by a stunning vocal presence. Serbia is sure to benefit from friendly voting from its Eastern European neighbours, and looks certain to place within the Top Five. Expect similarly high placings from Switzerland’s action-packed Eurodance belter Vampires Are Alive, and from the dramatic Belarussian entry Work Your Magic, whose lavish orchestration conjures up memories of classic James Bond themes.

But what of our very own Scooch? Much as it pains me to be disloyal at this crucial stage, you are advised to prepare yourselves for yet another crashing disappointment. The central problem with Flying The Flag (For You) is this: it’s the sort of novelty song which cynical British audiences think is a “typical” Eurovision entry, whereas the rest of Europe grew tired of such nonsense years ago. Scooch’s underlying attitude (we may be rubbish, but Eurovision’s rubbish anyway and we don’t care) is going to cost them dearly. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2007, eveningpost, popmusic

This article originally appeared in the Nottingham Evening Post.

From its humble beginnings in 1956, with just seven participating nations, to the global phenomenon of the 2007 contest, with forty-two songs spread over two nights and an audience of 300 million, dear old Eurovision has come a long way. Twenty years ago, the contest looked like a dying anachronism and a tired old joke – but since the collapse of Communism and the stampede of newly emergent Eastern European nation states, all clamouring for inclusion, its future looks more secure than ever.

It is therefore high time that a comprehensive history was written, detailing the highs and the lows, the triumphs and the tantrums, the classic moments and the long-forgotten monstrosities, that have entertained many of us for as long as we can remember. First published in 2006, John Kennedy O’Connor’s remarkably well-researched book has been updated and re-issued, just in time for the fifty-second finals which take place in Helsinki tomorrow night.

The format is a simple one, as O’Connor takes you through the contest in strict chronological order – picking out the key events, listing the final scoreboards, and illustrating each year with a splendid selection of images. Before you even start to tackle the text, there’s much fun to be had in randomly flicking through the pages, and spotting your favourite personalities: Clodagh Rodgers in hotpants; Dana International in peacock plumage; Katie Boyle in a full-length salmon pink evening gown (and, as we were later to discover, no underwear).

For all its visual lavishness, the book flounders somewhat with the text itself. There’s simply no way of describing fifty-one successive contests without lapsing into repetition, and it’s difficult not to feel your eyes glaze over as you learn that “Belgium had gone for a more modern sound” in 1977, or that the 1989 contest marked “the first time since 1980 that writers had provided songs for two different countries in the same contest”. Fine if you’re a fanatical Eurovision fan, but a bit of a slog for the less committed.

Clearly a fan himself, O’Connor’s overly reverential tone also disappoints. A few more forthright, even controversial opinions would have livened things up no end. Half of the fun of Eurovision is the passion that it inspires, and it’s a shame that the author’s own passion has been hemmed in dry details, solemn statistics, and a cautious reluctance to offend.

Labels: books, eurovision, eurovision2007, eveningpost, popmusic

...partly because, oh dearie me, this is far from a vintage year. Far too many post-Lordi macho rock guitars for starters, and what good are those to any self-respecting Eurovision fan? And also, cramming a record twenty-eight songs into the Thursday night qualifier is un peu de trop, even by my near-fanatical standards.

However, I am taken by the Bulgarian chorus of “More pee!”, and by the swishy young mister from Belarus:Mister Belarus’s chorus runs thusly:

“You set my beating heart in motion, when you cast your loving potion over me.”

I wonder if he’s been to Bulgaria recently?

Sorry.

Labels: eurovision

Cliff, Lulu, or Belle and the Devotions?
Kathy Kirby, Kenneth McKellar, or Katrina and the Waves?
Rikki, Ryder, or Live Report?
Patricia Bredin, Pearl and Teddy, or Bryan Johnson?

Over at World of Chig, your votes are requested for the splendid UK50 Project, in which all fifty of the United Kingdom's Eurovision entries are presented for your examination, in a vote-driven knockout competition. Each day, three songs are presented as an MP3 medley, with Youtube clips to match. Your task is to rank each selection in order of preference, and to cast your votes accordingly.

Apologies for not linking this sooner. However, there's still time to start at the beginning and work your way through.

Who wins? Who goes? You decide!

(NB: Chig's lovely logo was designed by my blogdaddy David - formerly of Swish Cottage, and now to be found on various Web 2.0 sites such as this one and this one.)

Labels: eurovision, linkage

Over at collaborative music blog The Art Of Noise, the second of their "In The Dock" features sees Eurovision being prosecuted (by drmigs), and defended by... well, who do you think?

Having studied the cases for the prosecution and the defence, you are then invited to leave your verdict in the comments box. I won't say any more than that, in case I am accused of unduly influencing the jury - but I think we all know where the balance of justice lies in this instance, don't we? I SAID, DON'T WE?

Labels: eurovision, guesting, popmusic

...and it's here. Phew, job done.

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

THIS is how much I love you, my Euro-chicklets. Instead of trouping into the hall to watch the final dress rehearsal, I have decided that it would be a lot more fun and fulfilling to blog it live from the press centre, where it's being relayed on giant screens around the room. Let's just hope they turn the sound up.

I was at last night's dress rehearsal, in the best seats I am ever likely to get at any Eurovision ever, and I loved every minute of it.

So hold very tight please, and off we go.

Firstly... you MUST be in your seats for the opening few minutes, which contain some truly stunning coups de theatre. Much as we may have bitched about some of the poor organisation backstage, THIS is what Greece does best. It's theatrical, it's OTT, and it had even the most jaded of hacks ooh-ing and aah-ing in wonder last night. They've been keeping this a secret all week. Turns out that we don't know everything in advance after all.

Another plus point: they've seriously pruned all that endless preamble, before the songs start in earnest. It's now 10 past, and we're on to the first video postcard.

Your hosts are a nice American lady, who is calm, confident and has a useful knack of ad-libbing her way out of difficulties - and a local superstar stud called Sakis Rouvas, who came third a few years ago. What Sakis lacks in presentational polish, he makes up for in Man Cleavage. Darlings, I was transfixed. However, I have a nasty feeling that Sakis might come seriously unstuck during the voting. Could we be looking at another Toto Cutugno situation? (Legendarily inept Italian co-host from the early 1990s - so inept that Italy pulled out of the whole shindig a couple of years later, never to return.)

Now, I'm afraid that the first part of the draw has its longeurs. Bear with us - things hot up dramatically from Song 8, and Songs 13 to 17 are solid gold.

Switzerland is pretty dire: the usual Ralph Siegel hackwork, partially enlivened by a former member of Alcazar. Drop dead fit, but my God, doesn't he know it.

Moldova is fronted by Arsenium (or "Arsey" to his mates - I shit you not), who used to be in O-Zone, of "Dragostea Din Tei" fame. You might know it better as the "Numa Numa" song, with the home-made webcam video that was all the rage on the web a couple of years ago. Arsey looks curiously uninvolved in his own performance, and the ending is a right old wash-out. No climax, no points. This will sink like a stone, despite the BRILLIANT GROUNDBREAKING NOVELTY of staging a REVERSE STRIPTEASE.

Israel is the third dud in a row, but things do start getting more interesting after this. Note the white suit - white suits are THE fashion story of Eurovision 2006. Why not add white suits to your drinking games at home?

Oh, Latvia. What were you thinking? This is the accapella group with the most ill-advised gimmick ever: a dinky little low-tech robot. Everybody say aah! The song's a complete dog. Last night, I challenged my friends to sing even one line of it from memory. We've been hearing it all week, but no-one could come even close. Even the group's vocal warm-up exercises were catchier than this! Still, it's fun to have a number that is performed entirely without backing tapes - yes, those human beat-box effects are all being produced live. They're clearly very talented, but what a waste of that talent.

Norway is rapidly emerging as the new dark horse. Folksy-ethnicy Enya-esque numbers often perform well here, and this is the only example of such in tonight's contest, so it should clean up with the folksy-ethnicy lobby. This was particularly warmly received in the hall last night. I don't care for it at all, but I respect its craft.

Ooh, proper pop stars! It's Las Ketchup from Spain, continuing to mine that tomato-based theme with "Un Bloody Mary Por Favor". The "duty free, duty free, duty free..." refrain is particularly fetching, but the song itself is disappointingly under-par - it should have been faster and feistier than this. Still, at least they're not wearing white, which makes a nice change.

I've got ahead of myself, so let me quickly tell you about last night's entertainment: a "Mister Gay Mediterranen" beauty pageant, held in an alternative arts theatre in front of a mostly straight audience, with a PA from former 1970s Euro-disco icon Amanda Lear (looking like something out of Eurotrash, knobbly kneed, collagened to buggery, and tottering about in a baby-doll dress which partially revealed her bare arse) - and, get this, a performance of Christopher Marlowe's "Edward II" thrown in, just for fun. (We arrived late, and missed that bit.) Bizarre in the extreme, and thank God that we blagged it on the guest list (as representatives of the international gay press, which was actually sort of true), or else we'd have been rueing the 35 Euro admission price.

Malta have been more desperate to win Eurovision than any other country - and last year, 98 per cent of the viewing population tuned in to watch the show, so one has to admire their commitment. Fabrizio Faniello has been working the media hard all week, and has been popping up for impromptu PA's all over the place. As a result, I'm sick to death of his happy little ditty - but if you haven't heard it before, it's kinda cute.

First of the big guns! Germany's Texas Lightning are much loved among the hack pack, and have been wowing the Greeks with their alternative version of "No No Never", with an expanded middle section that goes all Zorba The Greek. The lead singer is Australian, and lovely. The URLs for the band's website on the mike stands are a step too far though, and should have been banned: the thin end of a potentially troublesome wedge. Anyway, I love this song to death, and so should you.

Denmark's original staging was rocking a very similar country and western vibe to Germany, so they've wisely re-thought their act before coming out to Athens. This is a daft little hen-party of a track, which features another of this year's Big Stories: break dancing. Another one to add to your drinking game? There's an absolutely filthy alternative version of the chorus doing the rounds, which I don't propose to repeat here - but think of words which rhyme with "twist". Ahum.

It's the man of Chig's dreams next: Russia's Dima Bilan, who has consistently grown in confidence since his nervous beginnings a week ago. Much like me, in fact - from nervously clutching my satchel like the new kid at school, to the international media presence that I am today. In fact, it's fair to say that Dima and I have been on something of a shared journey together this week. We've never met, and yet I feel we connect in some way. Oh yeah: keep an eye on that grand piano - this is one of the standout gimmicks of the show.

Sheesh, what's FYROM doing here? I don't mean to be snide, but this can only have qualified from Thursday on account of FYROM's uncommonly large number of "special friends". This might be good moment to put the kettle on. If you're struggling to concentrate, then see if you can spot the name-checks for Beyonce and Shakira.

And here's another former also-ran which is coming up on the inside lane: Romania, with a slice of Ye Olde Ibiza Euro-Trance. In the hall, this is fantastically uplifting, with a concluding upwards key-change par excellence, and as such it gathered roars of approval. But how will it translate on telly? Watch for the rotating chicken-on-a-spit break dancer towards the end, and admire the responsible way that he has donned protective headgear before commencing his stunt.

There's a brief commercial break (during which BBC viewers can feast themselves upon the Sakis Man Cleavage once again)... and then it's the Big Five. Get back in your seats, everyone - this is the best sequence of the show, with most of the hot favourites drawn next to each other.

I've only spoken to one person all week who dislikes Bosnia's classy, beautifully arranged and exquisitely sung ballad. When 18 of us gathered together on Thursday evening to pool our predictions as to which 10 songs would qualify from the semis, this song and Finland's were the only ones to receive a unanimous thumbs-up. My only worry is that Hata Mata Hari (known back home as "the nightingale of Sarajevo") will get distracted by the ripples of applause which punctuate his performance, and allow self-congratulation to creep in. Sometimes he does this; sometimes he stays focussed on his performance. It could make a slight but subtle difference to the voting - but surely this is a dead cert for Top Three.

You may detect booing from the humourless Greeks for Lithuania's middle managers on a corporate awayday - but pay them no heed. Yes, this is a joke which quickly wears thin - but if you're fresh to it, then it works a treat. Watch the baldy on the far left spring into life halfway through - and, hey boys, check out the lead singer, who gets my vote as 2006's Top Eurovision Totty. Middle-aged men in suits! Does it for me!

Now, this is an unfortunate draw, as the United Kingdom is saddled with following one novelty song/performance with another. Will Europe's chuckle bones hold out? Great staging, though - the video backdrops are well-conceived, and the girls nail their characters to perfection. My favourite bit: the "oooh-shi-ine" section, where everyone comes together at stage front. Keep an eye on the bits of paper which the girls fling from their desks - during rehearsals, including this one, they're Union Jacks, but Daz has promised a surprise for the actual final.. Just bluster, or are we going to see something else? Earlier in the week I was predicting Top 5 - now I'm not so sure. It's loved by the Brit hack pack, but hasn't really crossed over beyond that.

Oh crikey, it's Anna Vissi for Greece, setting the Diva controls up to max. Not since the days of Alla Pugacheva (Russia 1997, oh come on, of course you remember), has anyone gone quite so OTT as this. However, the adulation which Anna receives does have a negative impact on her performance, as what should be a song of pain and anguish turns instead into a triumphalist lap of honour. Come on Anna! Concentrate! Didn't your lot coin the term "hubris"?

I'm not going to tell you anything more about Finland, as you need to stop reading this RIGHT NOW, and glue your eyes to the screen for the best staging of the entire night. The little girls behind me on Wednesday night were alternately squealing with fear, and giggling with delight. Another Top Three dead cert?

I don't care what you lot think of Ukraine's Tina Karol, because I LOVE HER LOVE HER LOVE HER. Such a game little trouper! How could you not want all the good things in life to come her way? This is the one with the Cossacks and the skipping rope. If Tina wins this, I shall probably burst into tears. And it won't be the first time this week, either.

(Aside: when Monaco's 1971 winner Severine took to the stage as a surprise turn at one of the after-parties, to give us a rendition of her classic "Un Banc, Un Arbre, Un Rue", I promptly bawled my little eyes out. At the end, I turned to Chig, only to find that he had been doing the same. What sentimental old sausages we are.)

Ooh, ooh, rubber-necking at a car-crash time! France's Virginie Pouchain is a TV talent contest winner who lacks experience at this level, and she has apparently been suffering from crippling nerves this week. Word yesterday was that the head of the French delegation had to physically push her onto the stage yesterday afternoon, for positively the worst vocal performance I have ever seen from a professional singer. Last night, she rallied a bit, and managed to hit the occasional right note. I sincerely wish her all the best for tonight - I don't take pleasure in this kind of humiliation. However, it will take a miracle to stop this heading for "nul points".

Croatia is Chig's favourite - the cloth-eared fool! - but you can't deny that this is top, top entertainment. Severina has modelled herself as closely on Angelina Jolie as teams of top cosmetic experts will allow - and there are some decidely colourful skeletons in her closet, as well. (Happy Googling, pervs! Chig has seen the evidence, and it ain't pretty. She says it was an amateur video which got leaked. Well, don't they all?) There's also a top Bucks Fizz, whoops-there-goes-my-skirt moment. Put it away love! Does your mother know you're out dressed like that?

And here's your man Brian Kennedy for Ireland - a country which is finally taking the contest seriously again after many years in the wilderness. This is my slow grower of the week. It's cheesy to the max, but there's an emotional quality to it which Kennedy pulls off, against all the odds. In the hands of a lesser singer, this would have been a disaster - but he's an old pro, and it shows.

Three to go! Here's god-bothering Carola for Sweden, complete with her specially imported wind machine - which she has graciously shared with any other act who wants it. I think that's quite nice of her, don't you? Opinion divides more sharply over Carola than any other performer this year - but I'm a fence-sitter. Part of me thinks she's a ghastly, deluded fake, and part of me sees a strangely fragile quality, which she has plastered over with all this born-again nonsense. She's sort of false and sincere at the same time, and I can never quite get to the bottom of her. As it were. Anyway, this is another hot favourite which should sail into the Top 10.

SHOCK UPDATE! Has Carola LOST HER VOICE? After sounding fabulous on Thursday night and Friday afternoon, an astonishingly all-over-the-place performance last night had us wondering what on earth was was going on. Could this be the reason? She sounded distinctly under-par just now, and at her last press conference a spokesman had to do all her talking for her. All pray for Carola, if you please!

Two to go! It's Turkey, with the alternative UK entry - as the backing dancers (and Chig's new best mates) are all British by extract or residency. Singer Sibel wept openly at the qualifier's press conference on Thursday, and started thanking everyone under the sun. Easy, love! You haven't won yet!

Last one! Plucky newcomer Armenia surprised everyone by qualifying on Thursday, and no-one really knows quite why. There's a sort of bondage-meets-maypole-dancing thing going on here, but after 24 songs one gets a little jaded with this sort of caper.

And that's your lot. The interval act is fun - more camped-up Greek classicism - but first of all, there's a surprise appearance from a TOTAL GREEK MUSICAL LEGEND. Can you guess who it is?

Much to the relief of all but the most hardcore of stats geeks, the voting will be speeded up considerably this year. The lowest 7 points from each country won't be read out, but will be displayed on screen instead. Then just the 8 points, 10 points and 12 points will be read out in full. Towards the end of the voting, this will revert to the usual method of reading out all 10 scores in full, just to draw out the tension. Ack, I've not explained this very well, but you'll see soon enough. I think I've worn myself out - I've been typing literally non-stop for the last hour and fifty minutes, and exhaustion is beginning to kick in. But IT HAS ALL BEEN WORTH IT.

Before I sign off: prediction time.

1. Finland
2. Bosnia & Herzegovina
3. Germany
4. Russia
5. Sweden (if the voice recovers, or else bottom 5)
6. Greece
7. Norway
8. Croatia
9. Lithuania
10. United Kingdom
11. FYROM
12. Romania
13. Ireland
14. Turkey
15. Ukraine
16. Malta
17. Armenia
18. Denmark
19. Spain
20. Moldova
22. Latvia
22. Switzerland
23. Israel
24. France

Enjoy tonight's show. It's a good 'un. Over and out!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

...and it's here. This is what has been referred to behind the scenes as the "Euroweenies In Athens" section. Can I just re-emphasise the plea in the final paragraph? Freeze-frames at the ready, gang!

The final Slate piece will appear on Monday, and then it's back to civilian life (and proper food, three times a day).

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

...and it's here. The work continues!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

OK, let me nail my colours to the mast. These are the 10 countries who I think will qualify from tonight's Eurovision semi-finals.

Please bear in mind that I have a hopeless track record in these things.

In order of appearance, they are:

Cyprus - strong impassioned ballad.
FYROM - political reasons! They have many friends...
Russia - the ballerina concealed in the grand piano should swing it, and he's a comely chap.
Ukraine - oops, forgot to include this yesterday. She's such a game little trouper, and we all love her dearly.
Finland - Europe's metal lobby have already been galvanised into action, and Dear LORD those fireworks!
Lithuania - so bad it's good. There's always one.
Sweden - I can't quite see the appeal, but Carola is loved by many.
Estonia - good sturdy Scandi-pop which will unite the Baltic states.
Bosnia - sheer class, but he needs to tone down the self-congratulation.
Iceland - for sheer comedic effort and invention, despite loud boos from the hall this afternoon.

Can I also urge you to tune in early, for the campest opening medley ever. It's blinking brilliant!

Update: Hey, seven out of ten isn't too shonky. I must be improving...

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

Rachel From North London has swung by in my comments, to post details of the Eurovision drinking game which she and her friends will be playing on Saturday night. Her uncannily prescient list of "characteristics", upon whose appearance contestants will be obliged to take a drink, deserves a wider audience.All I can say is: Rachel, you and your mates will be thoroughly sloshed before the interval act. Enjoy!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

...and enough to kill my "wanna be a journalist, IT consultancy is sooo boring!" aspirations for good.

Well, almost enough.

But at least the day had a happy ending. Maybe I'll tell you about it one day.

Update (1): There were three happy endings. An upgrade in my press accreditation, which has granted me access to the PCs in the press centre...

...a ticket to the Saturday night finals, on the sixth row from the front...

...but most importantly, and following a complete re-write from scratch owing to my laptop finally dying on me, exactly at the moment that I was going online to e-mail it to my editor (memo to self: ALWAYS take a backup)...

...my debut article for Slate magazine. I'm really rather pleased with it.

Update (2): Thanks to Luca for unearthing photographic evidence of the UK photo-shoot. I'm on the far left, and Daz Sampson (the UK contestant) is in the middle, wearing yellow. Click on "previous" and "next" for more.

Incidentally, I made my press conference debut later that day, asking Daz about his song's co-composer: a member of the underground culty indie act called the Cuban Boys, who were big favourites of the late John Peel. He had been in a bit of a grumpy mood up until then, and the question seemed to cheer him up. One tries to do one's bit.

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

Another day at the office! It's a bit like Groundhog Day round here, as today's schedule of rehearsals and press conferences is more or less identical to yesterday's. We've been running through the 14 countries whose songs have been placed directly into Saturday night's finals. The remaining 23 countries are obliged to battle it out on Thursday night at the semi-finals, which are also broadcast live around Europe. The 10 countries who receive the most tele-votes from the viewing public on Thursday will then graduate to the finals on Saturday.

In an appalling dereliction of duty, I haven't actually got around to seeing every country's rehearsal. Some are on way too early, while I'm still recovering from the previous night's vodka-and-coke-fuelled revelries at the official Euroclub (it gets going around midnight, and finishes at 3am). Others are on way too late, clashing with the daily round of mid-evening parties that are hosted by the various national delegations. But that's cool, as most of the best songs are placed in the middle of the day anyway.

So, what delights have I witnessed? Here's a quick lowdown:

Latvia. Ooh, proper music! Performing without the aid of pre-recorded backing tapes (making them the only country this year to do so), Latvia have fielded a six-piece accapella vocal group, who combine tightly arranged harmonies with human beat-box effects. They're a talented bunch of singers - but sadly, the song itself is a bit of a dog. It's over-elaborate, it lacks focus, and it lacks any sort of memorable hook - which is pretty much a pre-requisite for any serious contender. Worse still, the young group's lack of performance expertise leaves them woefully exposed, and looking rather like the winners of a high school singing contest.

However, the final death knell for Latvia comes in the form of postively the lamest, most ill-advised stage gimmick since... since... well, since about five minutes ago, now I come to think about it. I don't want to give away any surprises, so I'll just say: watch the left hand side of the stage towards the end.

Norway. No Eurovision would be complete without at least one gypsy-folksy-ethnic turn, and so it falls to Norway's Christine Guldbrandsen to channel the spirit of the fjords, with a song which translates as "Elves' Dance". There are floaty white dresses, there is a wind machine, and much ethereality prevails. Let's just say that it's Not My Thing, and move on.

Spain. Wow, some proper pop stars! It's the return of Las Ketchup, who scored a massive international hit in 2002 with "Asereje", more commonly known as The Ketchup Song. Still milking the tomato-based liquid theme, the girls are back with a song called "Un Bloodymary". (Eww, fancy putting ketchup in your vodka, arf arf.) This isn't a patch on their mega-hit.

Malta. Fabrizio Faniello is a charming, eager-to-please young man, with a winning smile and plenty of expressive hand movements. He has represented Malta before: in 2001, with "Another Summer Night", which I'm sure we all remember. This year's song ("I Do") is similarly bouncy, catchy and memorable. However, the performance - although much improved since the first couple of rough, messy run-throughs - is still a bit all over the place. Worried brows have been furrowed over this one.

Germany. My favourite, the Retro Bar's favourite, and one of the biggest floor-fillers at the Euroclub every night - which has to be a favourable portent. Every time it comes on, some Pavlovian response kicks in, obliging me to drop everything, break off conversations in mid-sentence, and hurl myself towards the middle of the dancefloor. As I've said before, this is a jaunty country-and-western number: firmly in the middle of the road, but with an endearing quality which I can't quite pin down. It's a gimmick-free performance, save for a few strategically placed neon cacti - and the URL of the band's website, plonked centre stage on a couple of mike stands. This could set a dodgy precedent. Personally, I wouldn't have allowed it.

Despite some growing misgivings, this remains my prediction for this year's winner - with the Bosnian ballad in 2nd place, and Finland's hard-rockers in 3rd place. But I've never been right at these things yet - and I wouldn't want you to go wasting your money down at the bookies.

There are more songs to write up, but I need to eat something before tonight's run of three parties down at the Euroclub.

One last thing: keep your eyes peeled for some promotional shots of the UK's Daz Sampson with the British fan contigent, all dressed in school uniforms. I'm towards the left of the shot, semi-crouching, and looking like a right wally. If you find the photos anywhere on the web, then let me know, would you? Much obliged!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

Sorry, my poor long-suffering darlings: am I flooding you with trivial details about a TV programme which you have no intention of watching? Can't be helped, I'm afraid. This is a time of the year when the readership of this blog does a small shift sideways, as inquisitive followers of the Eurovision Song Contest start popping by for updates, and one simply feels a certain duty to oblige.

Worry not, my loyal regulars: this time in a week, the madness will be over. (In other words, I'll go back to posting once a week, mainly to apologise for only posting once a week. Every blogger needs a House Style, and this would appear to be mine.)

So, with that little disclaimer out of the way, let's move onto Day Two, brought to you from the back row of the press conference centre.

Actually, let's finish off Day One first of all.

Yesterday's penultimate rehearsal came from Bosnia & Herzegovina, who have fielded a splendid bit of breast-beating Balkan balladry. This is the sort of stuff which I used to loathe - but with repeated exposure over the years, one's ears become acclimatised.

A class act, this one. No silly costumes, no gimmicks, just a powerful and beautifully arranged song, delivered with sincerity and passion. This alone should make it stand out from the pack.

In stark contrast, Iceland's Silvia Night and her crew have piled on every gimmick they can think of, and then a few more besides. If this works on the night, then it will be great. However, the staging is so technically demanding that there is plenty of scope for things to misfire - as they did on several occasions during yesterday's run-throughs.

In common with other responsible sites, I'm not going to give away any of Silvia's surprises. Nevertheless, you should pay close attention to the lines which she delivers after her, um, descent. In the recorded version, and all the way through the rehersals, Silvia has been using A Certain Word Beginning With F. However, in the printed lyrics which appear in the official programme, the offending line has been rewritten to excise the word in question.

So, will Silvia dare to say "f**king" on Thursday night? Or will family values prevail? Time alone will tell. Look, I'm trying to ratchet up some tension here.

Silvia's ensuing press conference was a triumph of Performance Art, which apparently caused some offence amongst the more ironically challenged members of the hack pack. She plays that Diva Bitch role to perfection, at all times, never once breaking out of character - and I, for one, admire her for it.

For our evening meal, Chig and I decided to place our trust in the catering team at the joint Ukrainian/Polish party, which was held in one of the side buildings at the official "Euroclub". (A strange post-industrial complex, reminiscent of both the Tate Modern and Battersea Power Station. Only a bit diddier.)

What mouth-watering examples of their respective national cuisines would the Ukes and the Poles rustle up? Some tasty bits of sausage? Clever things with beetroot?

Um, not quite. Our supper ended up consisting entirely of tortilla crisps and olive tapenade. And vodka. Lots and lots of FREE vodka. (The portions they dole out are ginormous.)

Frankly darlings, I'm living off dust. Well, dust and fags, if I'm being entirely honest. Still, I should be able to squeeze into my nice new red-white-and-blue Paul Smith cowboy shirt by the end of the week, so it will All Be Worth It.

Bugger it, I'm missing Las Ketchup in the next room. Laters!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

Straight from the horse's mouth, 10 minutes ago at her press conference:

"I'm proud to be a Gay Diva."

Have to say, it looked as she was having her teeth pulled while she was saying it.

Carola then directed us to this video interview, in which she supposedly sets the record straight on That Controversial Gay Question Which Won't Go Away, Dammit.

Hmm. A tad edited, isn't it?

"I... [snip) ... love ... (snip) ... gay ... (snip) ... people."

Heh.

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

Estonia's entry is, emphatically, My Sort Of Thing: Scandiwegian pop-rock at its finest, once again delivered by a Swedish performer. (They have a history of doing this.) If you liked "Once In A Lifetime" by Ines, or Sahlene's "Runaway", then you'll like this.

But what is she singing in the chorus?

"Looking through my window, what about the subjugation?" That's what I thought at the Retro Bar on Thursday. Mmm, kinky!

"Looking through my window, what about the Soviet Nation?" An oblique comment on post-Warsaw Pact independence? That would be nice.

Nope, now that I've got my official programme, I can confirm that the lyrics are, in fact, "Looking through my window, what about sun you made shine?". Dropped definite article and all. Well, of course.

The direct lift from Abba's "Does Your Mother Know" is a nice touch, and is reflected in the Abba-esque outfits: 1975-style mini-dresses and boots. She's a bit plastic, but that's only right and proper. Go Estonia, etc etc.

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

...only I suspect that the Schlagerboys are doing it from the palatial splendour of the P1-enabled press centre, whereas I'm squatting at the back of the press conferences like a pauper. Not bitter! Not bitter at all!

Anyway, their blog is great, and reading their comments on the same events is like hearing some weird Schlager echo.

Don't forget the OnEurope Livejournal, either. Scabrously opinionated, which is just the way we like it.

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

...and they're fresh out of complementary water bottles, as well. I'm sweating like a hog! But it's all for YOU, so that's all right then!

Portugal. Never very strong on yer actual Tunes, are Portugal. This year's entry makes their most concerted stab in yonks at an Actual Tune, being frothy, boppy, and a leetle bit Motowny. 4 ladies, lots of mini ra-ra skirts, lots of movement, lots of bounce... but, nah. This ain't gonna break their run of failure, either. How's about some Fado for next year, huh? I could see Fado going great guns.

The hall was jam-packed for everyone's favourite homophobic pixie with a wind machine, Sweden's Carola: a strong contender, with previous form. Carola brought it home for Sweden in 1991 with "Captured By A Love Storm", aided by judicious use of a wind-machine - and blow me if the wind machine isn't back in 2006, now turbo charged to ventilate not just Carola's rippling blue train, but the ginormous silver flags of her backing dancers. Love her or hate her, this was a rip-roaring, barn-storming performance, and a dead cert to qualify. So she's a born-again nutter! Deal with it!

I'm getting quite quick at doing this, you know. And the laptop hasn't played up once. Time to source some fluids. Back later with three Big Ones: Estonia, Bosnia, and - be still my beating heart - Iceland!

I wasn't really enjoying myself much this morning. Too overwhelming, too much to take on board. Now that I'm actually making myself useful, it feels a whole lot better. Arbeit macht frei!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

I've just nipped out to watch Portugal, and have returned to find the Dutch ladies still blathering on about "this fantastic opportunity", yadda yadda yadda.

I've also spotted the Question Of Doom, which crops up at every press conference. Some well meaning soul will always pop up and ask the act about whether they see Eurovision as a springboard to an international career, and what plans do they have to tour abroad, etc. Tumbleweed, every time, followed by non-commital mumblings. Hey, let's not kid ourselves here. We've all been around the block.

Lithuania performed to the smallest crowd of hacks that I've seen thus far. Was it just the post-lunch dip, or were people staying away in droves because "We Are The Winners" is widely regarded as one of the drossiest Eurovision entries ever?

Fools! Fools! OK, so the song is little more than a terrace chant ("We are the winners! Of Eurovision! Vote vote vote vote vote for the winners!"), set to the tune of the children's refrain "I'm the king of the castle", over a basic drum pattern. And OK, so the performers look like a bunch of middle-managers getting pissed up at a company Awayday. But, I'm telling you: you've got to watch this one. It has a charm all of its own. This is my current Dark Horse.

(There's also a great bit where it sounds as if the song is about to lurch into Van Halen's "Jump". The moment passes quickly, but it's a thrilling one.)

Excuse me while I hoof it over to everyone's favourite homophobic pixie with a wind machine: Sweden's Carola. Busy busy busy!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

If there are any Brits who are looking to spread their loyalties, then Turkey would be a natural choice, as nearly all of their humpy male backing dancers are either British by nationality or residency. (Yes, Chig's been chatting them up.) They include a former dancer for Bananarama and Crazy Frog (the honour!), and a former member of some Pete Waterman protegés called Pop!, who had a few hits a couple of years ago. It's the umpteenth lively number in a row, and so might get buried in the rush, but the disco-influenced dance moves are a source of some delight.

I didn't stay long for Ukraine, but what I did see involved Cossack dancing, and a giant skipping rope. But hey, I don't want to spoil all of your surprises.

Ah, Finland. Now, this is a one to watch. Think Slipknot fronted by Roy Wood, singing death metal vocals over a 1980s Bon Jovi-esque backing. Most of the band wear scary monster masks, and there's a dramatic Costume Moment mid-song (involving wings), and there are fireworks. Big, huge, massive f**k-off fireworks. Which I missed, as they weren't activated until the final run-through.

The guys over at the splendid OnEurope Livejournal are saying: Winner. Me, I can't be sure - there was something awkwardly static about the performance, pyros or not. Still, the band gave easily the most entertaining press conference thus far, for which much thanks. (It's been Platitude City, basically.)

The Netherlands press conference is taking place as I type. Deeply honoured to be representing our country, blah blah blah. I might be the new kid at school, but I'm quickly learning the drill. It's a slight and over-repetitive song, delivered by a cutesome girl trio, with an acoustic guitar and... eek, wah... DRUMS.

Those of you who survived last years DrumFest in Kiev will still no doubt be scarred by the memories. It is therefore my pleasure to report that NO BIG DRUMS AT ALL have crossed the Eurovision Big Drum Embargo this year. Maybe they were all impounded at customs. Nevertheless, the Dutch girls have managed to smuggle in an extensive array of Little Drums. Scattered all over the stage, they are. Bongotastic. I don't think this one will qualify for Saturday's finals.

Back later!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

So here I am, slightly overwhelmed and bewildered, nervously clutching my complementary satchel and stumbling around the Olympic Indoor Arena, here in sunny Athens. Lots of goodies have been thrust into my hand... shrink-wrapped DVDs which I might never play, press releases, party invites, timetables, etc etc.

Chig (who knows EVERYONE) is being very good, and introducing me to people at the rate of about once every five minutes. I barely recall a single name, but everybody is very nice. It's interesting how, everytime you're introduced to someone, both of your eyes flicker down to the ginormous laminated passes that hang, medallion-like, somewhere around your navel. Checking each other out: so, where's he from? Is he P1, P2 or FAN? Subtle hierarchies prevail.

As for me, I've been granted P2 accreditation. Full access to the open rehearsals and press conferences, but - alarmingly - NO access to the press centre, with its banks of PCs and modem points. That's strictly for the higher beings with P1.

So, in order to communicate with the outside world, I am obliged to hunker down in the press conference area, which has a good strong wi-fi signal. It's manageable, so long as the blessed laptop doesn't start blue-screening. There's no rhyme or reason to this: it can work like a dream for hours on end, then it can just start crapping out randomly all over the place. But ever since I uninstalled Norton Antivirus, there has been a marked improvement. Fingers crossed.

What of the rehearsals so far? Today, we've got the decidely stronger second half of the qualifiers, which go out on Thursday night on BBC3.

Russia are represented by a pretty boy called Dima Bilan, with a mullet nouveau and amazing fawn-like eyes. Having (frankly) slobbered all over him in his Gay Times preview, Chig has been informed that his comments have been circulated the length and breadth of Russia, and that they are being taken as a great portent for success on Thursday. So, naturally, he was right down the front for the press conference - and right in place to catch one of Dima's complementary pillows, branded with his image. Sweet dreams tonight for Mister Chig!

The performance involves rose petals, and a white piano from which a woman's head mysteriously emerges. At least, I think so. There was a bit of a crush down the front, and my eyes were still adjusting to the gloom.

A word about the arena. It's not overly huge, so even the folks in the cheap seats should get a decent enough view. The stage is modelled around a classic Greek ampitheatre design, with banks of descending steps that also serve as video screens. I've seen fussier stage designs in my time, but this is fairly simple and it works well.

Eek, Lithuania are on in the next room. 'Scuse me, must dash. Talk to you later.

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

1. Some light perusing of Slate (my new favourite website, for obvious reasons... see next post) has unearthed an excellent article: The Perils Of Poptimism (Does Hating Rock Make You A Music Critic?, by Jody Rosen. Having read an awful lot of over-inflated guff over the years about so-called "rockism", its adherents and its "popist" opponents, it's refreshing to find such a sensible, straightforward exposition of the seemingly never-ending row between music geeks of certain hues.

2. The caption competition! I never gave you the results of the caption competition! After careful consideration, the prize of Super Duper Posh Spa Resort Incense Sticks (Sandalwood flavour) goes to...

...asta, for the caption which made K and I laugh the hardest and longest:Congratulations, asta. Your prize will be winging its way to Canada in a couple of weeks' time.

3. Over in Athens, Iceland's "kooky" Silvia Night is giving it the full Diva treatment: at the start of her press conference, she expressly forbade anyone to look at her while addressing her. This turned out to be no joke, as a hapless journo who breached the rule ended up being thrown out of the room by her personal security staff. Now, that's the sort of behaviour we want to encourage. The spirit of tATu lives on, etc. etc.

Boarding in half an hour! Still very excited!

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

Well, this is a novel sensation.

While still basking in the warm afterglow of a wonderful holiday which ended just five days ago, I'm now feeling the giddy demob-happy anticipation of a second holiday, which starts tomorrow morning...

...when I fly to Athens, to spend eight days in the very epicentre of the mad media circus that is...

EUROVISION 2006!

This will be my fifth Eurovision, but the first one where I'll be enjoying the benefits of press accreditation. This comes courtesy of www.slate.com, for whom I'll be penning four daily dispatches, starting next Thursday.

The purpose of these dispatches will be to introduce and explain the Eurovision phenomenon to a mostly American audience, who know nothing of its manifold delights. This is particularly well-timed, since the NBC network have recently secured the rights to produce a US version of the contest, in which all 50 states will compete against each other. Let's just hope they manage to preserve something of Eurovision's essential charm and character.

My mentor for the week will be Chig, who has been representing Gay Times at the contest nearly every year since 1998. I couldn't ask for a better guide - or indeed flatmate, as we'll be bunking up together in an apartment for the duration. (I might also press him into certain fact-checking duties; he's a notorious stickler for detail, and quite right too.)

The big worries right now are:

1. Will my level of accreditation grant me access to the press centre, which I could do with in order to file my copy? They don't tell you until you get there. It could get ugly!

2. Will my dodgy laptop hold out for the duration? It's perfectly well-behaved until I switch on the wi-fi, after which it has a nasty habit of blue-screening at random. My latest wheeze has been to disable the Norton Anti-Virus. Miraculously, it appears to be working a treat... so far.

If the wi-fi inside the Arena permits, then I intend to fire off some rough-and-ready hit-and-run blog posts from the rehearsals and press conferences - along with breathless reports of the parties, of course. ("OH MY GOD I stood RIGHT NEXT to the second Croatian backing dancer from the left! My life is SO GLAMOROUS!") Well, one must be allowed an outlet for one's untreated fanboy gush, as Slate are really rather highbrow (SHUT THAT DOOR, BELGIUM'S KATE RYAN!), and I shall be obliged to deploy at least some measure of objective detachment. (GO ICELAND! WE LOVE YOU, SILVIA!)

Yesterday, at the Retro Bar's monthly "Douze Points" shindig, we watched the preview videos of this year's entries, and cast votes in the traditional Eurovision jury-based manner. (Luca has the full results.) The winners on the night were Germany, who have fielded a sweet and mega-catchy country-and-western hoedown - but easily my favourite video came from Greece's remarkably well-preserved veteran Anna Vissi, who served up a gripping mini-drama that had me clutching my sides. YOU SHOW 'EM GRANDMA!

Despite the aforementioned post-holiday glow, it's been a stressful rollercoaster of a week in many ways. I only had two days in Nottingham to unpack, turn round and re-pack, before spending two days back in Canary Wharf in advance of Athens. The morning after I arrive back at Gatwick, I'll then be back in Canary Wharf for yet another full working week. I've therefore had to pack work clothes, play clothes and party clothes for a full sixteen days away. Why, I can barely lift my suitcase.

This was also the week that I learnt that I'll be required to spend most of June working in London as well. I'm afraid that, in the heat of the moment, I might have used some unprofessional language. Yes, let's leave it right there.

Today was a classic Canary Wharf day: lurching from Dear-GOD-this-is-the-toughest-gig-ever, WHY-did-they-hire-me, I'll-NEVER-get-up-to-speed, my-brain-can't-absorb-ONE-MORE-SCRAP-of-information, to oh-NOW-I-get-it, wow-I've-actually-got-something-WORKING, you-know-this-job-can-be-quite-FUN-in-a-twisted-sort-of-way. And thankfully, in that order.

Bloody Slate Dot Bloody Com, if you please! I am VERY excited. DJ DAZ TO BRING IT BACK HOME FOR BLIGHTY!

What a year, ladies and gentlemen. What a year.

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2006

...previews being my particular speciality, but I'd be interested to know what you lot made of last night's contest. But while I'm here, some quick-fire observations:

1. The best songs on the night were mostly placed at the start of the draw, which made for a spectacular opening salvo. Indeed, several members of last night's gang in front of the telly swiftly declared it to be the best contest ever.

2. However, there was a distinct tail-off in quality after the bangin' granny of Moldova, followed by a dramatic slump after Serbia. This could only spell good news for Greece, whose entry shone out from the herd by comparison.

3. Although the level of chat in the room drowned out most of Wogan's commentary, I did catch his lament that many of this year's songs sounded indistinguishable from another. That would be the BOWEI (Blend Of Western & Eastern Influences) factor, then. It's an Issue, isn't it? And honestly, if I ever clap eyes on one more Big Sodding Drum, I'll... I'll... well, I don't know what I'll do. But it won't be pretty.

4. The voting went on far, far too long. It was fine in the old days, when only the couple of dozen participating countries on the night voted - but come on, thirty-nine separate juries? Something needs to be done. Watching numbers float about on a screen for the thick end of an hour and a half is not many people's idea of good prime time entertainment. Two of our lot fell fast asleep. Hell, even I started wilting a little.

5. I'm a bit worried about the potential fall-out from the "big four" countries (UK, Germany, France, Spain), who customarily stump up most of the dosh in return for automatic entry to the finals, finishing in the last four positions. Will they get the hump and start withdrawing their funding? Because the alternative - corporate sponsorship - would be a grisly prospect indeed. As I've said before: the day the event turns into the Pepsi Max Eurovision, hosted by Beyoncé, is the day I'll lose interest.

6. There is, however, an obvious solution to the UK's continuing dismal record in the voting. (All together now: POOR Javine!) And that is... devolution! If we adopted the football approach, fielding separate entries for England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, then we could all block-vote for each other, and everyone would be happy. And why not throw in Lundy, Rockall and the Isle Of Man for good measure? Ker-ching! Sorted!

7. Nevertheless, and despite all the above grumbles, my ardour for Eurovision remains resolutely undimmed. So much so, that after two years of watching the contest on the telly, I find myself ready and eager to re-enter the fray. So, Athens 2006, then? I am like so there already. Try keeping me away.

Still hungry for more? Than why not gorge yourselves upon Anna Pickard's live running commentary for Guardian Unlimited? (I'm involved in something similar, which will be appearing on Another Web Site in the fullness of time.)

Alternatively, you could check last night's results on the official scoreboard - where you'll notice that the UK's only votes came from Ireland (English speaking), Malta (ditto), Cyprus (army bases) and Turkey (where Touch My Fire has been a hit).

I am now officially Eurovisionned out. Is there still a world out there? Maybe it's time to step outside and smell the flowers.

(P.S. I am rubbish at making predictions. Worse than last year, in fact. See below for proof. Eight out of twenty-four? And I try to pass myself off as an expert? Pathetic.)

Labels: eurovision, eurovision2005

God, but I'm a glutton for punishment. Here we go again, folks!

(Note: the performance pictures linked below to were all taken at full dress rehearsals, for maximum verisimilitude. More links will follow once the next set of dress rehearsal pictures become available. Nope, sorry: can't find any fully costumed dress rehearsal photos anywhere. Guess we'll have to wait and see on the night after all.)

1. Hungary - Forogj világ - Nox. (photo)

Artistically (ahem) speaking, the Magyar Riverdance will make a splendid start to the contest - although in terms of vote-gathering, being drawn first has probably scuppered its chances of landing inside the Top 10. Nevertheless, the clappity-clappitys and the tappity-tappitys still sound great, and the choreography is... well... Oh look, just forget the song and its earnest cultural aspirations ("ancient Hungarian pentatonic scales" be damned!), ignore the singer, and feast your eyes on the campest dance troupe this side of Bangkok. Particularly Madam down the front, who starts the whole thing off. (As Paddy O'Connell said in his semi-final commentary on BBC3: "I'm sure I've seen some of those boys out in London on a Saturday night".) Who knew that hanging-out-the-washing day in Hungary was such a ritualised event?

Points: 84. Prediction: 11 to 15.
Actual result: 12th. CORRECT.

2. UK - Touch My Fire - Javine.

So, it's the old Slot Of Doom for Poor Javine, then. (No song drawn in second position has ever won Eurovision, you see.) There's also the awkward matter of her chosen idiom, as that whole Blending Of Western & Eastern Influences schtick has been comprehensively done to death this year. So much so, that to save me repeatedly typing the whole thing out each time, I'm going to coin a new acronym: BOWEI. Do you think it will catch on?

Earlier in the week, I was loyally predicting Top 10. Now I think it's fairly unlikely. (Don't worry: we can still blame our continued unpopularity on that warmongering Blair fellow, just like last year.) No, what's needed to save the day is another Nipplegate incident. Come on, Javine! Be a sport and pop 'em out, love!

Points: 77. Prediction: 11 to 15.
Actual result: 22nd. INCORRECT.

3. Malta - Angel - Chiara.

The full-figured and radiantly lovely Chiara came within inches of beating Dana International at Birmingham 1998; it was quite literally down to the very last vote of the night. In the event, she finished third - and ended up spending a few years in a bit of a career wilderness, before bouncing back from obscurity with this equally sweet old-fashioned ballad. Although the song itself may not be the greatest, I'm anticipating a warm, sincere performance from Chiara, who does have an enviable ability of connecting with her audience. And there's the nub of it: for all the gimmickry on display, most winning Eurovision performances retain an irreducible sincerity at their core. Pure showbiz cheese never does it, no matter how flashy the costumes. So I'm sticking my neck out, and predicting Top 5 for this one.

Points: 79. Prediction: 2 to 5.
Actual result: 2nd. CORRECT.

4. Romania - Let Me Try - Luminita Anghel & Sistem. (photo)

In a contest stuffed brimful with Big Drumming, Romania's answer to Stomp wins hands down for the Biggest Drumming of the night. Big huge f**k-off yellow oil-drums a-go-go! Even on the feet! Plus, in a possible homage to the avant-garde German metal-bashers Einstürzende Neubauten, angle grinders! Yes, the "sparks will be flying" in the hall tonight, with this "explosive" performance! (I shall refrain from passing comment on Luminita's extraordinarily globe-like orbs, as I have already mentioned bosoms once, and you might start to get the wrong idea.)

Points: 73. Prediction: 6 to 10.
Actual result: 3rd. INCORRECT.

5. Norway - In My Dreams - WigWam. (photo)

Well, what else is there left to say about these four spandexed hod-carriers d'un certain age and their fantastically exciting brand of 1980s stadium rock, other than WINNERS? (No, that's really not Jessie "Kat Slater" Wallace on vocals. That's a Norwegian fella called "Glam".) Despite an annoying dip in sound quality during their performance, WigWam sailed through the qualifiers, increasing their popularity in the hall ten-fold by attaching a large orange flag to the singer's microphone stand. (Orange being the colour of Ukraine's popular revolution last December, you see.) Gesture of solidarity, or cheap stunt? I know which way I'm leaning. But still: WINNERS!

Points: 92. Prediction: WINNER.
Actual result: 9th. INCORRECT.

6. Turkey - Rimi Rimi Ley - Gülseren.

I'm going to have to quote Paddy O'Connell's BBC3 commentary again: "There can be no ley without rimi rimi". Will Wogan attempt a similar cheeky crack? Methinks not. No, he'll probably stick to the tried and tested "whiff of the souk", as per usual. For we are back on BOWEI territory here, as served up by the country who won the contest two years ago, thus kicking off the whole craze in earnest. Expect some seriously florid choreography here, along with some (yawn) very Big Drumming indeed. (Believe me, you'll never want to look at a Big Drum again after tonight.)

Points: 69. Prediction: 16 to 20.
Actual result: 13th. INCORRECT.

7. Moldova - Bunica Bate Toba - Zdob si Zdub. (photo)

I knew this was going to be good at the semis... but I didn't know it was going to be ABSOLUTELY BLOODY FANTASTIC. Hell, even my long-suffering Europhobic partner K liked it. That's a first! The promised "thrash-folk" turns out to be about eight parts thrash to two parts folk, with proper pogo-ing and everything, and as for the rock-a-beatin' Granny herself... well, you'll see. As the band themselves say: "I smile, I cry when I see that crazy baba, dizzy tempo dizzy, let’s go my music-mama!" (Oh, and is it me, or are they really singing about knickerbocker glories in the chorus?)

Points: 95. Prediction: 2 to 5.
Actual result: 6th. INCORRECT.

8. Albania - Tomorrow I Go - Ledina Çelo.

BOWEI time once again, with most of the usual elements: the strings, the skirlings, the wordless chanting ("di di da, di di da"), the power, the passion... you should know the drill by now. Lyrically, this tells the tale of a trepidatious young bride bidding farewell to her tearful mother on the night before her wedding, in a manner that hints that she might not be entirely thrilled by the prospect. So much so, that you'd think she was being led to the guillotine rather than the altar. Although reports from the rehearsals have been fairly dismal, we should still at least try and offer some encouragement to plucky little Albania, who have only entered the contest once before.

Points: 50. Prediction: 21 to 24.
Actual result: 16th. INCORRECT.

9. Cyprus - Ela Ela - Constantinos Christoforou.

"My persistence is outrageous, you'll be mine cause I'm contagious." In other words, he'll be all over you like a rash. We're already onto the fourth BOWEI of the night, and what more can I tell you: same tempo, same ethnic skirlings, same Big Drums (if a little more muted than some), same wordless chanting ("ela ela ela la")... so far, so formulaic. However, the Cypriot entry spells good news for those of you who have been impatiently awaiting the first appearance of that evergreen Eurovision rhyming couplet: fire (FYE-ya!) and desire (diz-EYE-ya!). Rest assured that it won't be the last.

Points: 63. Prediction: 16 to 20.
Actual result: 18th. CORRECT.

10. Spain - Brujería - Son de Sol.

Brujeria shares a producer with Las Ketchup's The Ketchup Song - and my God, can't you just tell, as this is to all intents and purposes Son Of Ketchup. And why not? The relentless jollity has been cranked up yet another notch, and the whole thing is enlivened greatly by the rambunctious brassiness of Son de Sol, whose vocals have an appealingly fishwifey quality: you're not so much being invited to have fun as being nagged into it, and if you don't jump to your feet this instant, then they're not above getting the rolling-pins out. Besides, how could you not warm to an act whose spare time pursuits include "going to the beach, having drinks with friends, buying nice shoes and not worrying about the time when it comes to putting their make-up on!" My kinda gals!

Points: 74. Prediction: 6 to 10.
Actual result: 21st. INCORRECT.

11. Israel - Hasheket Shenish'ar (The Silence That Remains) - Shiri Maymon. (photo)

One of the major surprises of the semi-finals was Glennis Grace's failure to qualify for the Netherlands, despite a fine performance and some top-notch Big Arm Movements. (I had a great time mirroring them at home, and was going to suggest that you did the same; what fun we would have had together.) However, the biggest and best ballad of the night came instead from Shiri Maymon: a singer with the somewhat artificial look of a Mariah Carey, but with a vocal performance that comes straight from the heart. Proper singing, in other words; a scarce commodity in this section of the contest. As for the song: it's an old-fashioned ballad with a desolately bleak lyric (you can read it in translation here), which describes the suffering at the end of a relationship almost in terms of a junkie going cold turkey. I voted for this on Thursday, and shall probably do so again tonight, as this deserves a strong placing which I fear it will struggle to earn. Philistines, the lot of you!

Points: 86. Prediction: 11 to 15.
Actual result: 4th. INCORRECT.

12. Serbia & Montenegro - Zauvijek Moja - No Name.

Serbia surprised many people by finishing second last year, with a song whose title translated as "Lovely Fawn". Which just shows that you should never discount the power of Balkan bombast (and, OK, a little bit of neighbourly block-voting) - especially when it's served up with this degree of class. Sounding like a Slavic Walker Brothers, but looking like the fresh-faced kids next door, the incongruously youthful No Name deliver a splendidly brooding ballad, backed up with a fine orchestral arrangment, full of swelling strings, thundering kettledrums and gruff yelps of passion. "I'll reach out for you across the Rocky Mountains, take you to my old stone house, and the sound of bells will rise above us and will meet the sky." Ee, that's poetry, that is. Two classy joints in a row? It can't last, can it?

Points: 85. Prediction: 6 to 10.
Actual result: 7th. CORRECT.

13. Denmark - Talking To You - Jacob Sveistrup. (photo)

No, I'm afraid it can't. Denmark's success in the semis was another big surprise - and try as I might, I just cannot fathom the appeal of this utterly routine piece of reggae-tinged jaunty pop. I can only suppose that it made a nice change after all the Big Drumming, gaudy costumes and over-egged dance routines on Thursday night. Anyway, special needs teacher Jacob seems like a nice guy, and as allegedly the first "out" gay singer since Paul Oskar in 1997 - married to his husband for the past five years, with an an adopted child - one feels a certain tribal kinship. But really, this is pants. Toilet break!

Update: Er, hang on. All that "out" gay/husband/adopted child stuff was actually in relation to last year's Danish entrant, wasn't it? That will teach me to recycle information from Saturday's Guardian, then.

Points: 38. Prediction: 16 to 20.
Actual result: 10th. INCORRECT.

14. Sweden - Las Vegas - Martin Stenmarck.

And you can take your time as well, because this is scarcely any better. Did it really knock out Alcazar, Shirley Clamp, Nanne Gronvall, Bodies Without Organs and Pay TV in the "Melodifestivalen" national qualifiers? Why, Sweden, why? Because this is pure cornball cheese: a showbizzy homage to Las Vegas, which tips a stylistic nod at Tom Jones along the way. Martin Stenmarck's performance is slick and energetic, and is not without its supporters, but this just ain't doing it for me. If you're back from the loo early, then go and grab yourself something from the kitchen. And once again, there's no hurry...

Points: 40. Prediction: 16 to 20.
Actual result: 19th. CORRECT.

15. F.Y.R. Macedonia - Make My Day - Martin Vicic. (photo)

...because this equally baffling qualifier from the semis makes it three duds in a row, I'm afraid. Apparently, this is the one which really set tongues wagging in Kyiv throughout Friday, the question "WHY Macedonia?" practically bouncing off the walls of the press area. The usual arrangement of BOWEI clichés, basically. You can probably draw up your own list by now: gypsy flutes CHECK, nasty skirling indigenous pipe thing CHECK, invisible lesbian drummers CHECK, dramatic key change CHECK. Anyway, it's the one about cuddly toys, sung by the "grandson of a famous bagpipe player". Let's hope he ditches that awful pink jacket, at least.

Points: 53. Prediction: 16 to 20.
Actual result: 17th. CORRECT.

16. Ukraine - Razom nas bohato - Greenjolly.

Right, how long have you got? There was a lengthy article in Thursday's Guardian about this, which tells you all you need to know about this song's background as the popular anthem of December's "Orange Revolution". Basically, this is just one endlessly repeated rock-rap chant - "razom nas bohato, nas ne podolaty" - which translates as "together we are many, we cannot be defeated". The overtly political lyrics, which originally mentioned President Yushchenko by name, have since been toned down, following a proclamation from on high that Eurovision songs should not be political in content. Nevertheless, they're still pretty damned direct: "We won't stand this - no! Revolution is on! 'Cause lies be the weapon of mass destruction!" Hang on, didn't Faithless sing something similar last year?

It goes without saying that this performance will cause flag-waving hysteria in the hall, and it therefore seems churlish to point out that the song itself is rudimentary at best, and therefore not destined to do well in the voting. But as emotionally charged moments go, these three minutes will take a lot of beating.

Points: 51. Prediction: 11 to 15.
Actual result: 20th. INCORRECT.

17. Germany - Run And Hide - Gracia.

If this year's Eurovision has one new musical trend, then I guess it has to be rock, with exactly a quarter of this year's finalists being rock tracks of some description. Having said that, Run And Hide is basically Schlager-pop in rock drag, co-composed as it is by that irrepressible old hack Bernd Meinunger, hiding behind the newly adopted pseudonym of "John O'Flynn". This will be the 13th German Eurovision entry in which Meinunger has had a hand, including 1982's winning song for Nicole (A Little Peace) - and that's not counting his work for other countries, including this year's entry for Switzerland (see below). The man is an unstoppable force, basically.

The other German/Swiss co-composer, one David Brandes, has found himself in the centre of a hyping scandal involving this song, as a result of which he has been officially banned from travelling to Kyiv with the German delegation. Which is somewhat immaterial when you consider that he'll be there with the Swiss delegation anyway. Ooh, I bet there'll be tension in that Green Room tonight.

You'll notice that I haven't said much about the song itself. There's a reason for that. Shall we just say "uninspiring" and leave it at that?

Points: 44. Prediction: 21 to 24.
Actual result: 24th. CORRECT.

18. Croatia - Vukovi Umiru Sami - Boris Novkovic. (photo)

And back to the Baltic bombast we go. In 3/4 waltz tempo. With a man blowing into a haggis. And a deeply annoying "I'm mad, me" Big Drummer, who all but wrecks the entire mood of the song by coming to the front of the stage during its climax and doing a handstand. Ours not to question why. Not as good as the Serbian entry, but that choral work towards the end is really quite something.

Points: 65. Prediction: 6 to 10.
Actual result: 11th. INCORRECT.

19. Greece - My Number One - Helena Paparizou.

It's the bookies' favourite! Helena was last seen in 2001, coming third with her band Antique, and the dare-I-say-classic (I Would) Die For You. Her performance was a bit on the sulky side that night, so let's hope she cheers up for this infectious slice of prime-cut BOWEI goodness. Of the night's six BOWEI songs (the others being the UK, Turkey, Albania, Cyprus and Macedonia), My Number One is the last and the best, tweaking that well-worn formula to perfection. Assuming you can bear to hear one more sodding gypsy fiddle, that is. Most importantly of all, its impact is immediate; none of that "grows on you" nonsense here.

This also marks the second FYE-ya! diz-EYE-ya! rhyme of the night - but where Cyprus was happy to leave it at that, Greece goes one better, tacking on a cheeky take me HYE-ya! for good measure. It's little touches like that which make all the difference. To say nothing of rhyming delicious, capricious and vicious in the first verse. Take that, Cyprus! Not that any of this will affect the ritual swapping of the Greek-Cypriot douze points later on, of course.

Points: 78. Prediction: 2 to 5.
Actual result: 1st. INCORRECT.

20. Russia - Nobody Hurt No-One - Natalia Podolskaya.

It's Avril Lavigneski! Hang on, weren't we cracking the same joke last year? Ah well, no matter. There's virtue in consistency. Lyrically, this is a relatively high-minded attempt to discuss the American gun control situation, particularly in relation to the recent spree of high-school killings - an attempt which is somewhat undermined by its choice of "little Erica" as the song's young heroine, purely because she rhymes with "America". I started off hating this. I've softened up a bit since then, but Eurovision and "meaningful" still make uneasy bedfellows, and I can't see this attracting more than the usual neighbourly block votes.

Points: 49. Prediction: 21 to 24.
Actual result: 15th. INCORRECT.

21. Bosnia & Herzegovina - Call Me - Feminnem.

Right then. If your idea of a good Eurovision song is still "one that sounds a bit like Abba", then this is the moment you've been waiting for. There are also strong echoes of 1999's winning entry for Sweden, Charlotte Nilsson's Take Me To Your Heaven, in this frothy, upbeat, happy-go-lucky confection. Yes, I suppose you can say that it's "camp" - but I prefer my camp to be less clinically calculated than this. I know, how curmudgeonly. What am I, the gate-keeper of kitsch?

Still: full marks for calling yourselves Feminnem, I guess. Naturally, they've all got nicknames: Sexy, Baby and Fancy. See if you can work out which is which! And are they really singing "united in the song that fornicates"? Ladies, really!

It's perhaps worth mentioning that a "leading musicologist" has been dredged up from somewhere, to run some sort of detailed "comparative analysis" on the Eurovision entries from all fifty contests. (And you thought I was a glutton for punishment?) His considered verdict: that Abba's Waterloo is the most perfectly constructed Eurovision song of all time, and that Feminnem's Call Me is the most perfectly constructed of this year's entries. Academics, eh? What do they know?

Points: 70. Prediction: 2 to 5.
Actual result: 14th. INCORRECT.

22. Switzerland - Cool Vibes - Vanilla Ninja. (photo)

How are you holding up out there? Chins up! The end is in sight! And here are Ver Ninje, come to lift our spirits with a little touch of neo-Goth in the night. "Why don't you kill me?", they chirrup. "Can't you see we're free to die?", they trill, no doubt echoing the thoughts of thousands of long-suffering spouses and partners who are wondering why they didn't go down the pub instead of staying in to watch this load of old nonsense. Could this pick up the protest vote from the silent majority? Or will it simply do well because Ver Ninje are actually an Estonian band, and will therefore unite both the powerful Baltic and Germanic blocks of voters? There are some shrewd tactics being played out there.

Points: 56. Prediction: 11 to 15.
Actual result: 8th. INCORRECT.

23. Latvia - The War is Not Over - Valters & Kaža. (photo)

Good grief, Europe! What is wrong with you, that you should have voted this dismal dirge through from the Thursday night semis? Were you really charmed by the use of sign language in the middle - which, as the great Paddy O'Connell pointed out, ended up looking less like sign language and more like a Steps dance routine? Come on Europe - they're playing you for fools! Listen to the lyrics! They don't MEAN anything! It's just a load of old twaddle strung together, that sounds vaguely "deep" if you don't actually stop and analyse it! Trust me! I research these things so that you don't have to!

Hmm. I think cabin fever might be setting in. This is, after all, the 58th "capsule review" that I've written for this year's contest, if you include 10 for Time Out magazine and 25 for the semi-finals. I can hear the birds singing outside, the catmint in the garden needs cutting back, and I've not even shaved or brushed my teeth yet today, so great is my desire to get these things posted on the web before lunchtime. But hey, enough about me. Can I just point out that the young chap on the left is a dead ringer for Brie Vanderkamp's not-gay-after-all teenage son on Desperate Housewives?

Points: 34. Prediction: 6 to 10.
Actual result: 5th. INCORRECT.

24. France - Chacun Pense a Soi - Ortal.

With few natural allies to count on, France rarely do well in the contest these days - and it is therefore to their credit that they never attempt to play any of the more obvious vote-grabbing games, instead submitting worthy ballad after worthy ballad, year after year. This is more uptempo than most, with alleged Berber/Andalusian influences, and a lyric which wags a disapproving finger at the selfishness which undermines so much of today's society. Unfortunately, the moral high ground is rather snatched from under France's feet, as the distinctive Berber/Andalusian vocal inflections does make it sound as if they're singing about shagging a man. Listen carefully, and you'll see what I mean.

Points: 55. Prediction: 21 to 24.
Actual result: 23rd. CORRECT.

My ten favourites:
1. Moldova (thrash-folk Granny-bashing)
2. Norway (slappers in spandex)
3. Israel (classy Carey)
4. Serbia & Montenegro (Balkan bombast boyband)
5. Hungary (clappity-tappity)
6. Malta (big and beautiful)
7. Greece (vicious, capricious, delic