For the past 10 years, the Eurovision Song Contest has provided a musical metaphor for Britain’s relationship with the European Union. We submit an appalling entry, chosen because we assume the continentals like trash. They don’t, and tend to give us nul points. We then assume we are victims of discrimination, that Eurovision is an exercise in continental intrigues that we wouldn’t want to win anyway.
But while Britain sneers, Eurovision has evolved into the world’s most popular and complex entertainment show, with the largest television audience of any non-sporting event. It has never been just about the music, and that’s the joy of it. Eurovision is a collision of power, politics, music and culture, and victory goes to those who best adjust for the fact.
At its heart lies the competition to produce the most powerful medium of all: a tune that somehow lodges itself in the back of heads from Reykjavik to Morocco. It is a battle that Britain could win every year – if we stopped to see what’s happening.
The key to understanding Britain’s failure at Eurovision is to understand its rules. Most countries have national competitions to decide their winners, and judge them on the performance and choreography as much as the music. Sweden now hires foreign juries, to give an outsiders’ view. This year, the foreigners actually overturned the verdict of the Swedes, which caused outrage for a couple of days. Tomorrow night, half of the Swedish population will be cheering on Robin, a Justin Bieber epigone whose entry reached No 1 in the Swedish charts. Britain’s entry – Bonnie Tyler – has not registered in our top 100.
The BBC controls our entry because it pays so much to the European Broadcasting Union. For this, we’re guaranteed a place in the final, to the fury of the other nations, who can see how little effort we put into it. Our entry is chosen by an anonymous BBC official, who evidently has a supercilious disregard for the whole show. The corporation is in many ways a national treasure and excels at news, drama, radio and documentaries, but it is baffled by popular culture. It has proven itself to be the Ukip of Eurovision, fielding candidates in a foreign contest that it holds up to ridicule.
There are complicated factors at play, and yet the BBC seems blind to them. The winning song needs to cut across the boundaries of 39 countries, with wildly different musical traditions. Eurovision is an annual search for a common currency – everyone wants to do a Lili Marlene. During the war, this tune was popular with troops on all sides, and has become one of the most enduring and evocative songs of the last century. The right Eurovision song can do this, smashing through political, cultural and linguistic boundaries. Abba’s Waterloo has lost none of its explosive power over the decades. Italy’s 1958 entry, Volare, is still sung all over the continent, wherever beer is served late enough.
Music is just the first level. The lyrics need to make some kind of sense to 60 million people who speak 32 languages. Or countries can score by going to the other extreme and exude ethnic pride. As the European people have lost interest in “ever closer union”, so Eurovision scores have tended to reward self-proud ethnic styles.
Ukraine’s Ruslana won in 2006 with a song that started with the trembitas, an alpine horn used by Hutsul shepherds. Level three lies in the political zeitgeist: the ability of a Eurovision entry to articulate the historical moment. It can be a girl from 1970 Londonderry or 1982 West Germany singing about peace. Finland’s entry is about gay marriage, hoping to capture the mood this year.
The Terry Wogan approach to Eurovision – that it is a parade of foreigners for us to laugh at – was entertaining but out of date long before he quit. Eurovision has mutated into a complex musical and political festival with a broader constituency embracing countries the EU is keeping at arm’s length. It is one of the few arenas where countries like Moldova and Armenia can be welcomed into the comity of Western nations. They tend to sing their hearts out as a result, and victory means the world. Ukraine’s Orange Revolution, a protest against the Kremlin’s enduring influence, came months after its Eurovision win.
A YouGov poll this week suggests 75 per cent of Brits blame our Eurovision defeats on a discriminatory block vote system. This is nonsense: we do badly because our songs are dreadful. Yet Britain exports music worldwide. Our artists accounted for one in every six records bought in France and Germany last year. Adele, Mumford and Sons and One Direction recorded four of America’s five best-selling albums.
Our nation’s musical talent is immense, and much of it as international as the contest itself. This sums up our European problem perfectly: on a people-to-people level, relations are great. But when you get institutions involved, it all turns sour.
We could win Eurovision every year, if we chose. We just need to try.
When I find myself in times of trouble
Greece comes on to me
speaking words of wisdom
alcohol is free
I'm not sure where I could find a list of the bookmakers' favourites for each year. Besides, the favourites often change in the run-up to a show; the favourite one week before the final might not be the same as the favourite after the semi-finals. I think they're pretty accurate, though, bookmakers. Probably because they look at things like the running orderEdit: Flint, you should rather do statistics on how many of the bookmaker's favorites has won over the past 10 years.
The BBC used to run a show like that. That's how you ended up selecting such illustrious talent as Daz Sampson and Scooch I agree that the selection process should be transparent, but it doesn't guarantee results. It might also be unrealistic to expect all the participants to write their own songs; that's quite unusual for Eurovision. Alexander Rybak in 2009 was the last winner to have self-composed.I think they need to do some sort of X-factor style audition for it, only with people who write and perform their own songs - this would give them some sort of integrity.
The running order aren't decided until after the Semi's. Pretty sure you can find statistics fairly easy, all the big bookmakers have web sites, it's a huge dealI'm not sure where I could find a list of the bookmakers' favourites for each year. Besides, the favourites often change in the run-up to a show; the favourite one week before the final might not be the same as the favourite after the semi-finals. I think they're pretty accurate, though, bookmakers. Probably because they look at things like the running order
I know, but bookmakers update their odds afterwards. Denmark's odds shortened dramatically and Finland dropped from 9th to 12th favourites on OddsChecker after the running order was decided.The running order aren't decided until after the Semi's.
I've been on a fair few betting websites and I've never seen a list of past odds. I know Betfair keep records, but you need to be an active customer to view them, and I'm not.Pretty sure you can find statistics fairly easy, all the big bookmakers have web sites, it's a huge deal
Oh and I guess its pointless saying it now but I think Norway should have won
fixxedI only saw the internet exploding but luckily some dude on the internet explained Eurovision to me from a British point of view
I got a text from a friend that said: "Jafar looks good.".
* Some journalists in Lithuania are claiming they have proof two men part of an organized league traveled around several countries paying people to vote for Azerbaijan. ESC so far says they believe the proof is fake.