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The UK - Where do we go from here?
It's been clear something has been rotten in the state of British Eurovisionism for some time, but after this year's sorry showing it is more and more pressing that something drastic has to be done.
I really don't know what the BBC were thinking this year. As we all noted a few dozen times before the contest, there wasn't anything necessarily wrong with the good Mr Abraham per se, he was merely a nice man singing a nice song in a horrible suit - but there was absolutely nothing that you could hang your nasty blue jacket on about the song.
It was almost as if the BBC felt a little embarrassed about its last two years' offerings and decided to go anoynmous, hoping that something ordinary an uncurrent would sneak in somewhere mid table. But it was clear from the very outset that they'd made an extraordinarily retrogressive step when they announced the format of the revamped Eurovision: Your Decision.
Say what you like about Making Your Mind Up, at least it had a try. It got, for the most part, moderately well known acts involved, and did at least engender some modicum of involvement in the viewers. But E:YD came over as a garbled, ill-conceived mess. Half an idea stretched into a faltering concept, that was tricky to follow and lacking in any dynamism.
It also underlined where the UK has been going wrong these past few years. Until the mass involvement of the more Eastern nations, Eurovision had always been a light entertainment show - a cosy Saturday night in. But unhindered by the boum-bang-a-loo legacy of Eurovision, the old Warsaw Pact mob have brought it near screaming to the present day, turning the thing dang nearly into a music show. But we don't appear to have got that yet. Indeed, by sending cosy Saturday night entertainers from cosy casting shows, we clearly haven't been thinking too straight.
Over the many weeks of a Joseph & Mary Chain type show, we'll get to know the personalities of the on screen contestors, fall in love with them and find their grannies amusing. So when they pop up on the box in whatever the next Eurovision casting show is going to be called we'll go, "Oh yes, I liked that binman - he had a lovely wife and kids!" And of course when it gets to a busy Saturday night in May, the good punters of Europe will merely mumble "Who's that shuffling amateur singing a polite but ordinary song? NEXT!" In three heady minutes, the very thing we loved about the unfortunate cove will be his ultimate downfall. Light entertainment's steady conveyor belt of happy-go-lucky chumps stretching out another slightly worthy soul's fifteen minutes by another painful few seconds.
So where do we go from here?
Well following Spain's egalitarian model and opeing the thing out to the masses on MySpace would be a cracking idea - although it would almost certainly ensure that Bill Bailey would provide our next entry. And as funny and musically talented as he is, I'm not convinced that's where our immediate future should lay.
Then we could have a try at catering our entry to the contemporary flavours of the contest. And I don't mean by witlessly chucking out a piece of faux Eastern whimsy, ala Javine - a decent enough song completely out trumped by a winning song that truly meant it. But we missed a cracking opportunity in Kiev to send a band like The Ukrainians - a British band of Eastern heritage playing in the local idiom, who also happen to be able to write a stompingly good singalong tune. One that would have been remembered, for a while at least, as having had a go, rather than trying to be Saturday night cool. But while it may seem on the outset like a good idea, it could quickly decent into laziness, chasing the last big thing or trying to second guess the next one. For an object lesson in this, just look at how poorly this year's Maltese entry fared, with it's attempted pandering to the East. And that's not to mention poor Dustin.
Personally, I've always thought we ought to have more variation on the list - and not just the eight sides of the same coin stuff we were presented with in the last few MYMUs. For years I've been lobbying the BBC to save a slot for at least one so-called alternative or indie act in the Song For Europe ranks. We wouldn't miss one bland spot of pop from some hapless hopeful, if there was a decent bit of stomping rock in the pile. And then I got thinking about how cool it would be if Jools Holland took over the thing, just for a year. Let him choose the acts, commission them to write a song each for it, and hold it Later-style, in the round, with an entirely different slant on the performances. We're in a position, at least for the near forseeable, where we're in the final anyway. So why not take a leaf out of France's book and send someone who doesn't stand Bob Hope of getting many points, but who would offer a genuinely jaw dropping moment of marvelousness?
But now I've developed this plan even further. Why not just make next year's Mercury Prize shortlist our Song For Europe line up? Our music industry proper is still the envy of the world, and these are the artists chosen by the labels as the cream of the widest range of UK musics possible. There's great pop, massive rock, strange folksy business and indescribe oddness. But it's all mostly fabulous, and totally and unashamedly British.
Cast a look down the list of last year's nominees. Arctic Monkeys, Dizzee Rascal, Amy Winehouse, Jamie T, Klaxons, Bat For Lashes, Fionn Regan, New Young Pony Club, The View, Young Knives, Maps & Basquiat Strings - a panopoly of stuff we're brilliant at and artists we should be truly proud of. You may not have heard of all of them, but you bet your life they know how to perform the heck out of a song. Admittedly there may be a few of them who may decide that Eurovision wasn't quite their thing, but how would be ever know if we don't ask. I know from my years interviewing bands as a music journo that there were many acts you wouldn't immediately assosciate with Eurovision who would have jumped at the chance. So why not put it out to tender and see if they bite.
Alternatively we could just send Motorhead and be damned. How flipping brilliant would that be!
I really don't know what the BBC were thinking this year. As we all noted a few dozen times before the contest, there wasn't anything necessarily wrong with the good Mr Abraham per se, he was merely a nice man singing a nice song in a horrible suit - but there was absolutely nothing that you could hang your nasty blue jacket on about the song.
It was almost as if the BBC felt a little embarrassed about its last two years' offerings and decided to go anoynmous, hoping that something ordinary an uncurrent would sneak in somewhere mid table. But it was clear from the very outset that they'd made an extraordinarily retrogressive step when they announced the format of the revamped Eurovision: Your Decision.
Say what you like about Making Your Mind Up, at least it had a try. It got, for the most part, moderately well known acts involved, and did at least engender some modicum of involvement in the viewers. But E:YD came over as a garbled, ill-conceived mess. Half an idea stretched into a faltering concept, that was tricky to follow and lacking in any dynamism.
It also underlined where the UK has been going wrong these past few years. Until the mass involvement of the more Eastern nations, Eurovision had always been a light entertainment show - a cosy Saturday night in. But unhindered by the boum-bang-a-loo legacy of Eurovision, the old Warsaw Pact mob have brought it near screaming to the present day, turning the thing dang nearly into a music show. But we don't appear to have got that yet. Indeed, by sending cosy Saturday night entertainers from cosy casting shows, we clearly haven't been thinking too straight.
Over the many weeks of a Joseph & Mary Chain type show, we'll get to know the personalities of the on screen contestors, fall in love with them and find their grannies amusing. So when they pop up on the box in whatever the next Eurovision casting show is going to be called we'll go, "Oh yes, I liked that binman - he had a lovely wife and kids!" And of course when it gets to a busy Saturday night in May, the good punters of Europe will merely mumble "Who's that shuffling amateur singing a polite but ordinary song? NEXT!" In three heady minutes, the very thing we loved about the unfortunate cove will be his ultimate downfall. Light entertainment's steady conveyor belt of happy-go-lucky chumps stretching out another slightly worthy soul's fifteen minutes by another painful few seconds.
So where do we go from here?
Well following Spain's egalitarian model and opeing the thing out to the masses on MySpace would be a cracking idea - although it would almost certainly ensure that Bill Bailey would provide our next entry. And as funny and musically talented as he is, I'm not convinced that's where our immediate future should lay.
Then we could have a try at catering our entry to the contemporary flavours of the contest. And I don't mean by witlessly chucking out a piece of faux Eastern whimsy, ala Javine - a decent enough song completely out trumped by a winning song that truly meant it. But we missed a cracking opportunity in Kiev to send a band like The Ukrainians - a British band of Eastern heritage playing in the local idiom, who also happen to be able to write a stompingly good singalong tune. One that would have been remembered, for a while at least, as having had a go, rather than trying to be Saturday night cool. But while it may seem on the outset like a good idea, it could quickly decent into laziness, chasing the last big thing or trying to second guess the next one. For an object lesson in this, just look at how poorly this year's Maltese entry fared, with it's attempted pandering to the East. And that's not to mention poor Dustin.
Personally, I've always thought we ought to have more variation on the list - and not just the eight sides of the same coin stuff we were presented with in the last few MYMUs. For years I've been lobbying the BBC to save a slot for at least one so-called alternative or indie act in the Song For Europe ranks. We wouldn't miss one bland spot of pop from some hapless hopeful, if there was a decent bit of stomping rock in the pile. And then I got thinking about how cool it would be if Jools Holland took over the thing, just for a year. Let him choose the acts, commission them to write a song each for it, and hold it Later-style, in the round, with an entirely different slant on the performances. We're in a position, at least for the near forseeable, where we're in the final anyway. So why not take a leaf out of France's book and send someone who doesn't stand Bob Hope of getting many points, but who would offer a genuinely jaw dropping moment of marvelousness?
But now I've developed this plan even further. Why not just make next year's Mercury Prize shortlist our Song For Europe line up? Our music industry proper is still the envy of the world, and these are the artists chosen by the labels as the cream of the widest range of UK musics possible. There's great pop, massive rock, strange folksy business and indescribe oddness. But it's all mostly fabulous, and totally and unashamedly British.
Cast a look down the list of last year's nominees. Arctic Monkeys, Dizzee Rascal, Amy Winehouse, Jamie T, Klaxons, Bat For Lashes, Fionn Regan, New Young Pony Club, The View, Young Knives, Maps & Basquiat Strings - a panopoly of stuff we're brilliant at and artists we should be truly proud of. You may not have heard of all of them, but you bet your life they know how to perform the heck out of a song. Admittedly there may be a few of them who may decide that Eurovision wasn't quite their thing, but how would be ever know if we don't ask. I know from my years interviewing bands as a music journo that there were many acts you wouldn't immediately assosciate with Eurovision who would have jumped at the chance. So why not put it out to tender and see if they bite.
Alternatively we could just send Motorhead and be damned. How flipping brilliant would that be!
