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ALL KINDS OF EVERYTHING ON A THURSDAY NIGHT
John Cleere
Kilkenny Advertiser, Ireland
May 24 2006
This is a serious music column for serious music fans. With that in
mind I sat down last Thursday to watch and listen to the semi-final
of the Eurovision Song Contest. Twenty three countries sang, danced
and undressed for nearly two hours. I can now wear the Tee-shirt that
says "I sat through a whole Eurovision show and survived".
It started out with Armenia, who sounded very Armenian. The backing
singers spent most of the song trying to tie up the main guy with
strips of leather. If they did not like the song they could have just
told him so. Bulgaria next, then Slovenia who sang the immortal line,
"You came to me at night, like a ray of light". To which I hum,
"and your song is really s**te". Twenty more to go and I'm beginning
to doubt whether I will stick it out.
Andorra has girls dressed only in underwear, Belarus has a guy with
his underpants on over his jeans. I think I'm going mad. Brian Kennedy
comes on and restores some sanity. Sensible clothes and a sensible song
from Ireland. I am writing this before the results are in. Prediction:
he hasn't a hope in hell. Double chins and well clad backing singers
in nice frocks are not what this party is all about.
The male backing singer looks as if he has strayed in off the set of
the Father Ted Euro Song episode. Halfway through the performance
Brian Kennedy goes down on his knees. Did someone shoot him? Is
he praying? He gets back up and finishes the song on a high note,
literally.
A few more countries flash by then it's Poland. They actually manage
to sound a bit Irish and one of them even has green hair. They mix
a rapper and some medieval sounds, a bit like Damien Dempsey meets
Clannad. This is one step too far in the current Irish/Polish mutual
admiration society. Finland send on a heavy metal band in costumes and
masks, Lord of the Rings meets Spinal Tap. Lordi is their name and they
proceed to try to dismantle the arena. Great stuff, they have not won
it in forty years and this is not going to be any different. Lithuania
is very confident as they sing, "We are the winners of Eurovision". I
don't think so boys. The final act is a lady called Sylvia Night
from Iceland. The most prominent line in her song is "You rubbish
nation". Honesty is not a good policy at this event. This does not
go down too well and she leaves to a chorus of boos and catcalls. I
reach for the phone. Number 23 please, I feel like I am ordering a
Chinese takeaway, but Iceland get my vote. It takes guts to stand up
in front of 16,000 fanatics and manage to insult them all.
The sand flows through the biggest egg timer in the world and soon
the ten minute voting period is up. Marty Whelan gets excited as
the qualifiers are announced. Russia, Macedonia, Bosnia, Lithuania
(the guys who sang "We are the winners of Eurovision", how did they
know?), Finland. Ukraine. I sit back with an 'I told you so, Ireland
haven't a hope smirk'. Then qualifier number nine is announced. It's
Ireland! Marty goes ballistic, you would think we had won the World
Cup, the Lotto and three All Irelands in a row. That's it, we have
to sit through it all again on Saturday. You must be joking, Munster
versus Biarritz takes priority. Now that's where you will hear some
real singing.
*I have just looked up Ms Sylvia Night's website. Seemingly she was
not singing "Rubbish Nation". What she sang was "Eurovision Nation".
What got the crowd so upset were lines like the following:
"Born in Reykjavik in a different league - no damn eurotrashfreak
The vote is in, they say I win.
Too bad for all the others.
Hello is it God?
What's up dog?
It's your favourite person in the world Sylvia Night
I'm saving the world".
No sense of humour these eurotrashfreaks.
From: Baghdasarian
John Cleere
Kilkenny Advertiser, Ireland
May 24 2006
This is a serious music column for serious music fans. With that in
mind I sat down last Thursday to watch and listen to the semi-final
of the Eurovision Song Contest. Twenty three countries sang, danced
and undressed for nearly two hours. I can now wear the Tee-shirt that
says "I sat through a whole Eurovision show and survived".
It started out with Armenia, who sounded very Armenian. The backing
singers spent most of the song trying to tie up the main guy with
strips of leather. If they did not like the song they could have just
told him so. Bulgaria next, then Slovenia who sang the immortal line,
"You came to me at night, like a ray of light". To which I hum,
"and your song is really s**te". Twenty more to go and I'm beginning
to doubt whether I will stick it out.
Andorra has girls dressed only in underwear, Belarus has a guy with
his underpants on over his jeans. I think I'm going mad. Brian Kennedy
comes on and restores some sanity. Sensible clothes and a sensible song
from Ireland. I am writing this before the results are in. Prediction:
he hasn't a hope in hell. Double chins and well clad backing singers
in nice frocks are not what this party is all about.
The male backing singer looks as if he has strayed in off the set of
the Father Ted Euro Song episode. Halfway through the performance
Brian Kennedy goes down on his knees. Did someone shoot him? Is
he praying? He gets back up and finishes the song on a high note,
literally.
A few more countries flash by then it's Poland. They actually manage
to sound a bit Irish and one of them even has green hair. They mix
a rapper and some medieval sounds, a bit like Damien Dempsey meets
Clannad. This is one step too far in the current Irish/Polish mutual
admiration society. Finland send on a heavy metal band in costumes and
masks, Lord of the Rings meets Spinal Tap. Lordi is their name and they
proceed to try to dismantle the arena. Great stuff, they have not won
it in forty years and this is not going to be any different. Lithuania
is very confident as they sing, "We are the winners of Eurovision". I
don't think so boys. The final act is a lady called Sylvia Night
from Iceland. The most prominent line in her song is "You rubbish
nation". Honesty is not a good policy at this event. This does not
go down too well and she leaves to a chorus of boos and catcalls. I
reach for the phone. Number 23 please, I feel like I am ordering a
Chinese takeaway, but Iceland get my vote. It takes guts to stand up
in front of 16,000 fanatics and manage to insult them all.
The sand flows through the biggest egg timer in the world and soon
the ten minute voting period is up. Marty Whelan gets excited as
the qualifiers are announced. Russia, Macedonia, Bosnia, Lithuania
(the guys who sang "We are the winners of Eurovision", how did they
know?), Finland. Ukraine. I sit back with an 'I told you so, Ireland
haven't a hope smirk'. Then qualifier number nine is announced. It's
Ireland! Marty goes ballistic, you would think we had won the World
Cup, the Lotto and three All Irelands in a row. That's it, we have
to sit through it all again on Saturday. You must be joking, Munster
versus Biarritz takes priority. Now that's where you will hear some
real singing.
*I have just looked up Ms Sylvia Night's website. Seemingly she was
not singing "Rubbish Nation". What she sang was "Eurovision Nation".
What got the crowd so upset were lines like the following:
"Born in Reykjavik in a different league - no damn eurotrashfreak
The vote is in, they say I win.
Too bad for all the others.
Hello is it God?
What's up dog?
It's your favourite person in the world Sylvia Night
I'm saving the world".
No sense of humour these eurotrashfreaks.
From: Baghdasarian