First let’s make one thing clear: Eurovision is, undeniably, political. In fact, it’s getting more political each year. With around 180 million viewers annually, Eurovision is a unique PR opportunity for countries eager to boost their public image. It’s not for nothing that, following his country’s banishment from the contest, Putin himself is personally instigating plans for a rival ‘Intervision’ song contest, featuring only Russia-friendly states. Israel, still allowed to compete for the time being, blatantly use the contest as a soft power tool, entering heartfelt power ballads seemingly as a plea for sympathy. And perhaps Brits can be somewhat justified in decrying ‘sympathy votes’ when Ukraine powered past Sam Ryder to win the 2022 edition, although Ukraine’s dominance in the contest predates any Russian invasion.
Nonetheless, accusations of political voting are often blown out of proportion when Eurovision is discussed on these isles. Yes, neighbouring countries often vote for each other, but in my mind this is much more likely a result of shared cultures, diaspora and musical tastes, rather than vague ideas of political companionship. In the midst of the UK’s recent Eurovision pity parties it’s easily forgotten how dominant we once were. We’ve won the contest five times, a feat only bested by Ireland and Sweden (seven wins each). In fact, peaceful, liberal, pro-EU Ireland has suffered a downturn even more extreme than ours, qualifying for the final only twice since 2014. To use the prevailing logic, the poor Irish must have somehow transformed from the heroes of Europe to its hated runt. Our own dramatic downturn came not in the referendum year of 2016, but in 2003, when Jemini scored our first 0-points finish (we’ve finished in last place four more times since). It’s up to you to pick your geopolitical crisis to attribute that one to. The Iraq War perhaps? The decline of Blair’s Labour? Or maybe Chris Cromby’s vocals were just horribly pitchy?
In fact, we struggle not because Europe hates us, but because we believe they do. There was once a time we sent some of our biggest stars to the contest – Olivia Newton-John, Brotherhood of Man, Cliff Richard twice – but today the UK is defeatist, reluctantly sending C-list popstars whilst quietly hoping the inevitable embarrassment won’t hurt their feelings too much. We’re convinced Eurovision is all meaningless pop pap, and so we send just that: James Newman awkwardly dancing in front of a giant trumpet, Electro Velvet performing atrocious ‘electro-swing’ music, Scooch asking if we’d like something to suck on for landing.
Alas, we’re yet to figure out that a winning Eurovision entry is much more than eye-catching visuals. Last year’s winner, Nemo’s ‘The Code’, was a work of art, the singer leaping across a dynamic stage prop whilst switching effortlessly from punchy rap to soaring opera. Even when the winner has been on the ostentatious side – Finland’s hard rock monsters in 2006, Israel’s chicken noises in 2018 - underpinning the chaos has always been a well-written, catchy piece of music. If only we could stop wallowing in our self-pity, pick ourselves up and start sending some serious pop, there’s absolutely no reason why we can’t win the whole thing. Sam Ryder’s remarkable second place finish in 2022 proved just that, an anomaly which the British Eurovision nay-sayers still don’t know quite how to explain. The truth is simple: ‘Space Man’ was a great song.
There are definite signs of improvement, and Sam Ryder’s success has triggered renewed British interest in Eurovision. It resulted in Liverpool hosting the following contest, and Hannah Waddingham and Graham Norton shone in what was genuinely the best-produced edition of Eurovision in recent years. Last year’s pick of bona fide popstar Olly Alexander was a sign that the British delegation are starting to take things more seriously, although his unfortunate last place finish may make the UK think twice about selecting another big name star. Like political kudos, pre-existing artist popularity often doesn’t count for much in the Eurovision Song Contest. The clue’s in the title: it’s all about the song, as well as the accompanying stage show. Yes, it can help if the song is bold, weird and camp, but underestimate the musical and artistic value of Eurovision at your peril. We really could win Eurovision in the next few years. The first step is believing it.