Hello & welcome to a celebration of the finest pan--European annual musical jamboree known to man, the Eurovision Song Contest. Now you may find the whole idea of the Eurosong a touch passé, a bit old fashioned, uncool perhaps, or maybe a tad too much for your sensibilities. You'd be utterly wrong of course but if you are thinking of browsing off this site, "before you leave let me show you Tel Aviv". The city proclaimed somewhere as the "Mediterranean capital of cool" and self proclaimed elsewhere as "gay capital of the Middle East" (which is a bit like calling Ukraine the most politically neutral Eurovision nation) is the latest far flung host city. Obviously the majority of damp fan could be happier with this year's host city, the drier fan is baulking at the eye watering ticket prices, and the non-fan is piling on the moral and political indignation, whilst ignoring the joyous musical tat on display.

It's another relatively low rent year, which is particularly apparent when the Dutch are the pre-rehearsal favourites. A nation that last saw success a paltry 44 years ago, Duncan the lowlander may well be dinge donging his bells in celebration come the 18th May. Mark my words.

Apart from the location of the show, this year has been notable for the now slightly laughable Ukraine/Russia tit for tat which this time around has resulted in Ukraine withdrawing from the contest. The now obligatory heavy handed political intervention in the country backfired rather spectacularly when the winner of their national contest refused to sign up to the main show, closely followed by the 2nd and 3rd place acts, leaving Ukraine little alternative but to send their apologies. Shambles.
Talking of shambles thoughts inevitably turn to Blighty, where the Scandi cool of Zemerlove failed to drag the UK's pre-selection show up by the bootstraps and he couldn't even rescue the amateurish Giedroyc bluster. Ruddy faced geordie boy Michael Rice is the latest lamb to the slaughter for the UK, having been provided with the latest production line weak soulfulless insipid pop. He can only hope for some Brexit sympathy votes to boost his chances, it really is looking that bad.

Of the 41 songs on offer in total, a solid 25 will likely set your teeth itching, and you'll be a brave one indeed to sit through the first semi final. As with last year it feels a certain stagnation is settling over the contest with only brief glimpses of unrestrained madness, primarily in the form of an S&M Icelandic punk rock band. This motley bunch are likely to distract attention from the morbidity a bit, even if the sound they come out with may significantly shorten your pets lifespan. Apart from the rubber suited students there's not a lot of memorable efforts this year but if I had to pick a few then Italy have come up sweet smelling trumps again, the Azeris have a thumper, the navel gazing Slovenes aren't without total merit, the Maltese minnows are pushing for a Cup run, and the Swiss have gone all chunky Hispanic as you do. The less said about the Everage popera-sicle, the better.

The final this year is on Saturday the 18th May, with the semi finals on the preceding Tuesday & Thursday (I belive that BBC4 are planning on putting a health warning on for a good 30 minutes prior to Tuesday's show). Regardless of all that expect a true marathon of an evening on Saturday replete with a mere 4 presenters trying and failing to work professionally together whilst expounding subtle as a brick nationalism gratis.

Many of the 26 finalists are hoping that the views of the army of press & fans across the endless two weeks of rehearsals have been misplaced, but a few acts will be likely circumspect right now. The semi finals are over and most of the family remain slightly stunned over Portugal, but hopefully they will get recover in time for the weekend. So say Hoorah as the ultimate working men's club karaoke singer Serhat triumphed against common sense and the odds. And the Dutch are likely making room in their dusty trophy cabinet for the plexiglass mic. On the other side of the coin the impaled warbling Aussie likely qualified in top position. Still, frankly who cares, as we all survived it, we get the dubious pleasure of seeing Hatari again, and the cute little Slovenians & Belarussian were awarded a deserved Finals spot. Aah. This year will be covered off in all its weakly researched, low-rent opinion by clicking here (or indeed by clicking on the 2019 logo above).

Also in an attempt not to let my paltry labours of the last 15 years go to waste, below are over a decade of mildly derogatory musings that have no place in a progressive society.

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