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 The camp appeal of the Eurovision Song Contest has Rick Jacobs salivating.
Can you smell an odour of gay frenzy emanating from across Europe, travelling on Saharan winds across the Indian Ocean down to Melbourne? It’s the scent of Eurovision, which is holding its much-anticipated final in Serbia this Sunday, May 24.
Scorecards are flying out of printers, European flags are being whipped out and hung, and Icelandic party food is being requested by Eurovision party hosts.
But what is it about the Eurovision Song Contest that captures gay hearts; and which in recent years has inspired endless fan sites, hours of gossip, and seen thousands of Euros spent on the latest merchandise?
I’m a late convert to all things Eurovision. As a result of growing up in the USA, before moving to London in the early 1990s I had no knowledge of the phenomenon; not until I attended my ex-boyfriend Neil’s Eurovision party in 1999, after which I was hooked.
That party was unique in that each sashay, each hair flick, each high note (and off-key notes as well) were lapped up with glee by those guests of a homosexual persuasion.
I’d never seen anything like it before. The fact that some countries (especially the ex-Communist nations) took their entries so seriously – with national costumes and trends that were about five years out of date in Western Europe – just added to the general hilarity. Nothing else I can think of can capture such over-the-top, often unintentional, camp the way Eurovision can.
Watched by over 100 million people, who now have endless access online to clips, commentary, views of rehearsals and MP3s, Eurovision has exploded in popularity, and appears more professional than ever before. Yet for all its slickness, it’s as lunatic as ever – a fantastic celebration of camp, kitsch and, just occasionally, perfect pop music.
In this year’s competition you can choose from speed-freak Bosnians; Latvian pirates; the gayest gay song from Gayland, sung by Sweden; incredibly bad English from the Greek entry; Bulgarian reggae-trance; and a former dustman singing for the UK (we really know how to pick ’em ’ere).
My own ideal Top Five this year would consist of the entries for Switzerland, Sweden, Bulgaria, Armenia and Iceland, although I suspect the Eurovision organisers are terrified of Dustin, the turkey puppet that’s representing Ireland, taking out the top prize.
Who will you be barracking for?
For more of Rick’s Eurovision views and other writing, please visit his blog at stornisse.squarespace.com.
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