Yes, the splinter had to get that dig in, tying the bombastic festival to excess, not only musical, to Edward Elgar’s famous march, composed to mark the coronation of his namesake, King Edward VII in 1902. Ostensibly to celebrate, nay, pay tribute to England’s power and glory. Which, almost one and a quarter centuries hence, is a pale shadow of its once dominant grandeur.
Here in Anno Domini 2026, I was stuck behind a wee screen solely to satisfy curiosity. One could have been forgiven for wondering why Europeans tune into this spectacle. And others, as these lines prove. (Among the participants are antipodeans, for heaven’s sake. Australia has been sending an entry to the fan-vote driven, balanced by so-called discerning expert judges, extravaganza for over a decade. Last checked, the dust-covered globe showed that the land of the didgeridoo is nowhere near the continent that once claimed to be at the forefront of advancing culture.)
Does kolkapatriotism, an Estonian word that connotes exaggerated belonging to place, especially locality… play a role in the fan’s choices? Or are modern audiences just tone deaf?
A curious comparison entered the mottled mind. The old CNE fairgrounds were a great place once, not so much for the rides and dubious culinary inventions, but for the music, the concerts staged. Accessibly priced, visited by the greats, marking the end of a summer when it was back to dusty books and lecture halls. As was Ontario Place. We are going back almost half a century now. Then Canada’s Wonderland opened, destroying thousands of acres of fertile farmland in the process. One visit there, because of the aforementioned quizzical interest, killed the proverbial curious cat. Too much. Too expensive. Too loud. Too many people. Kinda like Eurovision, one might opine.
Does kolkapatriotism, an Estonian word that connotes exaggerated belonging to place, especially locality (the reason behind, say, the centuries-old enmity between those claiming allegiance to Yorkshire, others to Lancashire, to keep to the British examples) play a role in the fan’s choices? Or are modern audiences just tone deaf? I still don’t understand how Estonia’s choice at Eesti Laul, Vanilla Ninja’s “Too Epic To Be True,” cut the mustard. The prescience of the bemused one was proven right, as the tune did not survive initial performance, failing to make the semi-finals.
As an aside: last week marked the 25th anniversary of Estonia’s sole victory at Eurovision with “Everybody,” performed by Tanel Padar, Dave Benton, and 2XL. A cheerful, emotionally-driven number that surprisingly has stood up against the ravages of time. It has soul. Then again, the composer, Ivar Must, was interviewed on May 12th on Vikerraadio, claiming that Benton muscled his way into being part of the performance and undermined all involved in the project.
It’s human nature to weigh in on the pundits, so as to separate the wheat from the chaff. Some of those prognosticators had it right. The Finnish entry, violinist Linda Lampenius, pairing up with Pete Parkonen on “Liekinheitin” (“Flamethrower”) rightly made it into the top ten, at sixth. With her bow on fire, Lampenius fiddled much better than Nero ever might’ve… And this was one number where the pyrotechnics were justified, no pun intended, for as the lyrics clearly indicate, love is an incendiary emotion.
Some ears were taken by Delta Goodrem’s ballad “Eclipse”, the Australian entry that was ranked fourth. If not in bizzaro costume (check out the British entry by LOOK MUM NO COMPUTER, “Eins, Zwei, Drei”, which, while typical Brit tongue-in-cheek, was more about performance than music), most numbers were sung by bodacious Boadiceas, fierce and stunning on the stage, clad in alluring garb, but musically delivering not so much.
Not knocking the winner, Bulgaria’s DARA with “Bangaranga.” A bit of a nonsense number, but the de rigueur eurotümps beat was there, and the choreography, which usually adds to not detracts from lyrics of dubious worth, was fun. But world class? Hardly.
Hate to get political, but Israel placed second. Again, what are they doing at a presumably European music lollapalooza (a misused noun meaning impressive or attractive person or thing)? Five nations boycotted this year’s Eurovision, among them the Ireland, with seven victories over the decades, and the Netherlands, a five-time champeen. All due to the Gaza war, and alleged Israeli human rights violations, war crimes.
Boycotts do not work. Remember the lengthy trade embargo on South African goods, due to the practice of apartheid? Driven by students, lasting for decades, one irony then and now, was that those same idealists knew that the cheapest brandy, Paarl from South Africa, produced the same buzz that Hennessy, the far pricier cognac of choice of today’s rappers gave. Penurious pedants want bang for the buck, beyond ideals. Remember drinking cheap Chilean Pinots during the reign of Pinochet? The slimster rests his case.
A summary of Eurovision? You get your kicks from afar, but the product, alas, is no longer worth the hype. “Pomp and Circumstance” is now mostly played at graduations. Methinks it is time for Eurovision to grow up and enter the real world.
Alas, those that follow it, accepting personal hypocrisy in these lines, by also being a bit of a moth to a flame, are not likely to want more than a throbbing beat, special effects, and lyrical fluff. As another famous Roman said, give them bread and circuses, a metaphor for superficial appeasement. Fitting, no?
Otepää Slim
