The Eurovision of People's Hearts...

I can only apologise to Adam
Buxton for the comparison. My
GIF site was not very forthcoming
for 'double booked' or 'diary clash'.

Last Christmas I was given tickets to see Adam Buxton at the Liverpool Playhouse. 'Get in!' I thought, as I opened my laptop to add the date to my diary. I'm a fan of his podcast, and this was right up my street. But then - DUH DUH DUHHHH - there was a clash. The evening with Adam Buxton had been booked for the same night as Eurovision. Disaster.

Actually, not a disaster. Not for a second. It was understood immediately that the tickets would be returned, whether a refund was possible or not. No question. People who know me, know my priorities, and so despite being a thoughtful gift that I'd have loved any other night of the year, it was just not happening. And that was that. Except obviously not. Enter pesky Covid, causing ructions. The Adam Buxton evening has now been rescheduled for October - luckily my lax attitude to returning unwanted items means I still have valid tickets - and Eurovision has been cancelled. Yeah. Bit gutted. What's a silly night of fun for some, is the actual love of my life. Alongside cheese, eighties music, and blustery beach walks. (I am the full package.)

Here I am, modelling last
year's stats and thoughts,
before chatting to the nation
via the radio. 18.5.19

Under normal circumstances, next Saturday would be the night in question. I'd be drinking my champagne, eating my seafood platter, and immersing myself in the joy that is Eurovision Twitter. I'd have spent the past few weeks listening to all forty-one entries, I'd be predicting which countries would be exiting at the semis, and I'd be prepping my trivia for the phone interview on Riverside Radio, where I am - in a ceremonial capacity only - the resident Eurovision enthusiast of the Martin Adams Saturday show. That was what next weekend was going to look like.

So, amongst the cancelled birthdays, holidays, and pub seshes, we now have a cancelled Eurovision. It's fine. It's what happens now. No biggie. (SOB) But rest assured, I'll be marking next Saturday, regardless. How? Well, things aren't looking too bad.


If you're a Eurovision tourist, and pop by once a year for the final, then the BBC is here for you. They have a full lineup of special programmes, the main event being a Europe-wide broadcast of 2020's songs showcased without the competition. Eurovision: Europe Shine A Light starts at 8pm. Come the evening, I'll probably be swayed by that. Especially if Eurovision Twitter is on board. 

Eurovision Twitter need a lot more content than a replacement line up for one evening. The ESC season was in full swing when Coronavirus shut it down. From the start of the year, new acts were gradually announced as countries held their national finals. Lots of people had flights booked and weekend deals secured, to attend gigs and parties all over the place. (For example, the London Eurovision Party was supposed to be on March 29th. Spain's PrePartyEs was planned for 10th and 11th of April.) The well-known phrase, 'Eurovision is for Spring not just for Christmas one day in May,' has never been so apt. 

I LOVED Denmark's 2018 entry.
Rasmussen. Anthemic and soaring,
like all my favourites are.

I am definitely more than a Eurovision tourist. It's way bigger than once a year for me. The buildup and gossip that the online community provides is what makes the lull after New Year less boring. Keeping an eye on possible winners as more and more are announced is a great diversion until I get to March when I listen to them all properly. But I'm a bit of an outsider too. There's a general acknowledgement online that Eurovision only got good in the last decade. When it shook off the naffness that came with the eighties. I get that completely. But then I love eighties Eurovision too. I love a key change, a riff on a national costume, and I miss the days when countries had to sing in their own language and it all sounded so varied. But hey, times change. Increased production values and genuinely good songs can't be a bad thing. But it means I'm slightly at odds with younger fans. 

None of that matters though. People are lovely. It's OK to be different. We all have our favourites. And since we've been confined to barracks, with gigs being cancelled all over the show, the ESC community has got itself organised. Recent Saturdays have seen a shared watch of a streamed contest from the past. Eurovision Again! Excitingly, the year is announced just before the 8pm start. It's all so heartwarming and lovely. I've only managed to dip into these, as Saturday night is the one time of the week I get to converse with another human for more than five minutes, but I'm so happy that this has been possible. Twitter is filled with the joy of it too. And even when I've been unable to join in the official #EurovisionAgain stream, I've found time to rewatch some of my favourite years, and felt all the better for it. Eurovision - it makes everything feel sparkly and upbeat.

So onwards to next Saturday. As gutting as it is that it'll different, there's still a bunch of contest-related content in which to explore. I'll still feel a giddy thrill when I hear Charpentier's Te Deum. I'll still feel a nostalgic gut punch at any snippet of a key change or mention of pre-millennium Eurovision. And, I'm just saying it now, Iceland's 2020 entry is brilliant. I'd have bet money on it had I been given the chance. Instead, I'll leave it here so you can enjoy for yourselves. We have to find the upsides. The final one being, I can have my lovely evening of community this Saturday, and still see Adam Buxton in October. Hurrah.

Have a lovely week, folks.

That feeling when you write a blog, do a bit of an Ecosia search for some stats, and then find the same article has been written in the Guardian a week before. I'm so zeitgeisty, it hurts.