There is no such thing as too much Eurovision Song Contest. For some people. Like the Swedes. They have umpteen heats leading up to the Swedish selection of whoever they will send. We watched, erm, maybe the fourth? I don’t know. I didn’t pay too much attention. It was on for the entertainment of Daughter, the ESC fan in the family, and we had our dinner while watching.
It was fun enough, and with some really weird extra stuff from behind the scenes, like the presenters racing down corridors on a disability scooter, and the contestants being grilled by two ‘secret service’ style prize idiots before their performance. Amusing. Or not.
Of eight contestants, two went on to the ‘real’ contest in Stockholm and two went on to a second chance event. The rest went nowhere. Unfortunately Sebastian was one of those, and I felt he was the only one with any prospects at all. Not as cute as the winner Eric Saade, who wore a very red leather jacket. And he was cute. The other winners were The Playtones, who were quite lovely in their 1950s blue suits and oily hairdos. The song wasn’t bad either.
It’s a great idea, though, for any country other than Britain, who still can’t take this kind of thing seriously. Not only do you get the real deal in Düsseldorf, but you get the national contest ‘at home’ and before that you have all the local heats, which means months and months of fun.
And you can buy the CDs.