It's become impossible to predict a Eurovision winner, but as the final airs tonight without Ireland in the contest, perhaps we should think about losing the half-baked irony and smug cynicism
YOU CANNOT BE half-ironic, which is what we were trying to do with Dustin, the guiding assumption being that the Eurovision is nowadays, as Terry Wogan observed recently, a carnival of post-modernism and irony.
But this is just one aspect of the truth. It is difficult to talk seriously about the Eurovision Song Contest, not because it has no serious aspects, but because these must remain implicit. Irony is a high-maintenance demeanour and even Dustin's contribution took some time to write, arrange and choreograph. Whatever the rhetoric of the puppet in public, this demanded due seriousness. Hence, the greatest irony of all.
Eurovision is post-modern in the sense of being the creation of the second division of European pop, which, having digested all the premiership has to offer, seeks to forge something unique and emblematic for a different part of the pop imagination. It is not a lowest common denominator of taste, musical or otherwise, but it is not the mainstream either, which is why most who consider themselves serious pop musicians are cynical and nervous about it.
Latterly it is more a showcase for the talents and energies of countries too new to things to be blase and too hopeful for irony. Parading the glitz of showbiz and the opportunity of punk, Eurovision is above all about desire, a kind of Sam Maguire for all Europe.
Perhaps it is time to change the name of the competition to The Euromigrationvision Contest, because, clearly, those countries with large numbers of their emigrants in other European countries stand a better chance. The rules forbid countries voting for themselves, but there is nothing to stop the Lithuanian contingent in Ireland hijacking the Irish vote and giving douze points to their homeland, as happened last year. Perhaps we have to wait for an upswing in the economic fortunes of former Easter bloc countries to have any chance of getting back among the winners.
The modern competition is impossible to read. The success of Lordi in 2006 suggested that Eurovision had been radically changed by text voting. The interpretation that it was more about irony than music or showbiz values was plausible enough. Interestingly, a number of countries entered old-fashioned heavy rock acts last year, and all sank to the bottom of the semi-final table. Ireland took a different tack, deciding last year that, if all bets were off, a traditional band doing a traditional-style song might have as good a chance as anything. It didn't work, but those who say this could have been predicted are either trying to cash in their cynicism or operating with the benefit of hindsight.
Serbia's win last year with a straightforward (and excellent) pop ballad suggested business-as-usual, but the voting patterns could not be ignored.
I had and have a lot of sympathy with those lumbered with responsibility for Ireland's entry this year. Reviewing recent outcomes, it was impossible to isolate a single coherent principle that might prove useful in framing a new tactic, so it was understandable that they plumped for the irony option, hedging bets and playing to one interpretation of the voting demographic. I don't think this tactic was as entirely misconceived as the critics now claim they knew it to be all along, though I agree the song could have been better.
Purists are annoyed and frustrated by what they perceive as a failure to seek out the best acts and songs. But having since had the opportunity to see things from the inside, I have to say that I don't think there is much more the national broadcaster can do. At present, RTÉ advertises for entrants and diligently scrutinises every one. In the end the public chooses. It is open to anyone to enter and persuade the voters that they can take the Eurovision crown for Ireland again. But if the creme de la creme of Irish pop music talent do not want to enter, there is little RTÉ can do about it. Public and pop industry perception of Eurovision is at such a low ebb that high-profile talents have everything to lose and nothing to gain by entering.
All this irony and cynicism, then, tends to be self-fulfilling. We can't win because we don't put our best foot forward, and our best kickers are all too cynical to be bothered entering. Tonight's result will throw up a new set of imponderables for the Irish organisers, going, as it were, forward.
Perhaps the days when Ireland felt an entitlement to entertain expectations about Eurovision are behind. We are no longer an emigrant nation, the plucky island underdogs, but a significant economic power among the elites of the EU. Our new-found knowing cynicism is symptomatic of this transformation. That we haven't won Eurovision since Bertie Ahern became taoiseach may be telling us that we are now too successful, modern and smug to win. Having lost our innocence, perhaps it is time we accepted that there are new Cinderellas who, for a time, will seek to claim their place in the sun. And maybe, for this reason, and the fact that we are otherwise so superior about it, we might consider not losing our detachment and irony every time we get hammered. Maybe we should begin to take our beatings in a spirit of - dare I mention it? - fun.
The Eurovision Song Contestfinal is on RTÉ1 and BBC1 tonight at 8pm.