Eurovision: a show with a ‘wow’ factor but musically it is as naff as ever

I genuinely don’t get the buzz for this annual cheese fest. It’s the musical equivalent of a McDonald’s Happy Meal - consumed and forgotten within minutes.

I get the scale of the spectacle and the joy it seems to bring everyone there, but sitting at home with a bowl of Cheesy Wotsits really ain’t the same. I suspect it’s one of those “you have to be there” events. For the rest of us it’s a bit like standing with our noses pressed against the window watching everyone else having a party.

A bit like Nigel Farage, Eurovision is hard to ignore, but actually worth the effort.

The days when the winning song was immediately propelled to number one via an appearance of Top Of The Pops and endless hype on Radio1 belong in the days when the likes of Cliff Richard, Lyndsey DePaul and Brotherhood Of Man stepped up and gave it the best of British.

As a kid growing up, we watched every year. Back then, Eurovision was tediously formal and stiff-laced; the audience looked as if it had dressed for dinner at Buckingham Palace – or a Rotary Club annual dinner, whichever you rate the dullest - and the hosts spoke in the most clipped of BBC tones. An era of polite applause and scoreboards made out of balsa wood and sticky-back plastic.

The scoring was also done in almost reverential tones – absolutely none of the showboating which is the hallmark of every hyped-to-the-hilt eager local host handed a mic to tell us which country got their 12 points.

That the show has ballooned in terms of scale and production values ain’t in doubt. It’s bigger than most rock band tours these days and, visually, knows how to deliver a real ‘wow’ factor, but, musically, it still remains utterly, hopelessly naff.

How many songs or performers can you name from the last decade? Actually, who can name last year’s winner, let along sing it? And where did Britain finish? Top ten or so far out of sight they might as well have been in the car park behind the stage?

The fact the contest has semi-finals never ceases to blow my mind. Why? What happens to all of these acts who fail to even make it beyond Eurovision’s very own Vauxhall Conference League?

Of course, the UK will never know the indignity of going head to head with San Marino and Azerbaijan to qualify for the big show as, being one of the ‘big five’ we automatically get into the Champions League every year. Given our pitiful attempts at nailing a semi-decent Eurovision tune - and let’s be honest, it ain’t rocket science -, that’s probably just as well. If the juries had their way we’d be reduced to touting our song in a karaoke bar round the corner from the main stadium. And we’d still not win the £100 cash prize there either.

Having said all that I’ll tune in if only for the entries that are plain bonkers, the voting that defies logic or close inspection, and the hope that protestors will disrupt the proceedings by rushing the stage.

Who knows, maybe one song will tear up the Eurovision manual, and actually sound good. It worked out pretty well for Abba after all.