Saturday night on the BBC Red Button, and the annual tradition that the UK tolerates each year kicked off - the announcement of our entry for Eurovision. A once noble piece of showbiz pageantry in the shape of the beloved Song For Europe contest (sort of like The Voice with marginally higher stakes, younger readers) has been beaten down by indifference over the years into what we witness now, a behind-closed-doors BBC panel and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it announcement from a despondent Scott Mills on the red button.
Naturally, my timeline became instantly clogged up with a litany of sarcasm and anguish (aggregated, the feeling amounted to, 'Why does the BBC hate the gays so much?'). And yet there was a difference; for here was not a dried-up relic wheeled out to take one for the team, or something one of Pete Waterman's assistant farted out as a tax loss, but something altogether stranger.
Electro Velvet, a cut-and-shut two-piece comprising a Voice rejectee and a Mick Jagger impersonator (both CVs have been trotted out with bile at every opportunity by various bloggers this week), bringing to the mainstream the niche genre of electro-swing, normally the preserve of weekends in Hoxton or the Glastonbury Shangri-La. Factor in that 'Still in Love with You' was written by the man who wrote the Jim'll Fix It theme tune, and we were left with a perfect storm of an internet feeding frenzy of hate. I am here to posit the suggestion that the internet has got it wrong.
There's a science of sorts to this. Eurovision winners fall broadly into two categories. There's the gigantic power-ballad ones with the vocal heft and the emotional wallop. We in the UK are very good at those, but while I wasn't personally privy to the conversations, it seems likely that Adele politely declines each year. And so when we try that we end up with the kind of morbid race to the bottom that sees Queen Bonnie Tyler looking embarrassed while singing about whales or something.
In fairness, last year's effort, 'Children Of The Universe' from Molly actually wasn't half bad, but evidently, Florence Lite credibility doesn't play so well at Eurovision either. Actually, Florence for Eurovision would be amazing, but with even our medium guns staying well away, the penny has now dropped at the BBC that our only remaining tactic is to play the contest at its own game.
Because the other category of Eurovision winner is the one we actually remember; the charming, daft, quasi-novelty tunes that say at least a little something of the idiosyncrasies of the country in question. The Dana Internationals, the Lordis, the Conchita Wursts. Now I'm not suggesting that Electro Velvet would be sturdy in battle with an axe, or challenge perceived western notions of gender identity. But where our usual tendency is to mistake Eurovision's oddball charm for simple camp in a way that demeans both (hello Jemini), this is the closest we've come in decades to getting that right.
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Of course we're not going to win. Nobody likes us, and tactical voting would still put paid to that even if they did (a little of Eurovision died for me when Wogan flounced off amid the Eastern Bloc block vote row). And of course, the decision should be put back in the hands of the public. And yes, I would dearly love to see us field something classy, like in the days of Frances Ruffelle's 'Lonely Symphony', or even Gina G's 'Just A Little Bit'. But it's not going to happen, not yet.
What we have is an inescapably catchy, lovably oddball piece of Brit eccentricity that it's impossible to ignore, if only even out of pure hate. And who doesn't love a bit of a Charleston? I'm not suggesting 'Still in Love with You' is a particularly great song. But what I am going to say out loud is that Electro Velvet represent our best chance of winning Eurovision since the last time we won.
