In its 66 years of broadcasting, the Eurovision Song Contest has usually provided joy, hilarity and songs involving puppets of Irish turkeys. Set up with the noble intention of showing that music could unite Europe, it has instead been a glorious failure, with knock-off Slipknots, tone-deaf, bread-baking grannies and Israeli rappers squawking like chickens all emphasising, if anything, the impenetrability of a foreign nation’s favourite pop music – even when they’re singing in English.
Just in case you were wondering, after watching the performances, whether the continent’s borders were tumbling, outrageously partisan national voting usually confirms that the spirit of intercontinental togetherness is a mirage. Greece and Cyprus give one another douze points, the Scandinavian countries vote for each other, and poor old Eurosceptic Britain has spent most of the last decade in the bottom three places.
