As I type this, I see my street cred spiralling out of the window, crashing onto the ground and dying BUT Serbia won this year’s Eurovision Song Contest, and dammit, if I am not simulatenously both excited and mortified. And plus, I never really did have much street cred to begin with.
For those of you (unfortunately) uninitiated Eurovision song contest, the mother of all (embarassing yet glorious) song contests ever happens once a year, and every country in Europe (duh) no matter how big or small (hello Lichtenstein! totally forgot about you San Marino!) sends a representative out to a weekend somewhere, whereever it is that the last season’s song winner came from (this year it was Helsinki) into a land of sequins, personal fans attached to microphones and cheesy promo video clips intended to promote the country’s tourism.
It is the music competition equivalent of beauty pageants and man oh man, do we love it.
No matter, what people say, if you are from Europe, YOU KNOW THAT EVERYONE YOU KNOW WIERDLY CARES how high you score during all-important-all-Europe-tv-station-call in of scores.
ABBA shot to international stardom through this (with Waterloo, and Sweden has done well EVERY year since), as did Celine Dion in 1988, and even an Israeli drag queen with “Diva” once.
It is a full-on equal opportunity camp fest and Marija Serifovic (from Serbia, also known as Svetlana’s homeland) won this year with a song called “Molitva” (as in “Prayer”)
so, for all intents, balloon dancing, jazzy camera work and vaguely butch Liza Minelli references/comments look no further than here: