If there was one performance that got everybody on their virtual feet and cheering along - after Potato Acapulco, that is - it's old Pavel here with his pure gift to live auditions. And this isn't the whole thing!
He'd already been on stage for about three minutes previously, dropping papers, arguing with the stage hand and wilfully ignoring how microphones actually work. For his second visit we walked on in a jockey's cap, rattled on some more, complained that they'd played the wrong song, demanded that they started his own song again, then launched into a beautifully pinky plonk ramble that said the words Belarus and Israel a lot yet made no apparent sense in any language.
At times we were wondering if Pavel here was a dead pan comedian of incredible talents. But on reflection we don't thing he is - we suspect that this is straight up and he's a real life grumbly old fella with a penchant for chatting over electronic party pop. God bless Belarus!
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