Around once or twice a year, someone on the toilet underground music circuit will hear of my unlikely addiction to Eurovision and proudly announce: "Oh my mate was in that a couple of years ago!" A small amount of investigation usually reveals that the nearest they actually got was a small feature in a local paper letting the good residents Backarse, Northamptonshire know that they were sending the BBC a tape, and that they were confident of success. And that was the last that anyone ever heard of them.
Well it appears that the UK silly season has started early, as a bunch of pub metal chancers from Surrey are telling anyone who'll listen that it is they and they alone who can save Eurovision for these fair isles. Indeed, UKR are so convinced of their impending success that they've even started contacting ESC fansites about it.
So who are these people? Well it appears that, for the most part, they're a brushed up version of a Home Counties pub and party band called Hurricane Jane - only they've roped in the (very slightly) big name guitarist Laurence Archer, ex-of NWOBHM latecomers Stampede, the worst line up of UFO, and Grand Slam - the band Phil Lynott formed after Thin Lizzy split up to pay off his heroin dealer. High glory indeed.
But look, I may be wrong. Perhaps this is what the UK needs. People the continent over love pub metal, don't they? If this gets selected for the UK I will gladly applaud it, and eat my underpants at the gates of the Tivoli on the night of the contest.
Fast forward about three years. "Oh you like Eurovision do you? My mate's band was in that. UKR they were called..."
********STOP PRESS********
It's with grave disappointment that I have to announce that this very afternoon, UKR were sent an email of polite rejection from the BBC. Apparently our Auntie decided that: "although the song potentially means a lot to a British audience, the votes in Eurovision are only cast by European viewers and jurors, and we felt that some of the references might be lost on that audience.".
Not at all snooty then - and who ever listens to the words anyway?!
The funny thing is I'll kind of miss them, plucky chancers that they are. And at least my underpants are safe...