Swiss TV exec in a shadowy Lugano office: "You know what we need in this damn final? Not a dozen willowy teen girls hooting out witless techno, or some bedroom Scouser who can't actually sing...
Slightly timid researcher: "But what then, my leige?"
Swiss TV exec in a shadowy Lugano office: "What we need is a chunky Greek bloke on a beach whining out a love song to Robin Williams! And the more film references he clumsily crowbars in, the better! Can you get me that, young whelk!"
Slightly less timid researcher: "I think I might have just the thing, sir..."
Erm, considering the speed that Swiss telly are pulling down any submitted video with even a hint of old age or controversy, we're somewhat startled that nobody's pointed out this cheeky little blighter to them yet...
Shall we tell 'em? Nah, it'll be funnier if we don't...
People rejoice! For it came to pass that we have our first slightly batty old girl of the season - and more terrifyingly it's probably one of the better songs in the Swiss process so far.
The video's clearly had a few pence spent on it too. Either Ms Christina is the wife of some rich industrialist in the midst of an expensive vanity project or she's actually a bit of a big deal in some remote canton - either way, this doesn't look cheap!
When deciding whether to enter a song for this or that country's Eurovision qualifiers there are always a few questions that you should ask yourself. "Is it appropriate for the nation I am considering representing?" should usually be the first one, followed by "Is it any good?" And "Will anybody outside my circle of friemds actually get it?"
So with this in mind I'm still trying to ascertain the thought process behind this somewhat misplaced curiosity. "I know," the artist thought "as a moderately well-known underground drag comedian from Russia, I'll submit a song that not only includes a cheeky Madonna sample, but all kinds of unauthorised samples from a rather stern looking lady who's probably quite important somewhere. On top of that I'll almost certainly be slagging her off in some kind of cruel way, and then credit myself as a moderately well known female pop singer, and to make it even better, I'll leave on the opening screen that betrays the fact that I fruitlessly tried to enter it in for the Armenian selection last year. The swiss are going to bloody love it!"
How long until the Swiss take it down from their site, do you reckon?
ESC fans rejoice! The traditional explosion of all that is truly unhinged and mediocre has kicked off today - oh yes, the Swiss open submissions process is open and ready for business, and it's delivering its usual delights.
The familiar barrage of home produced warblers and international hopefuls have already deluged Swiss telly with their shoddily made produce, but we'll come to that lot in good time. What today is really for is the annual day in the sun for traditional season openers Männerchor Steili Kressä, and they haven't let us down.
As ever, they've provided a ditty about next year's host nation, and of course what could be more Swedish than meatballs. Delight as our favourite drinking men's choir present their tasty savoury delight to a succession of well known Swedish pop acts, then marvel as the meatball itself gets a starring role. It's complete and utter glorious cobblers, of course, but we wouldn't want it any other way.
Ladies and gentlemen, after a long, arid summer – musically speaking, of course – it's my pleasure to announce the official opening of the 2016 Eurovision Song Contest On Season. And what better way to kick off proceedings than with Moldova's perennial prince of darkness, the great Sasha Bognibov.
Many regular commentators of the early stages of Eurovisionism feared that he may never have been able to top last year's masterpiece, Wounded Swan. And indeed, while Alone doesn't rise to quite that level of gloomy majesty, it feels like he's attempting to move things off down a slightly different track this time around.
Beginning with a slightly chilling children's xylophone, Sasha's familiar haunted vocals soon poke through the dark atmosphere, as he wonders, in song, whether he'll ever find his true soul mate. And then, quite suddenly, the tempo pumps up to true Europop levels, and we're led in to classic ESC territory.
It's no world beater, this must be said, but his songwriting is maturing year-on-year, and one of these days he's going to find himself on stage in that tiny Chisinau studio, competing for the crown that he do dearly craves. Could this, finally, be his year?
I feel a cult coming on. The much beloved Magnus Carlsson may have tootled along to moderate success during this weekend's Melodifestivalen final, but his performance will forever be remembered for one thing that was entirely beyond his control - the pure star quality of the bloke doing the sign language interpretation.
Sit back and enjoy the pure joy on the face of this chap as he gets deeper and deeper into character, and his breathless panting as he gets more and more out of breath towards the end. One suspects that this isn't the last time we'll be seeing this particular gentlemen this year - and perhaps for many years to come.
Right, so I've finally gotten around to enjoying this gloomy Norwegian gem. Yes, there were songs, many songs, that I would have preferred winning last night. And yes, it's another bloody slow one. And indeed, I reckon it's going to nick just enough points of my only very vaguely similar competition favourite Estonia to cost it the win.
But now that it's here, I'm certainly not going to knock it.
Dark, mysteriously intriguing subject matter, layered on with enough Scandi noir atmosphere to both give you the creeps and make you fall in love with it, this song is perhaps too darned spooky to be troubling the top left quarter of the scoreboard too much, but it'll still pick up some significant voter love along the journey.
But who are the juries going to side with now there's so much jury bait on the table? This could get interesting...
An uptempo song? A real uptempo song? Alone in the fog of balladeering? Well kinda. While it's not exactly the most BPM-heavy song we've ever experienced, by this year's standards it's practically speedpunk!
It's also gloriously likeable and dumb - in a good way. The lyric might make even a Moldovan songwriter cringe, but it's still lots of fun - indeed, he tells us that he's the King of Fun on more than one occasion. And this year especially I think he kind of is!
OK, so it's clumsy and sounds like three different songs roughly stapled together, but it's exactly the kind of song this contest has needed to wrench it from the gloom and slowness. One suspects we'll be hearing this a few times a night at Euroclub, mind...
So, after the long slow reveal of artists from around the globe, and the not-so subtle hints that their songs was going to be a commemoration of centenary of the locally contentious Armenian genocide, we finally have the song. But what's it like, I hear you wonder?
Well… despite sounding a bit like a charity record with a whole load of minor chord business in the long build up to the chorus, when it kicks into the refrain it swiftly diverts from the big spectacular whopper you were expecting, and goes a bit, well, jazzy. Then next time around, a bit plod metally.
And bot is there a lot of singing on show. By the time opera lady gets to her bit it sounds more like we're in the middle of a since off on The Voice than a cohesive song. Then it just ends, with very little flourish, like they just got bored of it.
Having said all that though, I can't wait to see what they do with it live! It could be knuckle-gnawingly immense!
Here's a first sneaky peek at the Russian song from a local news report. It's all about love and peace and the children. Apparently love is the only meaning in life.
That's just how the world see Russia at the moment, I'm sure. Great work!
An all-too-brief thirty second snippet of the Belgian song snuck out on local radio this morning, and the rest of the day has given us a slow bleed of bits and bobs until we finally got to hear the whole thing at about half six tonight. But was it worth the release in instalments?
Well we have to say that we rather like it. It's dark, brooding... another slow song it's true - but this ain't no ballad. Instead, boy-faced Loïc here offers us a dirty, sleazy grind that goes no place much, but still offers up an interesting journey along the way.
Of course, it's almost impossible to guess how well this will do on the big night. Will it get lost among the fog of slowness, or will its genuine bluesy bluster burst through, delighting both jury and home voter alike? Who can say. But we do know that we'll especially look forward to seeing what they do with this one in the live forum..
Aside from the winners and that glorious frocky horror from Romania last night, there's one other song that's caught the public's attention from last evening's Romanian, and it's quite probably for entirely the wrong reasons. Yes, here is a song more than worthy of a place in the top ranks of our good friends at SCARYvision.
Poor Rodicia started off OK, but the sound in the massive Craiova hall was approximate at best, and once she lost her pitch she was desperately battling to get it back, and only very occasionally meeting with success. It didn't help that it was a complicated song, with highs and lows all over the shop, so the best she could do would have been to have played the percentages and averaged all the big notes out. Fair play to her though, she soldiered on as rehearsed, but boy did it make uncomfortable listening at times.
It didn't help that the big pay off at the end hinged on the lighting MacGuffin attached to her hand. We suspect that it was supposed to be a secret, but her expressive hand movements kept giving the game away throughout. Then when it came to the money shot at the end, it briefly sputtered into life before giving up the ghost - only to startle and partially blind her during her exit interview.
This was one of those occasions where you really feel for a performer - but still can't help having a crafty giggle at her expense too. Poor lass.
