Hey, Barbecutie

Eurovision, traditionally the bastion of the loudest, sparkliest operatic power ballad with leather clad backing dancers, trite lyrics of peace and love in pidgeon English and a section where the vocalist engages in some rhythmic drumming. So far, so But occasionally, something magnificent will break through.

Well, twice. Twice, something magnificent has broken through. And they’ve both been French.

Firstly, France Gall’s 1965 winner, Poupee de Cire, Poupee de Son, a thumping ye-ye classic, written by Serge Gainsbourg and performed with spectacular charm by 60s icon Gall.

And merely 40-something years later, France, having long since given up hope of winning the popular vote, turned to sexual raconteur Sebastien Tellier, friend of Air and Daft Punk, for his particular brand of louche lounge lizardy and sultry quirk. He appears onstage, driving a moon buggy. Tellier missed the win, but doubtless shrugged it off and lit another cigarette before going back to write a song about his bisexualité*.

Will tonight’s entrants live up to these ideals? I will take a wild guess and say no.

* He actually claimed the same when I saw him live.