Those who know me will probably guess I’m not a big Eurovision fan. I can’t remember the last time I watched it – but this is our 2024 entry by Olly Alexander.
I preferred the Eurovision Song Contest when nobody watched it because it was shit to nowadays when everybody watches it and pretends it’s not shit, even though it’s just as shit as it ever was.
It was back in 1996 at another theatre event (the press night of A Streetcar Named Desire, with Jessica Lange) that I was introduced to a woman somewhat older than me called Clodagh Rodgers.
She modestly announced that I would be “far too young” to know who she was but I was swift to disabuse her (possibly false) modesty.
“Au contraire,” I replied smoothly. “I know exactly who you are. I remember seeing you sing in the Eurovision Song Contest.”
“Well thank you,” she smiled graciously. “But I bet you can’t remember the song.”
“Aha,” I replied triumphantly. “That’s where you’re wrong. It was Boom Bang-A-Bang.”
It may have been my imagination but I think Clodagh’s smile may have faltered just a bit as she left a pregnant pause before replying quietly:
“That was Lulu.”