On Friday night, I’m hosting Time Out’s Alternative Eurovision At London Wonderground on the Southbank. London’s top cabaret stars will take to the stage and perform an original song for their chosen country and the winner shall be bathed in glory and more applause than the others for being the audience’s favourite.
I won’t be performing an original song because any song I’ve ever tried to write just ends up sounding exactly like what I’ve just heard on the radio five minutes before as I have no musical skill. Although I did win a cup for playing the recorder once, so maybe there is hope. Not for this though. I’ll just do the presenting.
Before this, on Wednesday I’m going to Frankfurt in Germany.
That’s Germany up there. It’s in Europe.
I’m djing after Bjorn Again which – if you aren’t aware or hadn’t gathered by the name – is an Abba tribute show. Here they are, well their backs.
Abba won Eurovision in 1974 with Waterloo.
(Alternative) Eurovision hosting. Going to Germany a.k.a. the boss of Europe. Playing after an Abba tribute band… is someone trying to tell me something? Maybe that next year I should enter Eurovision? Is that what it this imaginary person is saying? That I should represent the UK next year and go on to win, triumphantly and making everyone like us again after the bother with that illegal war? Or is it just a coincidence?
I hope not, as the imaginary person telling me I should enter Eurovision is far more exciting than a coincidence. Although imaginary people telling you what to do is how mad people end up thinking they are masters of the universe.
But I don’t want to be a master of the universe. I’ll happily settle for Euro representation. That doesn’t seem unreasonable now does it?