We might soon not be able to sleep at night, because, oh, the horror, there’s a chance that the Union of Maltese Composers and Authors might boycott the Malta Eurovision festival.
Alas, that persecution complex of our nation, about something as unserious as Eurovision, has resurfaced. The puzzling thing is that the union may resort to a strike because it opposes the recent decision to allow foreign songwriters to take part in the contest.
Now, how wise is that? If Maltese composers boycott the contest, their void would be ever so easily filled by the bad, bad foreigners.
The new revised rules – and one has to pity the poor chap who had to come up with them, as he was probably kept under lock and key living on stale bread and water – allow foreign composers and authors to submit the grand total of two (!) songs.
Too much, too much, hissed the union. “We won’t accept foreigners having two songs, not even one if we can help it,” spluttered Horace Anastasi, the union representative. The point was further delivered by banging his fist on the wooden table. Ouch, scary.
“This has nothing to do with being scared of competition, but about having a fair competition,” Mr Anastasi added.
Is it now? Statistics show that 52 per cent of all 123 entries for 2010’s festival were submitted by the same five composers – one composer alone submitted 32 songs. Not exactly fair weather.
Maybe it’s about the money, then? Last year the processing fee to submit a song was €100. Add to that the average cost of €700 to €1,000 which artists have to cough up to put a package together. The prize money for the winning song last year was €5,000. So if we do our maths properly, the guy who submitted 32 songs forked out €32,000. Even if he won, he’d still be €27,000 under.
If it’s neither about the dosh, nor about fair play, what is it about then? “It’s the only remaining showcase of national Maltese talent,” clamoured the composers and authors. Ah! Talent.
As we all know, the Eurovision is a show for costumes, for jolly tunes, for Women Who Want To Be Shakira, and Men Who, erm, Want To Be Shakira. Mostly though, it’s a showcase for the most ridiculous lyrics in the history of the world.
Here are, for example, the lyrics of last year’s Serbian entry:
“You kiss me so sweetly/You have no shame/Belgrade, Belgrade /I’m so naughty/Not once, not twice, but three times/Belgrade, Belgrade, we kiss three times here/Balkans, Balkans, Balkans, this is the Balkans.”
In case you’re still sceptical, here’s a line from Israel’s entry:
“The end is at my window, tears of blood burning my throat...”
Or from Malta’s: “Like a seagull on the waves/And the sun will shine/Upon your face/Just believe/Follow your heart and make it happen/ Grow much brighter and we’ll say”.
The only clever thing about this was that slotting of the little word “seagull”. It allowed for the perfect masterstroke in the form of that kitschy birdie-thingummy doing funny things from behind the singer.
To be sure, the Eurovision may be lots of things, but talent it is not. It’s merely the annual festival of camp.
Dear authors and composers, are you sure this is where you want to showcase your talent? You’re parting with your cool in exchange for a remote possibility of a couple of minutes of international coverage?
It costs the nation half a million euro to take part in this kitschiest contest ever. That’s about one euro each. I’m fine with that, if only because we all like having someone to root for on Eurovision night, and of course, any excuse for a party is a good one.
But the only people who really take it seriously today are those parents whose children already have their own CD album at the age of five. So my advice to Maltese composers is: just chill out and treat it as it is – a fantastic spectacle that we have only the slimmest chance of ever winning.
Meanwhile, here are the top tips on how to score a Eurovision hit:
1. Giving your melody an incomprehensible title is bound to go down well. The likes of ‘Diggi-Loo-Diggi-Ley’, ‘A-ba-ni-bi’, and ‘Ding-a-Dong’ all won Eurovision glory;
2. Forgo the boycott and instead start campaigning for the independence of Gozo, Comino, Filfla and St Paul’s Islands. That’ll stun the Russian block’s neighbourhood watch alright.
3. And finally, don’t forget the gimmick. Think Lordi and their undead prosthetics, or Ukraine’s Dima Bilan, who unpacked a tiny ice rink from a specially made briefcase. Purleease, stay away from birds.
krischetcuti@gmail.com