Sam Ryder wuz robbed, but you would be hardhearted to object to Ukrainian win

In the end, it was political. Indeed, blatantly and unapologetically political, as it is so often accused of being. A huge sympathetic response from the public vote carried Ukraine from a respectable mid-table positing into the winning spot for Eurovision. You would be hardhearted to object, if it wasn’t for the fact that their silly faux folk-pop froth pushed Britain’s deserved champion Sam Ryder into second place.

Second place, though. Who would have even thought it possible? After twenty years of hurt, and the dreaded nul points for James Newman last year, it was extraordinary that Britain’s entry was even on the leader board at all, let alone front runner all night and top of the expert jury votes, before the public had their say. 

Indeed, the British public gave a maximum 12 points to Ukraine, so we can’t even complain. The Eurovision Song contest was created in 1951 to promote cross-border co-operation following the Second World War, and so it is entirely fitting that it could serve as an instrument for promoting peace and harmony in our beleaguered times, offering moral support to an embattled European nation under assault from a fascistic superpower.

It’s just a shame about the song. Not that anyone who has followed Eurovision over all these decades of errant silliness would seriously argue that it was ever about the music – but if only the Kalush Orchestra could have been persuaded to leave that irritating penny whistle back at home in the war zone. Along with that terrible rapper with the shaggy pink lampshade on his head. Indeed, several members of the band looked like they had taken their fashion tips from an exotic home furnishing store and dressed as carpets and lampshades, whilst others went for the tried and trusted national costume look. 

Ukraine’s plucky representatives resembled one of those bands foisted upon hapless tourists at an all-inclusive hotel buffet on a local music night, mixing up boisterous traditional airs with an unholy mélange of cheesy rock, dance and rap. All that was missing was a belly dancer. And yet, buoyed with some local tipple, who amongst us hasn’t had a rip-roaring time in such trashy company, sung and danced along with effusive joy, and returned home clutching a hand-pressed CD that will never see the inside of a CD player?

There are, essentially, three modes of Eurovision song: camp over-the-top dance banger, fake folk knees up and histrionically emotional ballad. Kalush Orchestra mixed up the first two of those Euro staples and gained extra emotional heft from their righteous political cause. It was a splendid result, and I am sure Vladimir Putin is weeping into his record collection even as we speak.

But Sam Ryder wuz robbed. The British Tik Tok star did everything right, composing a tightly compressed sci-fi themed melodic pop stormer with Ed Sheeran collaborator Amy Wadge, then delivering it with an exuberant intensity that allowed his winning personality to shine and his high, dramatic voice to take flight. He really threw so much energy and charisma into his performance, I half expected him to strap on a jet pack at the end and zoom through the roof. I am generally sceptical about the star-making power of Eurovision, but in Ryder’s case I think the future is there for the taking.

Ryder’s was one of only a handful of songs performed during the show that genuinely sounded like a proper contemporary pop smash. Indeed, his main competition all night was from the two other big, smart, sexy and authentically modern songs. One was Spain’s Latin pop dancefloor monster SloMo by Chanel (the singer, not the perfumier), a very on-trend cross between Shakira and Rosalia that really delivered on its promise of “booty hypnotic”. The other was ABBA’s home country Sweden, with a very classy and emotional singalong Hold Me Closer, by a woman who called herself Cornelia Jakobs but was obviously a clone of Dido.

The thing is that everything in  Eurovision reminds you of someone or something else, because that is the nature of a music competition that acts as a kind of overblown Saturday night TV shadow to authentic pop culture. These are songs written by professional teams on the edges of mainstream success, delivered by cabaret singers who can’t quite cut it in the pop charts. It is fake pop for people who don’t care about pop music, packed with gimmicky, contrived by-the-numbers songs that sound a bit like hits if you’re not really paying attention. It’s an overblown version of Stars in Their Eyes.

On this year’s show we got a bit of George Ezra-meets-Rag’n’Bone Man (Poland), George Ezra-meets-Alanis Morisette (Armenia) and George Ezra-in-a-Spaghetti Western (Estonia). There was a lot of George Ezra influence, oddly, whilst not so much Ed Sheeran or Adele. 

You might have also spotted Years and Years meets Robson and Jerome (Italy), a kind of crooning Coldplay meets Michael Buble (or Nat King Coleplay, as I anointed Switzerland’s entry) and a whole lot of distant European family members of Mumford & Sons jiggling about with fiddles and acoustic guitars.  

Norway blatantly tried to recreate the madness of Ylvis’s offbeat hit What Does the Fox Say by presenting a song about wolves and bananas by two men who called themselves Subwoolfer, whilst Germany scored the dread nul points (in the jury stage) with a deeply horrendous pop rap song that attempted to cross Bon Jovi with Eminem and ended up with something even less appealing than Vanilla Ice.

In such company, Sam Ryder looked like an authentic talent. Given Britain’s difficult relation with Europe, and our two decades of abject failure at Eurovision, it would have been considered a victory if he had just managed to avoid scoring nul points, so coming second to a universally supported political cause has to be considered a proper triumph. The Space Man cometh.