Eurovision goes out of tune with bare-faced cheek
WE are flocking to cities. According to data provided by Census 2016, nearly two-thirds of the population of Ireland now live in an urban area, with 25pc of us living in Dublin. Perhaps it is the lure of The Pale’s highquality broadband, Starbucks and Subway on every street corner, or the fact it has every mode of public transport short of a monorail, that has us heading in our droves towards its bright lights. But there is a downside.
The Japanese understand the negative effects of too much time spent in cities, as the greater Tokyo area is the most populous metropolitan area in the world. They have a word for healing the soul through a return to nature – shinrin-yoku. Its closest translation is ‘forest bathing’, or simply the medicinal benefits of a walk in the woods.
It is one of many Japanese words that have no direct translation into English, another being shoganai – or ‘a situation that can’t be helped, and also is out of our control’, much like our epic losing streak in Eurovision.
Japan isn’t in Eurovision – but it can only be a matter of time. The presence of Australia in the competition is an open door to all on planet Earth (and in much of our solar system) who fancy having a go at music’s zaniest song contest. This year’s spectacle even featured a streaker, draped in an Australian flag, baring his backside, presumably as an allusion to a nation from the arse-end of the globe taking part in what is theoretically a European event.
The culprit turned out to be Ukrainian man, Vitalii Sediuk, who has made a name for himself in the worst currency of all: pranks. He ended up a vanilla also-ran on a night of giddy, deranged cabaret. But beyond the buttocks, dancing Harambe and yodelling, the most striking thing about the competition was how eerily familiar the songs sounded. The winning act, a young psychology graduate from Portugal, made a plea for ‘real music’ which would suggest he didn’t take much notice in college when they covered passiveaggressive behaviour. Salvador Sobral’s lofty stance was a bit rich, coming from someone who came seventh in Portugal’s version of Pop Idol. However homogenised the music seemed, it was nice to hear him singing in his native tongue, especially for some Portuguese speakers who have taken up residence in Ireland.