2020, the Eurovision Song Contest, and the Importance of Finding Your Tribe
2020 is almost over. In 3 days, it’ll be a new year, and most of the planet expects (hopes) that they’ll be able to hug their close ones without any worry. Hope to travel to new places, experience another mass live event, or at the very least, take a walk without a mask on. (I hope you’re wearing masks, btw. Please, wear a mask.)
And this year, more than ever, it’s worth looking back at what we’ve been through and admire the fact that no matter what, we have persevered probably the toughest year this generation has witnessed (so far? 😬). I’d like to tell you a little bit about my experience this year and how something completely virtual made a big impact on my life, and the life of a few other lovely individuals.
In case you happen to know me, you’ll know that I am nearing 30, that I’m a software engineer and that I’ve got a few particular interests that I’m very passionate about. But, like, VERY passionate. Part of that might come from the fact I’m from south-east Europe. It’s a region notorious for being extremely opinionated and getting fired up about things that, to most, seem very insignificant. Another, much bigger, part of this, I believe, comes from growing up as a confused, impressionable queer teenager. It was these particular interests that provided an escape, and gave me a way to find people like me, while in real life surrounded by those who were different to who I was. Growing up in the late 2000s, the internet was just mature enough to serve as a platform to find people you can relate to (and not at the point where these are the ONLY people you can interact with), and that’s exactly what happened. I, and I’m sure many others, created a happy world around things we care about, while the “real” world was pretty lonely, even if I was surrounded by many friends.
So what are these interests I speak of? Well, I’m obsessed with pop music, and pop culture in general, I stan our lord and savior Britney Spears, I’m a big Harry Potter fan, and most of all, I adore the Eurovision Song Contest. And it’s the latter that I’d like to talk to you about here.
The Eurovision Song Contest, in case you don’t know, is a yearly music competition where 40-ish European countries (with a few guests, i.e. Israel, Australia, Morocco) each send a song and the public and some juries vote on what’s the best one. It’s a colorful, confetti-packed, schlager-infested, power ballad heavy week-long event, with pyrotechnics galore. So once a winner is chosen, the curtains close, and that’s it until next May. Or at least it’s that way for most people. For me, and a small portion of Eurovision’s almost 200 million viewers, there’s so much more.
The months leading up to the contest are filled with excitement, anticipation, fun and sometimes even anger, as we wait to see where do we go next year, who’s gonna participate, what are the songs gonna be like, what is the stage gonna look like, whose vocals matter, and who actually can’t sing for sh*t! So you can imagine the misery than ensued when on March 18th, 2020, the organizers of the contest announced the 2020 edition (to be held in Rotterdam in May), was cancelled. To me, who was at that moment in complete lockdown in one of the most covid-impacted countries in the world at the time, this was the moment when it all suddenly became real.
So after processing the news, some time in April, I received an invite from a good friend of mine, to join a zoom call, with about a dozen people I’ve never met before (mostly from a website called escXtra.com). We’d watch the songs chosen for 2020, rank them, put it into a spreadsheet and choose our own winner. Sure. What else could I do on a lockdown Saturday. I invited another friend, grabbed a drink and spent a few hours chatting with these strangers, feeling incredibly nervous when it was my turn to unmute and cast my vote, perpetually afraid of judgement. The judgement never really came, the people were very friendly (some of them also quite attractive), and invited us to join again, as they just started rewatching old editions and choosing alternate winners for each year. Three nights a week, until the lockdown ends, and we can get on with our lives. That was the plan.
It all sounded just like my kind of thing, so I said yeah and things kicked off. As the coronavirus was causing havoc left and right, and uncertainty reigned, having three nights per week dedicated to watching something I genuinely enjoy, was essential. I can’t overemphasize how important it was to not only have a routine, but also get good entertainment, while getting to know some new people, all from the comfort of my own bedroom. And with 65 years of the contest, and just over 1500 songs between them, we’d have way more then enough to get us through the pandemic.
For the first few months it was all business as usual. A YouTube video over a screen shared through zoom, typing our votes into a sheet and then casually chatting till long into the night. I started getting really familiar with these new people, as there was a sort of a bond since day one, but also by now, I’ve been seeing them for hours on end, week after week. It was a strange feeling, but very enjoyable nonetheless. I got to know them better, and was pleasantly surprised to see we all come from different walks of life, different countries, an age range of early 20s to mid 50s, yet we all come together and none of that matters. The only thing we care about if one of them will downvote our favorite song, and trigger an immense wave of shock and hatred, lasting for somewhere between 2 and 5 seconds.
As the year went on, the end of the pandemic nowhere in sight, the lockdown still strong, and our bonds getting just as solid, this thing became a little more intense. At one point, I realized my expertise could be of use to this, so as a sort of passion project, I developed an animated scoreboard to improve our experience. One of us just happens to be a graphic designer, who was able to change up the look of it all to match the visuals of the year we were watching. In case of later shows, which involve semi finals, we’d qualify our own songs, and curate a final show which was far more correct. Soon, a “production team” was born, in charge of developing entire shows. And then something strange happened. The lockdowns were lifted. A certain level of freedom achieved, real life started coming back. Yet, for some reason, we all decided to stay. We’d join in on the calls from our summer trips. We’d involve our “real-life” friends as spectators and guest voters (The scoreboard even supported this). And before we knew it, some time in the autumn, it happened. Our semi-random order of watching the shows ended with 1973 (Luxembourg still deservedly won). And once again, not even that was enough to get us to let go. The pandemic is still on, life is still crazy, and the safety of a tribe of people you feel connected to, even if miles away, was too strong. So the “production team”, consisting of myself (head of programming), and four others who volunteered their time and energy to the cause, got to work. We started developing themed shows, customized to fit our quirky little group, and it felt amazing.
Some of them were basic: Find the highest ranked songs, and choose the best one (It was Croatia 1998, FYI). Find the worst one (Estonia 2008 — you’ve been warned.) (Side note: this show took place on Halloween, at a time when parties were illegal. So we did what we had to do, and came dressed as our own Eurovision nightmares). We then took all of the runners-up from the “real life” contests and pit them against each other. Did a personal choice round, where everyone submits their personal favorite and see what happens. And then, there were some… more creative.. ones… Including:
- a Siegel-show (songs written by Ralph Siegel — would not recommended)
- a fu*k-marry-kill round (series of 3 shows where we each chose artists we’d do the respective things to)
- a post-Christmas “God show” on a Sunday morning (songs involving biblical references)
- Bilingual-vision (songs that include a, usually unnecessary, language change halfway through)
- and even a chair show (acts that involved a chair/sofa on stage)
Each one with their own visual identity, of course.
We spent weeks paying attention to the American election, doing emergency calls whenever a state was called, or the buffoon that is Donald Trump held a press conference. We held daytime office calls so our work-from-home days felt less lonely. We discuss current events from all over the world, from Brexit, protests in Belarus, to the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict, to the latest seasons of RuPaul’s Drag Race and any new music releases. Everyone received a personalized video for their birthday. We mailed Christmas cards to each other in a game of Secret-Santa. We have so many inside jokes that we created our very own Cards Against Humanity card deck. We now talk about anything and everything, as if we’ve been friends for many years (some of the people indeed have, but still). Every once in a while, someone would bring up the fact that what we do is borderline insane (We are aware of it), but the feeling of finding your tribe in a year like this, is completely worth it. As we head into 2021, unaware of what it’s gonna bring, we remain hopeful. We plan on meeting up some time in May, and make these friendships feel more “real”, even though they already are.
If you’re still reading, thank you, and have a happy new year. I hope 2020 brought something, anything that makes it worth it and I hope you, if you already haven’t, find your tribe.