Again, the question has to be asked if this is indeed art! It certainly comes to something in this contest when Conan and his camp dancer (dressed in green bridesmaid outfits) minced across the stage.
I find this truly unfathomable … and I’ve read the English lyrics, so Lord only knows what the 20 countries of Europe (or thereabouts) will make of it.
Give Conan his due, though, he stuck rigidly to his genre, his concept and the selling point of this song – namely him.
His dancer did much the same writhing on the stage as in the national final, but the deafening silence in the Press Centre spoke volumes.
In a sea of the weird and the strange, this doesn’t stand out.