CANBEUROVISION

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It’s not even a pun, is it? Whatever it is, Canbeurovision spread like wildfire. What was conceived as a mid-week Smiths slot-filler swiftly snowballed into three heats and a final that had to move venues (twice!) to accommodate the fevered appetites of a city bursting with talent and self-deprecation.  Full credit to visionary Chris Endrey,  who was  unflappable in coordinating an ever expanding logistical nightmare. In anyone else’s hands, it would have remained a one-off, but Endrey’s foresight and organisational acumen was superhuman – he even found time to order promotional mugs! And as always, props to Bevan Noble – ‘sound guy’ is too casual a term for him – I’m going with Sonic Titan from now on.

When I saw the callout for Canbeurovision – simply a Eurovision style song contest for Canberra suburbs – I knew I had to represent my beloved Queanbeyan (the joke is that Canbeurovision allowed Queanbeyan to enter the same way Eurovision allowed Australia and Israel).

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Being indolent-orientated, I didn’t want to have to put together a band for it, or even, you know, write a new song. I reached back to a song I already had – a whimsical techno number overlaid with free samples of Heems talking about cheese. I mean, what could be more perfect for a Eurovision-style contest than a song literally about cheese?

The song in place, I had to think of how to present it – thank Catherine, ’cause after two years of Cell Block dance-offs, synchronised dance is now a go-to in my skillset. I asked Nick (natch), and Krewdbits to help out – I love Krewdbits and have been waiting for an excuse to work with them. Ink Bits was unavailable, but Bambi was an immediate yes, and we had a crew.

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Leaning into the cheese theme, we all dressed in yellow and threw cheese sticks out to the crowd in the closing moments. I paired our performance with a deliberately basic karaoke-style video – the lyrics were accompanied by a a handful of Google-sourced photos of Queanbeyan, cheese, and lots of star wipes.

Nick and Bambi wrote the brilliant choreography, with limited direction from me on the structure. I knew from past experience that me – fat bloke least likely to have moves – bursting into synchronised dance towards the end of a routine was an absolute winner, and the cheers from the audience both times we performed confirmed this.

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That’s right, we performed this twice – making it through our heat and to the final. We levelled up for the final by adding Zev as a fourth dancer, chiefly because they already had an entire yellow ensemble. Unsurprisingly, they crushed it.

The brief was slight, and most people went a different direction than myself, writing or adapting songs specifically to speak to their chosen suburb. Which was great, but a Canberran spin, as Eurovision acts don’t sing about their home country. I set out wanting our act to be the strangest and well, mission accomplished.

The other acts were all incredible – seriously, I want a compilation CD/DVD. The concept seemingly brought the best out of everyone. It’s hard to pick favourites, but Sophie Chapman’s song about Isabella Plains is still stuck in my head.

The final was a recklessly good time. I was buzzing off it for days afterwards – the amount of love and positive energy in the room was palpable – if you don’t believe me, check out the all-group singalong for winners Dickson. Bless.

Photos by Marin Ollman and Richard Tuffin.

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