In 1894, a man of breeding and vision unveiled his dream to create an international competition which adhered 'to an ideal of a higher life, to strive for perfection'. That man, Baron Pierre De Coubertin, envisaged a 'festival of the springtime of mankind' whose 'origins were completely egalitarian' and where beauty was glorified by 'the involvement of the philosophic arts'. But that was the Olympics. In 1955, someone (no-one, perhaps understandably, has ever claimed full responsibility) had a similar idea. Similar, but less worthy. Inspired by the San Remo Festival, this anonymous and presumably now thoroughly ashamed person put it to a meeting in Monaco that a song contest should be launched to amaze and delight the people of Europe through the exciting new medium of television. Just one year later, that contest took place in Lugano, Switzerland, under the name of 'The Eurovision Grand Prix', a title dreamed up by a British journalist whose name, surprise surprise, seems to have been lost in the mists of time.
 The Grand Prix, which is being held on May 15 this year, has much in common with its motorsport namesake - 20-odd competitors spending hour after attritional hour in a blur of noise and gaudy one-piece costumes in which the only thing of real interest is the result. Unlike Formula One, however, a German rarely wins. The inaugural contest piled on the agony for all concerned by insisting that each participant submitted not one but two songs, only for sanity to be restored in 1957 when just the one tune was allowed. If quantity has remained harmonised ever since, quality has never been an issue - something that endures to this day.
 Then, as now, luck beats skill, sex beats style and the French hate the British. There is no magic formula, no elixir to ensure victory. But there is one general rule to smooth the path to Euro glory: If you can't stand the beat, get the kitsch in. With this in mind, the UK's heartfelt entry this year, James Fox's ballad 'Hold On To Our Love', looks to have no chance against the likes of Sweden. Lena Philipsson's 'It Hurts' is an up-tempo pop/disco effort and the singer herself has gone for a Euro-friendly presentation - short white dress and high heels. Little wonder then that Sweden are among the bookies' favourites to wow the western world this year. But then again, like the Grand National, the odds count for nothing when the contest starts. Many competitors will fall along the way (although, alas, none will have the curtains placed around them prior to their humane destruction) before a winner crosses the musical equivalent of the Melling Road for the second time, passes The Elbow and brings the prize back to his or her or its homeland. But one thing's for sure in all this - music will be the winner. No. No really. | 
