IT'S RUSLANA: Oh, excellent choice Europe. The UK wound up with 29 points, which was the sort of solid, mid-table performance it probably deserved. And Sweden chipped in with three points for Norway, saving it from another nul points hell. Result.

WE INTERRUPT OUR EUROVISION COVERAGE: ... to report that Gwyneth and Chris Martin have had their kid. They've called the poor little fucker Apple. Let's hope he's not rotten to the core. Or anything.

EUROVISION SCORING: So, it's been the usual mixture of nations doing neighbours favours and small countries trying to persuade the rest of Europe not to roll over them. Maybe they should just get the Vatican to do all the votes, although that would probably just mean Italy would waltz it. So far, Malta's surprisingly low down, but Ukraine seem to be walking it. James Fox has probably done worse than he deserves with the competition he was up against. Greece might just be able to steal it, but it looks like our Ruslana will be crowned.

EUROVISION 2004: Last year's winner kicks things off; she's spent the last twelve months slowly trying to turn herself into Madonna. Another fifty two weeks of Maddy crumbling and her getting puffed and bleached and she might have pulled it off, meeting la Ciccone halfway. Is what she's singing here last year's winner?

Oh, now she's singing in English - "please, hold your head high" she implores, although she illustrates this by sticking out her sparrow chest. At least holding your head up would avert your eyes.

The hosts this year are Karen from Will and Grace and a bloke with a wig that Playmobil would think looked a bit too obviously stuck on. Karen warms up the crowd by singing Volare, badly. The audience fail to join in.

First up, Spain - Ramon. Looks like Peter Andre trying to impress Ricky Martin. Ricky Martin would clean up in Eurovision, seriously. The song sounds Spanish, which at least means it scores on some sort of credibility scale, and the drummer has got glitter on his drums, which is always nice.

Austria - Tie Break. Three boys - one with spiky hair, one slightly pudgy with kind eyes, one totally wet. Didn't this line-up take on Buffy in season six? They do a standard boyband-at-christmas tune, but have backing singers - even Boyzone managed their own harmonies, lads. For a group like you to have backing singers is like the guitar acts having someone hidden behind a curtain with a Spanish guitar and a Burt Weedon book.

Norway - Knut Anders Soren. A really, really cheap-looking silver suit here; they must have been collecting tinfoil all over the nation for this. The song is standard Euro "lifting me up" fayre.

France - Jonatan Cerrada - that's the French for "Peter Cetera", it seems. He's got an Erinsborough look about him, and some interpretative dance going on closer to his shoulder than we'd like. Sadly, the only thing they have to interpret is the words "dull ballad". Shit, that's Grace Jones on stilts dancing with him. What's that meant to tell us?

Serbia & Montenegro - Zeljko (or something, our notes let us down at this point). It starts with a flute, before Todd from Corrie wanders on - white suit, of course; this year is so Martin Bell in the male fashion stakes. There's also a balilaika or some other sort of not quite guitar. This is serbia's first time in the Eurovision, which might explain why they've gone for the sort of national folk tune that most other nations got out of their systems by 1963.

Malta - Julie and Ludwig. She's a flighty weather girl type - "Like a butterfly". He's a cod opera singer. It's mariah and Luciano, together at last. It's actually pretty good, in a European way; it has that Puppet on A String stop-go thing going on, and she sings poppy and then he replies in a big false opera piece of proper singing. Near the end, Julie gets to do some Lesley Garrett in the bathroom type scales, but it's not nearly as effective when the roles are reversed.

Netherlands - Re-Union. Two blokes sat on stools, one with an acoustic guitar. We don't approve of this in wine bars, and we don't approve of it here.

Germany - Max. Jesus, another stool. It's the quiet sit down stretch, is it? Max is like Phil Collins with hair, and just imagine how self-satisfied that would be. This song must have won some sort of national heat, but its hard to imagine - even having heard Coldplay - songs that could have been so weak as to lose out to this.

Albania - Anjeza Shahiri. This is what Dannii Minogue would have looked like after fifty years of working in communist coal mines and only having one pair of shoes. Albanians like their films to feature Norman Wisdom, and clearly don't have any higher standards when it comes to choosing songs. "I'm queen of the world" claims Amjeza, before the song ends suddenly, like the tanks have arrived.

Ukraine - Ruslana. It's cavegirl with boots. She's butt-fucking Holly Vallance, both musically and, quite possibly, back in the dressing room. There's lots of "Hois" and "Haa!" and fire and leather and bellys. And boots. The sound of glasses being smashed in a fireplace. With boots. Forever.

Croatia - Ivan Mikulic. Apparently this was a big hit in Croatia. He's got a tiny set of features placed on a very large face, like having a kid's meal on the All Day Breakfast plate. At times the song appears to want to turn into a James Bond theme - the AHa one, we think - but never quite works up the momentum.

Bosnia - Hezegovina - Deen. Called "In The Disco", by the look of it, inspired by Mr. Smiths in Warrington. They've stolen as much from Donna Summer's Hot Stuff as they dared. "Up and down, here we go" they trill. Deer's earpiece falls out, which is reason to hate him - he's the only person in Europe not having to listen to his song.

It's half time, so they attempt to hop around outside broadcasts. Only one works - the woman in Istanbul does appear in vision, but she looks as if she's plotting how to have her husband killed and doesn't speak.

Belguim - Xandee. One of the dancers is in the first hotpants of the evening, which doesn't offset the effect of a drummer in a soccer shirt - make an effort, lad. There's some safe sex styled bump and grind. "You are my brother, my sister tonight" insists the would-be Diva, setting up the prospect of some awkward incest role play later in the evening.

Russia - Julia Savichera. There's a small circus troop on stage. The Avril Lavigne lookalike looks terrified - not only is she having to sing in front of thirty million people, live, but she's being forced to take part in some acrobatic display as well. Mind you, the song's so lame she could probably have benefitted from having a spot of plate spinning to interest the audience too. By the end of the song, she's got a big patch of red dye from one of the body painted tumblers all over her arm, and she appears to have a disagreement with him before getting to the "thank you" bit.

Former Yugoslavian Republic of Macedonia - Tose Proeski. Tose's cloak is almost as huge as his country's name. He actually puts some genuine sounding emotion into his performance, which is rare in these circumstances. His dancers get a big ribbon and tie him to a chair, but not in a sex way. "Life is a story and you've got to tell it. Life is a song, and you;ve got to sing it. You've got to know how to live it." Wasn't that one of the Buffy the Musical songs?

Greece - Sakis Rouvais. This was notable at semi finals for him pulling the hankies from the back of his dancers, but they seem to have dropped that - probably afraid that it would look too much like Tose's ribbon play. They still do the girls changing from white suits to gold bikinis - something Martin Bell would do, during the longer Newsnights of my youth, of course. The song sounds like a Hispanic reworking of No Doubt's Hey Baby.

Iceland - Jonsi. Another bloody white suit. He's this year's johnny Logan. Or maybe Charles Aznavour.

Ireland - Chris Doran. Oh, this is actually this year's Johnny Logan. In a white suit. Clearly, Ireland is trying to win again, which means their song is like when paul Merton is too busy trying to win on Have I Got News For You - it's a lot duller than it could be. Chris looks like he calls everyone "Mate", and he's going to be insufferable when he's back at the call centre on Monday.

Poland - Blue Cafe. Called 'Love song", which sounds like it was a working title and they forgot to change it. The singer is Betty Blue's more homely young sister, wearing a revealing dress which could have put a nymphomaniac in need of viagra; some guys in white suits with brass; a bloke with guitar - they all produce a bit of a mess. Betty Blue Junior sings Love Song "Laave Sung", like she's in fackin' eastenders.

United Kingdom - James Fox. Actually, compared with the other single blokes in white suits, James doesn't sound too bad this evening. He's probably the best in his class, although the song clearly would rather be a terrace chant than a love song, which might harm its chances. There's something of the Marti Pellow about Mr. Fox.

Cyprus - Lisa Andreas. Actually from Gillingham, which makes you wonder if Cypriots are sat at home going "I dunno, we open our borders to the EU and before you know it there's bloody asylum seekers from England taking all our slots on international song contests..." It's the sort of song that would go down well with an ITV audience - almost pretty girl in the most expensive dress Top Shop has to offer singing fairly empty words to a pleasent enough tune that wouldn't scare Dido. Unfortunately, all of them are watching Millionaire Olympic special.

Turkey - Athena. Fuck me, it's the red hot chili peppers. No, it's Bad Manners. They appear to sing "what you doing, you raving whore?" but presumably don't actually do so. It's very youth club with lottery funding to buy some instruments.

Romania - Sanda. The poor woman s Christina Milian singing the sort of song Sabrina would have treated as a cast-off. She's had an hour and forty minutes to get ready, but still forgot to put on a dress.

Sweden - Lena Philipsson. She does that walking while holding the mic stand thing that's meant to look sexy but just makes it seem like the stand is really heavy. "It hurts, oh how it hurts inside in the middle of the night" complains Lena. Never have a Cottage Pie before bed, love. She smiles all the way through this tale of pain and heartache, which means either she loves pain, or else she hasn't thought her act through properly.

Now, to the votes...

ADD SOME EXTRA COMPLICATIONS: Just when it seemed that Phil Spector might have turned the tide in the case of the dead actor in his house, he's decided to make things a little more complicated for himself, by beating up his driver. The driver apparently placed Spector under Citizen's Arrest after a dispute over "business" descended into the sort of bare-knuckle bout best left to younger, less pudgy, more naked men; Spector then put the driver under Citizen's arrest, too. We didn't know you could do that - we'd always assumed that a citizen's arrest was like bunny ears, and the first person to say the words won. Anyway, with them both having arrested themselves, they had to wait for the real cops to turn up. When they did - we'd imagine they only paused to put in the call to Celebrity Justice, or possibly America's Dumbest Criminals - they charged them both under suspiscion of misdemeanour battery. Both are due in court June 14th, both will be taking public transport.

PREPARE FOR THE FEAST. HAVE SOME LEFTOVERS: We're hankering after a big win for Ukraine this evening, simply because we think their act comes across like they dress like that all the time. Meanwhile, as you ready yourself for this evenings' festivities, browse round Technorati for Eurovisional blogs - possibly the only event in the world which attracts English language attention that isn't dominated by English language bloggers?; Popjustice are already looking forward to 2005 (which, remember, could be in Ukraine - which might mean they'd get the Wedding Present spin off band The Ukranians in to do the entertainment between the songs and the voting) and sample our coverage from last year. But mostly: VOTE RUSLANA! VOTE UKRAINE!.

CHAKA CHAKA CHAKA KHAN. CHAKA CHAKA CHAKA KHAN. CHAKA KHAN, LET ME HONOUR YOU. LET ME HONOUR YOU CHAKA KHAN: Who would you pick as woman of the year? Chaka Khan, apparently, according to the "I'm Every Woman" Conference. Mind you, they probably had no choice having hijacked her song as the title for their event - if it had been the "Simply The Best" conference then it would have been Tina Turner picking up the prize. And if it had been called "Can You See My Gusset Fest", the Christina would have been croaking her gratitude.

EVEN WHEN I'M WITH MY COWBOO...: Congratulations to Kelly Rowland, who;s just got engaged to Roy Williams of the Dallas Cowboys. NBCi5 news announces Singer Kelly Rowland To Wed Dallas Cowboy Roy Williams - Couple Together For Six Months, which we hope means they started dating around Christmas rather than just being a gloomy prediction for how long they'll last.

For those of you who don't follow football, this is what she'll be getting:

WOOOOOOOOAH BODYFORM...: As if the loss of "It must be Yop" wasn't bad enough, now Bodyform are ditching the Woah Bodyform jingle. According to NYLPM it was "the most-heard piece of music in Britain in the 90s", but that's surely not true - what about the News At Ten theme? Or Channel 4's der-der-dum-dah?

FAREWELL, KING'S REACH TOWER: It's been confirmed that the NME is to move from Kings Reach Tower, one of its longest held addresses (Danny Baker was still doing Tzers when it moved there, it was so long ago), when IPC quits its home to move to trendy new offices near the Tate Modern. We've already done our stroll down memory lane last September when Time Warner first proposed knocking down Kings Reach Tower, and we suppose the staff who work for IPC will actually prefer working in a modern building rather than something that looks like it was designed by an architect who not only hated people but had just been dumped the day he got the commission. But even so: No more Kings Reach Tower? Whither "sole agents: Gordon & Gotch"?

FOX OVER THE HILL; HANDS OVER TO HILL: We think we might have rumbled Dr Fox by outing his secret double life as "Steve Jones", as he's just announced that he's quitting The Hit40 UK show or whatever it is they've been calling the Pepsi Chart since Pepsi pulled its sponsorship to invest in getting Pink to wear chain mail biknis.

The new presenter team has been announced. So, it's out with the old:



And in with the new:



In a bizarre recreation of the Radio One breakfast show Carcrash that was Greening and Ball, they're pairing Katy Hill with Simon Hirst. Hirst does stuff on Galaxy105, the Yorkshire variant of the Galaxy brand. He's not quite so, um, telegenic:



He also seems to have the sort of on-air persona which requires him to be known as "Hirsty." We give the partnership about three weeks, although Katy claims they've been working on ideas for months. Working on ideas? For a chart show? Here's an idea: you get a list of records, in order of sales. You read them out in order, lowest sale to highest, pausing to play each one. How about that for a format?

FRED DURST'S THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: i am amazed at the things i see and hear in the news about our world. i feel like i am in a bad robocop movie. the headlines seem seem so unreal. the chaos and decay of a species unfolding before our very eyes. the rise and fall of human beings is being written in real time. this won't be a vicious cycle that continues on a path way to the righteous world. we are seeing and suffering through the beginning of the apocalypse. - continues in this vein for several more lines - "BTW- we rocked CBS last night on Pepsi Smash. it airs May 27. it felt like it was gonna be so cheesy, but as soon as we hit the stage we decided to play by "our" rules, which is "no" rules, and let it come out."

So, that's chaos and decay. On the next Pepsi Smash. Thanks, Fred

THE VERY DEFINITION OF GRUESOME TWOSOME: Can you imagine the pain of being a fly on the wall when Marilyn 'It's not my fault, I'm just a clown' Manson and Avril 'Look, I'm not a punk' Lavigne get together? Apparently the pair often make time to hook up with each other whenever they can:

"When we're in the same city, we get together and he's so cool. One time, we hung out in his room and watched movies. I went to his show a couple of times and hung out on the tour bus after.
When we're together, it's really cool because we just sit there and totally talk. It's so healthy when I can sit down and talk to another artist who's doing what I'm doing."

Right, we make that three occasions, then, which while admittedly being more often than I visited my last two doctors, hardly makes for bossom buddies. I wonder what they "totally" talk about? And is it fair to say that Manson's doing what Lavigne's doing? I guess they're both repackaging pretend rebellion in an acceptable and consumable form.

WE CALL IT SELF-CENSORSHIP: The Black Eyed Peas have chosen to alter their lyrics for the single version of Hey Mama, to avoid being thought of as no-good-iraqi-kissing-liberals ("to avoid upsetting people troubled by the war in Iraq"). The album version has the line "We multiply like we mathmatice, and then drop bombs like we in the Middle East" but has now become "We multiply like we mathmatice, and then drop bombs 'cause you're shakin' to the beat." It's a curious tweak, because surely everybody - even Donald Rumsfeld - should be troubled by the war in Iraq; but more importantly, isn't it more disturbing to suggest, during the course of a song designed to make people shake their booties, that you'll have a bomb dropped on you because you're dancing?

YOUNG WOMAN GOES TO AMSTERDAM WITH BOY, SMOKES POT SHOCK: A young woman went to Amsterdam and smoked pot in a coffee shop.

Apparently, people who saw Britney doing this says that she claimed to be very fond of pot, but also went "I like the smell of it" - which seems to be a curious thing to say if you're a regular user - wouldn't you use a comparative rather than an absolute?

Mind you, if she does smoke a lot of dope, that would give us a handy get out for when she says something stupid like "Let's all just do as the President tells us."

GOTTA GET THROUGH THIS: Having driven his car off the road in New Zealand, Daniel Bedingfield has agreed to take driving lessons in the UK rather than face court over careless driving charges. Might help him towards getting a full licence, too.

MAYBE TIME TO THINK ABOUT SHELTERED HOUSING?: Now, there's no shame in owning slippers. Something soft and forgiving to wear about the house is the sort of cheap luxury everybody should enjoy. However, there's a line to cross, because once you go out of doors in slippers, you cease to be comfortable and become confused. To turn up at parties wearing slippers - as Rod Stewart does, claiming they're "more comfortable", puts you one step away from being asked if you know who the Prime Minister is.

UNMAKING THE BAND: Sean Combs, aka O, Puff You And Your Daddy, has called time on DaBand, the slightly literally named hiphop act he put together for money ("for MTV's Making The Band") because, apparently, they weren't quite up their own arses enough. P explains:

"Initially my goal with Da Band was to make sure the world saw realistically how serious hip-hop was. So at times it was kind of embarrassing to me the way they were portraying themselves, not taking it as serious as most artists take this art form. The venture with Da Band was successful because it had the TV backing. But at the end of the day, it's not worth me getting money for something I think misrepresents what (my record label) Bad Boy and hip-hop is about."

Goodness, reality TV talent show contestants not approaching their work as if it were a vital piece of the cultural fabric - whatever next? It'll be kids doing the Bagpuss colouring competition at Burger King purely because they want the prize, not for the joy of creating a thing of beauty.

Diddy is pissed that the faux hiphoppers misrepresented hip hop - apparently, they had pointless bickering rows all the time, but none escalated into shooting incidents.

GOODBYE, YELLOW BRICK ROAD. HELLO, PEACHTREE ROAD: Elton John is recording again - it's understandable, what with him losing that lucartive Post Office advert, and the resulting set - named Peachtree Road after a street in Atlanta - is expected in November. There's a song called 'Freaks In Love' amongst them. So, still writing songs about the Royal Family.

WHEN ROCK GODS CLASH: There's something that's really puzzling us about the latest Mozzer attack: he's ripped strips off David Bowie, saying that he's "no longer David Bowie" and insisting that the public only liked Ziggy Stardust and that was someone else's idea.

But here's the puzzlement - back when he was talking to the NME (the first time round), Morrissey insisted that the "last of the international playboys" were "Bowie, Bolan, Devoto and me." This might have been a while ago, but it was long after Bowie had abandoned Ziggy. We wonder if someone forgot to send a Christmas card one year?

GOD OF HEADFUCK ACKNOWLEDGES GREATER POWER: IPR LAWYERS: Marilyn Manson and Madonna Wayne Gacy are suing former bandmate Scott Putesky (shouldn't he be called something like Mansfield Yorkshire Ripper?*). Putesky has tried to stick out a bunch of old recordings which were made when Manson was working under the "spooky kids" banner. Garcy and Manson both want a quarter of a million quid. The reasons for why they want that much for an album that can't have sold more than ten copies isn't clear - perhaps they've seen the RIAA charge USD7,500 a track...

* - apparently, he was Daisy Berkowitz back in the day

AN OBSESSION RENEWED: You might remember that last year we got a bit obsessed with a band called Honeypunk, pondering just how it could be that whenever you logged on the server was "too busy" to show pictures. Now, we're just curious as to why when you vist honeypunks.com you get ttaken to a totally different artist? (Peppercorn, since you ask)?

LOVE IN THE DOCK. AGAIN: Courtney Love has appeared in court again. If it's Thursday, then it'll be New York, and the charges relating to hitting the guy on the head with the microphone stand. Yadda, yadda, not guilty plea. Where it gets interesting is just after this picture:



When she gave an impromptu press conference in a toilet. Amongst the items on the agenda:

* "Mrs. Consuela was the pet name for his genitals." It was unclear whose.
* "Let me say something rude - I'm really rich!"
* "They're having sex with girls from my Web site - little girls, 15, 16, 17, 18." It was unclear who "they" are.
* "Check this out! I have to watch video of [two people] having sex in my bed, and he puts my jewelry on her."
* "I think God fucked me for committing too many adulteries."
* "I need a cigarette or I'll die!"
* "No! No! I don't do drugs. I was a junkie - I can't medicate myself - you gotta really watch it."

Then she ran on and on about her ex Jim Barber, the bloke whose house she was supposedly breaking in to (see the one of the other court cases); and how Russell Crowe wanted her to go with him to the Golden Globes, only somebody must have wiped the answering phone message (hey, Courtney, you could also try 'maybe there's a fault on the line, too'); "trailtors around her" are embezzling the royalties from Nirvana recordings - including a "hippie lady in Maui". Just imagine, someone getting rich off the back off Kurt, eh? And how the police "just have a conspiracy against rocker chicks."

There's more:
""I ran around with a married man. It's my own sin, my own fault and I just want to say I'm sorry. Adutlery is bad and maybe this is God's way of punishing me, and I want to apologize to his former wife" Courtney sobbed, before adding, "although God knows what kind of life you've led, lady
...My daughter said to me the other day that she wanted to get rid of her horse because she didn't want it anymore, but I know it's because she knows we can't afford it." (This from the woman who was rich a quarter of a rant ago)

She also apologised to Dave Grohl at some point, but nobody who was there seems quite sure for what.

SOME CANDY TALKING: We'd been worried about Gareth Gates' future, since it clearly doesn't lay in music. Happily, the lad has just qualified as a speech therapist, so he's got something to fall back on. The only drawback is that he doesn't think he's going to be able to take any sessions alone, in case people fake stutters to get close to him, so he's going to be quite expensive. But we're actually impressed - he's been studying for this for two years which suggets he's always been pretty level headed and not just clinging to the "there'll be a job on ITV2 when the hits dry up" career plan most talent show singers seem to have sketched out.

EAT BANDWIDTH: There's another batch of tip-top quality downloads from the nice people at the Playlouder Singles Club, this month featuring mp3s from Pure Reason Revolution, The Rakes, and best of all, The Honeymoon. Did we mention it was all for free? Because it is.

"AND WE'LL GO ON BEARING THE GRUDGE UNTIL THE WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION ARE FOUND: Radio stations across America are still refusing to play the Dixie Chicks over their "we're ashamed the President comes from Texas" quote. Of course, the stations are quick to claim they're not banning the Chicks for not being pro-Bush, just that "the fans don't like it." Shane Finch of WTRS (Thunder County, Florida) says it's all about polling:

We really watched that interview to gauge whether to put them back on the radio or not the next morning."
Shortly after the controversy in March, Finch polled his audience and found about 98 percent wished to ban the group from the airwaves.
Recently he slid the Chicks into a promotional advertisement on the radio, along with other bands whose music the station would play.
"We got lambasted for even that promo," he said. So he decided the station would still not play the Chicks.
"We just polled our listeners and found they were not willing to forgive them until they showed some remorse," he said. "They've never come off as acting as if they are even remotely sorry for what they said.

Remorse? For not having the same opinion as somebody else? Okay.

THE PUNKS NOT DEAD: We're delighted that Kiril took the time out to bring Steve Jone's appearance in the Washington Post to our attention - not just because he confesses that while he was in the Sex Pistols, he listened to Boston, but also because it reports that he's now doing a radio show in LA. Scarily, he looks the part - in fact, he might actually be Dr. Fox:

ARE YOU STILL HERE?: Kerry McFadden, who won something quite a while ago now, is so desperate for publicity she's taken to begging for a cameo in the Harry Potter movies. "Gissa job, gissa job, go on, I can do that" she squeals, "Being a goblin? I can be a goblin. Go on, please..."

McFadden used to be briefly famous.

EMI WINS BATTLE: A judge in New York has thrown out some of the claims Avatar Records had brought against EMI, saying the smaller label had failed to provide evidence to support its claim that the major had failed to promote its records and falisified sales returns. Allegations that EMI broke a verbal agreement to extend its deal with Avatar [LA Times; free subscription] are being allowed to go ahead, although in a great piece of news for EMI, the judge ordered Avatar to pay USD1.1million in withheld fees. That'll keep Robbie Williams in McFlurries for another couple of weeks.

COULD YOU PLEASE TURN THAT DOWN, YOUNG MAN?: Paul McCartney's millennium dome rehearsals are attracting complaints - from the other side of the Thames.

The hero of the story is "67 year-old" Eric Pemberton:
"I rang up the environmental health officers at the council and they told me 'It's Paul McCartney,'" Pemberton said. "I said 'So what? He doesn't pay my (taxes), and if it was me that was doing this I would have been prosecuted.' I thought it was quite unacceptable and even my cat was disturbed."

Before writing Pemberton off as an old fogey, it's worth remembering that he's only six years older than Macca.