Eurovision '74 and a Reflection on Popular Music Culture

[Slim]

It's not often I know what I was doing 50 years ago exactly, but half a century ago exactly I was watching Eurovision '74 with my mum and my little brother, as we had done for years. Certainly since Sandie Shaw won in 1967.

The UK was represented by Olivia Newton John, but I was so blown away by the Swedish entry - Waterloo of course - that as soon as they'd appeared, I was rooting for them to win. Which of course they did.

Shamefully, the UK jury did not award any points to Sweden.

ABBA released a new album a few years ago and it was huge news in the popular music world. Only two years ago the ABBA virtual reality concert experience opened in London and it's still a huge money spinner. The trailer for it on YouTube got more than four million views.

The BBC have shown the entire 1974 Eurovision show tonight I believe, originally broadcast from Brighton and introduced by David Vine. I didn't watch it because I've just got back from a birthday party at a club in Ibstock. The DJ played Queen's Don't Stop Me Now toward the end of the evening and two girls in their 20s were dancing their hearts out to it - and what's more they sang along to every word. Yet it's a tune that charted in the '70s.

Imagine music from the 1920s being so current in the 1970s. Kids dancing to it at parties, concert halls selling out tickets for it. It's impossible, isn't it? What happened to popular music culture; why has it stopped dead in its tracks and stagnated for decades?

[Slim]

Just watched the first couple of minutes of this video, published 45 minutes ago. Nirvana, a band that ceased to exist 30 years ago last week, get over 30 million monthly listeners on Spotify. The Police, who put out their last record 41 years ago, get 29 million listeners a month. Queen's last record came out in 1995, Freddie had already been dead a few years of course. They get more than 50 million monthly listeners.

This might come across as a bit of an odd reflection but - in an odd way I think this strange permanence of the music and other cultural elements that I grew up with is helping to prevent me from realising how old I am. Sometimes I entertain thought experiments to contemplate my age. I imagine, for example, that on the day I first saw Rush, a man my present age was strolling past Newcastle City Hall. He'd have been born in the later part of 1913. Might have served during the Second World War. Wouldn't have had an interest in pop music or rock music at all, I suspect. Would have been alienated by Elvis Presley and Little Richard in the '50s. I think he'd have seemed very old to me, but that's who I am.