Is Guy Sebastian The Right Choice For Eurovision?

When iconic pop outfit ABBA took out the title of Eurovision Song Contest champions way back in 1974, the annual competition underwent a transformative experience: where tasteful, restrained pop had largely dominated proceedings since its inception in 1956, ABBA's victory ushered in a new era for Eurovision, defined by spectacle and sequins and light-up jackets and other wonderfully inane extravagance.

It's this philosophy that enabled acts such as Finnish heavy metal band Lordi to claim the prize back in 2006, or Romanian act Cezar from belting out It's My Life in 2013 while dressed like Dracula and flanked almost-nude back-up dancers dodging fireworks. It's an unashamed celebration of all things weird and wacky and wonderful, a so-bad-it's-good soiree of the desperately crazy and crazily desperate, all equally pumped about the prospect of walking away having been crowned The Very Best.

Throughout it's colourful history, the odd Australian has managed to weasel their way into the competition as a representative for another country — Olivia Newton-John, Gina G, the line-up of the New Seekers that featured some Aussies — but this is our first chance to hit the stage in an official capacity, and — from TISM to Client Liaison and Megan Washington — the names in the hat were diverse, wonderful, eclectic, off-centre; everything Eurovision is and should be.

Enter Guy Sebastian.

Sebastian, who most people will remember as the winner of the inaugural series of Australian Idol and not much else, is an odd choice to send to Eurovision on Australia's behalf, not because he's a poor choice for the country, but because he's a poor choice for the competition. He falls squarely into the former majority of competitors who believe that the whole lunacy aspect of the competition is gaudy and gauche; that a nice suit and inoffensive power ballads should be the only way to assure any kind of notability among the participating ranks.

First off, he's no fun. At all. He's already told ABC News: "I'm not going to wear a dress."

Well, why the hell not, Guy? What's wrong with wearing a dress? You could look glamorous and sophisticated, and prove that you can walk that SNAG talk you've been touting for the past 15 years.

In addition, when it comes to Eurovision, the entire affair is as much about the song choice as it is the person or band performing it, so it's a little concerning that Sebastian seems so lackadaisical about what he'll likely sing when he squanders our one shot at Eurovision glory later this year:

"I'm not sure about the song yet," he told the ABC. "That is still being worked out. I know that I can't sing something that has been released prior to September, so it doesn't leave me with a lot."

Leaving aside the fact that Sebastian is essentially blaming his own lack of prolificness for not having a wide variety of material to choose from, he still seems overly blase about the decision that awaits him.

"Luckily enough, I released my album in November … which narrows it down a little bit, or I could write something in the next few days."

Seriously, he's so up in the air about it that, at this stage, he's just throwing out unrelated words and talking about maybe pissing out a song if he absolutely has to, all in the hopes that it might sound like he has something approaching an idea of what the hell he is going to do when he gets up there.

"I want it to represent us as a nation well but also just be fun or be emotional," Sebastian said. "Either super-fun, or like a big ballad or something that showcases my voice."

Firstly, super-fun material doesn't have to be mutually exclusive with being vocally impressive. Those aren't incompatible aspects of a performance, though the fact that Sebastian apparently thinks you can't have fun while singing well does go a very long way towards explaining the atmosphere at his concerts.

And, secondly, it's a little flippant of Sebastian to be talking about wanting to do something "fun" when he's already categorically ruled himself as being above a little bit of kitsch costuming. How much "super-fun" can someone really have when they still have a functioning sense of shame despite competing in World Idol?

Which brings me to Australians themselves: do we really want Guy Sebastian representing the nation when his admissible selection of tracks comes from an album that is sincerely filed under "adult contemporary"? A man whose greatest achievement from winning a talent show was to become a judge on another talent show? Truly, his selection for Eurovision is a damning statement on the country's music industry and its consumers. Shit, could you imagine if word got out that Like A Drum was in the running for Song Of The Year because this was one of the nation's highest-selling singles? We'd be laughed off the stage and wouldn't even have the outrageous dress to warrant it.

No — Sebastian was absolutely the right choice for World Idol all those years ago, even if the best result he could manage was seventh place. No contention there. In that setting, he shone as a beacon of Australia's contribution to radio filler, and more power to him. But here, in the realm of iconic, unforgettable stage stars such as the transphobia-beating Conchita Wurst and stereotype-obliterating Lordi, he's nothing more than vanilla slice in a gourmet dessert store.