My guilty pleasure? Flying the Flag by Scooch—Eurovision at its most gloriously ridiculous. Picture it: a group of over-enthusiastic flight attendants thrusting safety cards, handing out imaginary cocktails, and serving sass at 30,000 feet. It’s less “musical performance” and more “budget airline fever dream,” and I love every second of it.
The lyrics are packed with innuendo so obvious they might as well come with a duty-free warning label. The choreography? Equal parts aerobics class and safety demonstration gone rogue. It’s the kind of performance that makes you laugh, cringe, and secretly cheer at the same time.
Why is it my guilty pleasure? Because it’s campy nonsense, and it knows it. Watching Scooch strut around the stage pretending to land a plane with jazz hands is pure escapism. It reminds me that music doesn’t always have to be deep or cool—it can just be silly, sparkly fun.
Sure, it didn’t exactly win Eurovision glory, but for me, it takes off every single time. And while I might never actually want these people flying my plane, I’ll happily let them fly the flag for guilty pleasures forever.