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Metro
18-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Metro
Who came last in Eurovision 2025 as Austria secures victory for third time
The final leaderboard for the Eurovision Song Contest 2025 Grand Final has been confirmed following the Grand Final on Saturday night – including last place. This year's competition took place in Basel, Switzerland after Nemo's win with The Code in 2024. The likes of Denmark, Finland, Greece, Israel, Lithuania, Albania, Iceland, Portugal and Ukraine all booked their places in the Grand Final despite fierce competition. And we already know that the Big 5 have a pass to the final, as they contribute the most financially to the EBU. These countries are France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and the United Kingdom. But ultimately, it was Austria with their act, JJ, who claimed victory after a tense showdown. As for which country came in last place, the full leaderboard paints an enlightening picture. Despite our track record, the UK managed to avoid a losing placement. Instead, in last place was San Marino who was represented by Gabry Ponte who performed Tutta L'Italia. Gabry ended the night on a disappointed 27 points. Coming in penultimate place was Iceland – who were represented by Væb – an electronic music duo made up of brothers Hálfdán Helgi Matthíasson and Matthías Davíð Matthíasson – with their song Rao at a measly 33 points. Finally, in third-to-last place was Spain with contestant Melody singing Esa Diva and landing 37. As for the UK, Remember Monday came in 19th place (just one below Olly Alexander's 18th place in 2024) and, much like last year, received zero points from the public vote. The girl group performed their song What the Hell Just Happened with many fans commiserating their poor luck. Reflecting on the UK's depressing track record (with the exception of Sam Ryder who came second in 2022), Charlotte from the group told Metro before the final: 'I want us to be proud. Obviously we'd love some good numbers to come up but that's not something we can control. We just want to be proud of what we do on stage.' Meanwhile, Israel's Yuval Raphael came second despite widespread protests from those campaigning against the war in Palestine throughout the week. The final Eurovision leaderboard is decided by a combined score based onthe public and jury vote and countries cannot vote for their own entries. On Thursday night, we also got our first look at the production for the UK entrant with Remember Monday singing their tune, What The Hell Just Happened? The ultra-theatrical performance involved a collapsed chandelier, some killer harmonies, and outfits that served serious Powerpuff Girl energy, earning the trio – comprising Lauren Byrne, Holly-Anne Hull, and Charlotte Steele – applause and cheers. Remember Monday ended by hugging and framed inside a heart-shaped prop, although recreating their perfect performance didn't help in the final. At one point during the tense week of competition, Brugger said this is 'the biggest welcome home party that Eurovision has ever seen,' as the contest comes back to Switzerland, where it started more than six decades ago. And although this year's favourites were Sweden's act Kaj, who sailed through with ease thanks to their coordinated dance to their song Bara Bada Bastu (Just Sauna), they ended up in fourth place with 321 points. Their performance saw dancers acting as lumberjacks in a fake sauna wearing towels, while the Swedish-speaking singers, from Finland, were dressed in dark green suits. Close to them in the bookmakers' leaderboard were Austria and France, and although JJ eventually proved the bookies right, France's Louane came in seventh place with 230 points. Although some believed they had stiff competition from Eurovision underdog, Malta's entry, Miriana Conte, with her tune Serving, she actually ended up in 17th place. Originally titled Kant but renamed for obvious reasons, the tune warranted sultry choreography and, apparently, a giant pair of lips on stage, out of which Miriana, 24, arrived while two spread legs were displayed on the screen behind her. It's safe to say this week has had it all, from those shocking, raunchy numbers to protests against divisive entry Israel's rehearsals. There was also an emotional segment, as Eurovision viewers were given a sweet blast from the past when Canadian singer Celine Dion delivered a pre-recorded video message, having won the contest for Switzerland in 1988. More Trending The My Heart Will Go On hitmaker spoke in both French and English as she told viewers that the country 'has always held a special place in [her] heart'. Unfortunately despite high hopes that the powerhouse vocalist would appear on Saturday night – with organisers teasing they has been in contact with her team to arrange something special – she was a no show on the night. The original article was published on May 16 . View More » The Grand Final of Eurovision 2025 is available to stream on BBC iPlayer. Got a story? If you've got a celebrity story, video or pictures get in touch with the entertainment team by emailing us celebtips@ calling 020 3615 2145 or by visiting our Submit Stuff page – we'd love to hear from you. MORE: Remember Monday break silence on crushing Eurovision snub with emotional statement MORE: Eurovision viewers gutted as Celine Dion is no-show after days of teasing MORE: Graham Norton leaves Eurovision final viewers in stitches with 'brutal' Margaret Thatcher jibe
Scotsman
17-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Scotsman
Eurovision 2025: 15 songs this year that are already making money on streaming services
Analysts look over YouTube and Spotify data to determine who is making 'bank' ahead of the Eurovision Grand Final Sign up to our daily newsletter Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to Edinburgh News, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... The second Eurovision Song Contest semi-final is set to take place this evening (May 15 2025) The lucky 10 are set to join the winners of the first semi-final, the 'Big Five' and Switzerland at this year's Grand Final on May 17 2025. But there have been a number of songs that have already 'won,' by virtue of their streaming royalties alone. Who tops the list, and is this an indication what the results will be come the weekend? It's foolish to think that a Eurovision Song Contest entry can't translate into chart or, in the 21st century, streaming success. Ahead of this evening's second Eurovision semi-final, several acts are already seeing a healthy number of streams for their entries in the lead-up to this weekend's Grand Final at St Jakobshalle, Basel, Switzerland. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad It may seem like boasting, but thanks to CritiqueJeu, we can get a sense of who will be incredibly popular during the public vote on May 17, 2025, and, more importantly, which Eurovision song we'll be humming at work long after the extravaganza. So, which acts are 'making bank' before the Eurovision Song Contest grand final, and where does Remember Monday rank on the list? Methodology What 15 songs that are competing at Eurovision 2025 are doing huge numbers of streaming services this year? | Canva/EBU The researchers assessed the potential earnings of each of the 37 Eurovision 2025 entries by recording their Spotify play counts and main YouTube platform view counts as of May 13, 2025. Using estimated European royalty rates of €0.0039 per Spotify play and €0.0014 per YouTube view, they calculated the potential royalties for each song's authors and subsequently ranked the entries from highest to lowest estimated earnings. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad What Eurovision 2025 songs are making bank before the Grand Final? Topping the estimated earnings chart is Sweden's KAJ with Bara Bada Bastu, boasting an impressive combined stream count of over 51 million, translating to a potential author earning over €174,000 (£146,603.) They are followed closely by Italy's Lucio Corsi with Volevo essere un duro, whose strong Spotify performance pushes his estimated earnings to over €152,000 (£128,056) from nearly 40 million combined streams. The Netherlands' Claude with C'est La Vie sits in third place, with over 20 million combined streams potentially earning its authors over €67,000 (£56,446) while San Marino's energetic entry, Tutta L'Italia by Gabry Ponte, has also resonated, securing a spot in the top five with over 15 million combined streams and an estimated €59,000 (£49,706) in earnings. Rounding out the top five is Estonia's Tommy Cash with Espresso Macchiato, whose unique blend of rap and electro-swing has garnered over 18 million combined streams, potentially earning its creators over €58,000 (£48,863.) Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Those curious where the UK's entry, Remember Monday, placed on the list; they're not last by any means, but with 4,685,895 total streams, it leaves them in 22nd place. By no means a 'nul points' for the group. Eurovision 2025 Songs Making Bank - Top 15 (Estimated Author Earnings): What Eurovision songs, either from this year's selection or from previous years, do you find yourself returning to or adding to your streaming music playlists? Let us know by dropping a comment down below.
The Independent
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Independent
Estonia's Tommy Cash says Italians aren't in a froth over his Eurovision song ‘Espresso Macchiato'
One song generating a lot of froth at the Eurovision Song Contest is 'Espresso Macchiato,' a dance-pop ditty by Estonian rapper and visual artist Tommy Cash. Estonia's entry in the pan-continental pop competition, which holds its grand final on Saturday in Basel, Switzerland, is a playful dance-pop track that reels off a string of Italian cliches — including references to spaghetti and 'sweating like a mafioso' — before a singalong chorus: 'Espresso macchiato, macchiato, macchiato.' The song has some fans singing it in the streets of Basel. But it raised a few eyebrows in Italy, where a consumers' association branded it offensive and complained to Eurovision organizer the European Broadcasting Union. Cash said that he's seen media articles about a backlash, but 'I see only the love.' 'Everyone coming to me is like 'I'm from Italy, you're a legend there and we're so happy to have your song,'' he told The Associated Press on Friday amid rehearsals for the Eurovision final. Cash said that if U.S. singer Sabrina Carpenter can have a hit about espresso in her Grammy Award-winning 2024 hit of that name, he too should be able to sing about coffee. 'She should be singing about Big Gulps,' he joked. As Europeans, 'we're the OGs. (Coffee) originated from Italy. 'The thing is, coffee is for the world,' he said. 'Everyone can drink coffee. Americans, Europeans, and this brings us together.' Italian themes are in vogue at Eurovision this year — another competitor is Italian DJ Gabry Ponte, representing tiny San Marino with 'Tutta L'Italia.' Many Italians have embraced the cheery catchiness of 'Espresso Macchiato,' even though most would never dream of adding milk to espresso, widely considering macchiato a tourists' drink. 'We Italians are nice and we laugh at these things,' said Francesco Malferrari, enjoying an espresso — no milk — in a Rome cafe. 'Yes, there are some stereotypes, but we in Italy are used to it, so in reality we smile. 'But this year we have to root for Lucio Corsi,' the glam rocker who is Italy's Eurovision competitor. 'Because we are for Italy, so let's root for Lucio Corsi. But let's have an espresso and laugh it off.' ___ Dario Artale contributed to this story from this Rome.
Yahoo
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
The good, the bad and the raunchy: All 26 Eurovision songs, ranked from worst to first
Did you enjoy the papal conclave for its politicking, its gaudy hats and its general focus on peace and love, but think: 'Instead of picking a pope, I wish these cardinals would step into some cheetah-skin body suits and gyrate suggestively on an exercise ball in a debasing appeal for my vote?' We ask you, then, to fix your attention on Basel, Switzerland, where rainbow-colored smoke confirms that the Eurovision Song Contest is back after an all-too-long 12 months away. Eurovision is catty, competitive and eternally controversial. It's ridiculous, as seasoned fans will attest. It's also full of heart, and a showcase of jaw-plunging talent. And it's long. It's extremely long. Twenty-six countries will compete in a four-hour grand final, one of the defining events on the LGBTQ+ cultural calendar. We couldn't possibly ask you to make sense of it all yourself. So, your intrepid reporter – covering Eurovision for his seventh year – has crafted this utterly subjective ranking of every act taking the stage for the final. And we have help – from none other than last year's winner, Nemo, who won gold for their genre-busting pop-opera 'The Code.' This year's field is absolutely bursting with sex, energy, sex, emotional ballads and sex. 'It's a very horny year,' Nemo notes. 'I love that for all the performers.' Let's get into it. If Imagine Dragons are your idea of edgy rock, you'll find PARG only mildly uncool. PARG (and we're sorry for shouting, but he insists on all-caps) spends most of this performance topless on a treadmill, mostly in color, but sometimes – DRAMATICALLY – in black and white. He is, technically, a very handsome man, but there's something vaguely AI-generated about his whole aesthetic; if a rogue state funded a large language model and tasked Patrick Bateman with its development, PARG would be selected as the purest example of a human adult male. The song's terrible, by the way. Just 33,000 people live in San Marino, so adults fit enough to seductively rotate their hips face high odds of being conscripted. But usually, the nation will look to their Italian neighbors for help. 'We share a lot of art and culture,' Gabry Ponte, an Italian, tells CNN. And ladies and gentlemen, we have a chart-topper in our midst. Remember the infuriatingly addictive 1998 hit 'Blue (Da Ba Dee)?' That was this guy! Ponte, then of Eiffel 65, returns just 27 years later with 'Tutta L'Italia,' which talks – not at all reductively – about 'Spaghetti, wine, Our Father and the Mona Lisa.' I regret to inform you that the Brits, once again, have hope. No amount of merciless rejection can crush it. And here's the good news: The UK has a tendency to select melodically challenged competitors, but these girls can sing. The problem? It's a dreadful song. The staging is inexplicably dull. The change-of-pace chorus grows tiresome fast. Thematically, the whole thing is stuck in 2013, vapidly dissecting a party like the early hangover-pop of Kesha and Katy Perry. But times have changed. Kesha now makes empowered, critically acclaimed art-pop. Perry is a self-proclaimed authority on astrology and astronomy and the stars. This song is a lazy facsimile of a bygone era that doesn't treat Eurovision fans with the respect they deserve. Disaster is looming for Britain; they just don't realize it yet. No election can pass without controversy these days, and Portugal's success in the semi-final left even the most seasoned Eurovision fans nonplussed. This song is perfectly nice – it wouldn't be out of place on your Sunday morning playlist – but there's nothing in the staging that elevates it. 'The foundations of everything have already begun to rot,' Katarsis' vocalist screams. 'Your eyes see pain.' It's brooding. It's a little boring. Katarsis is clearly working through something, and that's great, but if Eurovision is a party, he is the contestant you don't really want to get caught in conversation with. Germany won't win Eurovision, but they do win CNN's coveted award for the competition's worst lyrics. 'I shoot holes into the night; stars fall and bang on my roof,' Abor & Tynna – a brother and sister duo – sing nonsensically. 'Chalk silhouettes on the sidewalk; A crime scene between us, like on 'CSI.'' Musically this is a sneaky banger, but the live performance doesn't elevate it. The biggest headaches facing organizers again revolve around Israel's participation, which is opposed by segments of the fanbase due to its ongoing war against Hamas in Gaza. Yuval Raphael survived the militant group's attack at the Nova music festival on October 7. She'll be singing to an arena in which Palestinian flags will be flying, after a rule change by the European Broadcasting Union (EBU); organizers will be hoping the performance passes without incident. This is the second consecutive Israeli ballad that makes implicit reference to Hamas' attacks, but on a musical level, it's the weaker of the pair. The so-called Big Five – the UK, Spain, Germany, France and Italy – qualify for the final automatically thanks to their financial contributions to the EBU. But if money can buy access, it doesn't guarantee points. Melody's staging is fabulous, and this song is a hot, chaotic mess (complimentary), but it's hard to see either jury or televoter falling for it. Diva down. Futuristic shout-pop pair VÆB bring energy – potentially a bit too much energy – and they'll likely be deployed by producers to shake TV viewers out of a ballad-induced slumber. But that's where their use ends. Nineteen-year-old Kyle Alessandro is an energetic performer. But the lyrics read like they've been put through Google Translate 16 times, which is some achievement, given that he's singing in English. Justyna Steczkowska returns to Eurovision 30 years after first representing Poland, and her performance is bewitching; she dangles above the stage, pulls off a series of demanding moves and even (pretends to) play the violin. But vocally, it's a touch on the screamy side. Two hugely positive trends stand out in this year's Eurovision field: the aforementioned raunchiness and the sheer number of songs sung in and inspired by national languages and cultures. Fewer tracks are in English this year; drab ballads laden with clunky metaphors still exist, but they're harder to find. Instead, we get interesting stuff like this: a six-woman fairy-inspired ethno-pop group melding Latvian folk imagery with an ethereal chant and an impeccably-rehearsed dance routine. It's bold and – full disclosure – it won't work for everyone. But it's exactly what Eurovision should be about. A haunting ballad about the emotional toll of displacement, which needs a few listens to truly appreciate. It's ambitious and personal, and Klavdia's vocals are top drawer. If Claude makes it onto the stage, he's already one-upped last year's Dutch entrant, Joost, who was disqualified moments before the show after an altercation, the details of which remain shrouded in mystery. Bouncing between English and French is a bit of a naked play to the juries, but this chorus is moreish and it's impeccably sung. Ukraine excels at Eurovision like nobody else. This song is bold – it might be the hardest entry to pin down musically. The costumes are pure glam rock, but even camper; the melodies zoom around and never end up quite where you'd expect. An acquired taste, but Nemo likes it: 'One of the most interesting (songs) musically – it's very daring, bold, but beautiful.' 'No stresso, no stresso, no need to be depresso,' Tommy Cash tells us with infuriating frivolity in a gimmicky spectacle that caricatures Italian coffee culture. The song caused a brief diplomatic incident, as Eurovision entries often do, with some in Italy bristling at the lazy stereotypes on show. But Tommy insists that what he's hearing is 'mostly love' and that somewhere around '0.2%' of Italians feel offended (he didn't share his methodology). 'I'm never depresso,' he tells CNN. But he concedes that 'sometimes, you can get stresso.' You won't want to like this song, but you probably will. This song was called 'Kant,' until the EBU – apparently not fans of the German philosopher's theory of transcendental idealism – forced it to change. Gen Z readers will know the slang phrase that Miriana Conte is alluding to anyway, and she lives up to it, strutting the stage in a furious cloud of girlbossery and diving into some impressive, Ariana Grande-esque vocal acrobatics. The arrangement is very 2015, and it's all a touch on the nose, but it mostly works. 'She has this amazing aura,' says Nemo. 'She owns it.' Denmark's long national nightmare is over. The competition's longest absence from the final (they last qualified in 2019) has been snapped by a fabulous, epic, searing ballad that deserves far more love than it's getting. It's good through headphones, but it's much better live. Sweden are Eurovision's perennial powerhouse; this year, they're represented by a Finnish three-piece who took the qualification process in their neighboring country by storm. 'We're gonna sauna, sauna, steam it up,' KAJ sing on a giant sauna set. And it's not an act – these guys really love the sauna. 'It's great for mental health, physical health, it's a great way to meet friends,' Jakob Norrgård tells CNN. 'I'm part of a sauna community,' adds Axel Åhman. 'You meet all kinds of people.' This song is the favorite and it's been endorsed by Finland's president – which is awkward, since the country has its own contestant. It's undeniably catchy, but we can't place it on the same pedestal as previous Swedish victors like ABBA and Loreen. At least it has a serious public health message. 'Everybody's welcome in our sauna. We could stay in there for hours, if it's a competition,' Norrgård says, before his tone shifts deadly serious. 'But you should never compete in the sauna. It's a bad idea.' A bouncy, fun and severely underrated twist on classic. This track from Laura Thorn (titled 'The Doll Turns Up The Sound' in English) is a playful riposte to Luxembourg's own 1965 Eurovision winner, 'Wax doll, rag doll,' retaking the agency that was lacking in the lyrics France Gall delivered six decades ago. It would be a crime if this didn't do well. If Lucio Corsi were representing a less chic nation, we'd assume he'd responded to the Swiss summer by overapplying his sunscreen. But he's Italian, so we're inclined to think his look is a nod to a Pierrot pantomime clown, a la an 'Ashes to Ashes' era David Bowie. Either way, it's a beautiful song (titled 'I Wanted to Be Tough' in English) that plays with themes of masculinity and self-image – and it's Nemo's favorite. 'It's too much under the radar – I don't get why people haven't clocked it yet,' they tell CNN. 'It really touches me.' The devil works hard, but Eurovision's publicists work harder. Per the biography distributed to media members, we learn that Louane 'is considered more than just an artist: She has been called a bridge between the personal and the universal.' Who's called her this? Did it just slip out naturally, after a couple of pints? What does it even mean? What matters is that France have once again found a gem, with a touching ballad dedicated to Louane's late mother. The nation has flirted with Eurovision success with recent entries like 'Voilà,' 'Mon amour,' 'J'ai cherché' and 'Mercy' (we get it, France, you're French). This could top them all. Countries never win back-to-back, which is a shame, because this is stunning. A gentle ballad by a Basel-born star – gorgeously sung and cinematically shot – this will stand out amid its chaotic competitors. 'The core of 'Voyage' is (about) spreading kindness,' Zoë Më tells CNN. 'I really believe in the song.' 'It's so emotionally captivating,' adds Nemo. If the title of Erika Vikman's romp 'Ich Komme' – German for 'I'm coming' – doesn't spell out the themes at play here, she's on hand to explain. 'The song is literally about an orgasm,' Vikman tells CNN. What are they putting in the water in Basel? Power, sexuality, female empowerment and expression are all explored in this randy and rambunctious number. A giant, pyro-spraying microphone hammers the message home. The classically-trained JJ boasts some stunning operatic vocals chords and the song plays to his strengths, climaxing in a truly thrilling cacophony. 'I had a pretty tough year, and I wanted to write about my personal experience with wasted, unreciprocated love,' he tells us. It's the best song at the competition. But here's the rub: Eurovision hates even a whiff of mimicry, and this song is far too similar to 'The Code.' It may still come out on top, but consecutive winners rarely sound this alike. Nemo, for his part, is diplomatic: 'I think it's such a nice thing for Eurovision artists to continue to inspire each other.' An intense bald gentleman and a songstress who looks to have dabbled in a cult or two form Eurovision's unlikeliest pairing. They sing about an oasis – 'There's no ambulance around the street, no one talks to you arrogantly' – clearly oblivious to the British bachelor parties that blight Tirana, Albania's capital. And they must be huge Eurovision fans, right? 'No, not at all,' Beatriçe Gjergji tells CNN. '(It's) not our type of music.' Frankly, their ambivalence is an asset: there is nothing else like this performance on offer, and they're getting deserved buzz from fans as a result. 'If you believe in the type of music you love, maybe something can happen,' Gjergji says.
CNN
16-05-2025
- Entertainment
- CNN
The good, the bad and the raunchy: Every song at Eurovision, ranked from worst to first
Did you enjoy the papal conclave for its politicking, its gaudy hats and its general focus on peace and love, but think: 'Instead of picking a pope, I wish these cardinals would step into some cheetah-skin body suits and gyrate suggestively on an exercise ball in a debasing appeal for my vote?' We ask you, then, to fix your attention on Basel, Switzerland, where rainbow-colored smoke confirms that the Eurovision Song Contest is back after an all-too-long 12 months away. Eurovision is catty, competitive and eternally controversial. It's ridiculous, as seasoned fans will attest. It's also full of heart, and a showcase of jaw-plunging talent. And it's long. It's extremely long. Twenty-six countries will compete in a four-hour grand final, one of the defining events on the LGBTQ+ cultural calendar. We couldn't possibly ask you to make sense of it all yourself. So, your intrepid reporter – covering Eurovision for his seventh year – has crafted this utterly subjective ranking of every act taking the stage for the final. And we have help – from none other than last year's winner, Nemo, who won gold for their genre-busting pop-opera 'The Code.' This year's field is absolutely bursting with sex, energy, sex, emotional ballads and sex. 'It's a very horny year,' Nemo notes. 'I love that for all the performers.' Let's get into it. If Imagine Dragons are your idea of edgy rock, you'll find PARG only mildly uncool. PARG (and we're sorry for shouting, but he insists on all-caps) spends most of this performance topless on a treadmill, mostly in color, but sometimes – DRAMATICALLY – in black and white. He is, technically, a very handsome man, but there's something vaguely AI-generated about his whole aesthetic; if a rogue state funded a large language model and tasked Patrick Bateman with its development, PARG would be selected as the purest example of a human adult male. The song's terrible, by the way. Just 33,000 people live in San Marino, so adults fit enough to seductively rotate their hips face high odds of being conscripted. But usually, the nation will look to their Italian neighbors for help. 'We share a lot of art and culture,' Gabry Ponte, an Italian, tells CNN. And ladies and gentlemen, we have a chart-topper in our midst. Remember the infuriatingly addictive 1998 hit 'Blue (Da Ba Dee)?' That was this guy! Ponte, then of Eiffel 65, returns just 27 years later with 'Tutta L'Italia,' which talks – not at all reductively – about 'Spaghetti, wine, Our Father and the Mona Lisa.' I regret to inform you that the Brits, once again, have hope. No amount of merciless rejection can crush it. And here's the good news: The UK has a tendency to select melodically challenged competitors, but these girls can sing. The problem? It's a dreadful song. The staging is inexplicably dull. The change-of-pace chorus grows tiresome fast. Thematically, the whole thing is stuck in 2013, vapidly dissecting a party like the early hangover-pop of Kesha and Katy Perry. But times have changed. Kesha now makes empowered, critically acclaimed art-pop. Perry is a self-proclaimed authority on astrology and astronomy and the stars. This song is a lazy facsimile of a bygone era that doesn't treat Eurovision fans with the respect they deserve. Disaster is looming for Britain; they just don't realize it yet. No election can pass without controversy these days, and Portugal's success in the semi-final left even the most seasoned Eurovision fans nonplussed. This song is perfectly nice – it wouldn't be out of place on your Sunday morning playlist – but there's nothing in the staging that elevates it. 'The foundations of everything have already begun to rot,' Katarsis' vocalist screams. 'Your eyes see pain.' It's brooding. It's a little boring. Katarsis is clearly working through something, and that's great, but if Eurovision is a party, he is the contestant you don't really want to get caught in conversation with. Germany won't win Eurovision, but they do win CNN's coveted award for the competition's worst lyrics. 'I shoot holes into the night; stars fall and bang on my roof,' Abor & Tynna – a brother and sister duo – sing nonsensically. 'Chalk silhouettes on the sidewalk; A crime scene between us, like on 'CSI.'' Musically this is a sneaky banger, but the live performance doesn't elevate it. The biggest headaches facing organizers again revolve around Israel's participation, which is opposed by segments of the fanbase due to its ongoing war against Hamas in Gaza. Yuval Raphael survived the militant group's attack at the Nova music festival on October 7. She'll be singing to an arena in which Palestinian flags will be flying, after a rule change by the European Broadcasting Union (EBU); organizers will be hoping the performance passes without incident. This is the second consecutive Israeli ballad that makes implicit reference to Hamas' attacks, but on a musical level, it's the weaker of the pair. The so-called Big Five – the UK, Spain, Germany, France and Italy – qualify for the final automatically thanks to their financial contributions to the EBU. But if money can buy access, it doesn't guarantee points. Melody's staging is fabulous, and this song is a hot, chaotic mess (complimentary), but it's hard to see either jury or televoter falling for it. Diva down. Futuristic shout-pop pair VÆB bring energy – potentially a bit too much energy – and they'll likely be deployed by producers to shake TV viewers out of a ballad-induced slumber. But that's where their use ends. Nineteen-year-old Kyle Alessandro is an energetic performer. But the lyrics read like they've been put through Google Translate 16 times, which is some achievement, given that he's singing in English. Justyna Steczkowska returns to Eurovision 30 years after first representing Poland, and her performance is bewitching; she dangles above the stage, pulls off a series of demanding moves and even (pretends to) play the violin. But vocally, it's a touch on the screamy side. Two hugely positive trends stand out in this year's Eurovision field: the aforementioned raunchiness and the sheer number of songs sung in and inspired by national languages and cultures. Fewer tracks are in English this year; drab ballads laden with clunky metaphors still exist, but they're harder to find. Instead, we get interesting stuff like this: a six-woman fairy-inspired ethno-pop group melding Latvian folk imagery with an ethereal chant and an impeccably-rehearsed dance routine. It's bold and – full disclosure – it won't work for everyone. But it's exactly what Eurovision should be about. A haunting ballad about the emotional toll of displacement, which needs a few listens to truly appreciate. It's ambitious and personal, and Klavdia's vocals are top drawer. If Claude makes it onto the stage, he's already one-upped last year's Dutch entrant, Joost, who was disqualified moments before the show after an altercation, the details of which remain shrouded in mystery. Bouncing between English and French is a bit of a naked play to the juries, but this chorus is moreish and it's impeccably sung. Ukraine excels at Eurovision like nobody else. This song is bold – it might be the hardest entry to pin down musically. The costumes are pure glam rock, but even camper; the melodies zoom around and never end up quite where you'd expect. An acquired taste, but Nemo likes it: 'One of the most interesting (songs) musically – it's very daring, bold, but beautiful.' 'No stresso, no stresso, no need to be depresso,' Tommy Cash tells us with infuriating frivolity in a gimmicky spectacle that caricatures Italian coffee culture. The song caused a brief diplomatic incident, as Eurovision entries often do, with some in Italy bristling at the lazy stereotypes on show. But Tommy insists that what he's hearing is 'mostly love' and that somewhere around '0.2%' of Italians feel offended (he didn't share his methodology). 'I'm never depresso,' he tells CNN. But he concedes that 'sometimes, you can get stresso.' You won't want to like this song, but you probably will. This song was called 'Kant,' until the EBU – apparently not fans of the German philosopher's theory of transcendental idealism – forced it to change. Gen Z readers will know the slang phrase that Miriana Conte is alluding to anyway, and she lives up to it, strutting the stage in a furious cloud of girlbossery and diving into some impressive, Ariana Grande-esque vocal acrobatics. The arrangement is very 2015, and it's all a touch on the nose, but it mostly works. 'She has this amazing aura,' says Nemo. 'She owns it.' Denmark's long national nightmare is over. The competition's longest absence from the final (they last qualified in 2019) has been snapped by a fabulous, epic, searing ballad that deserves far more love than it's getting. It's good through headphones, but it's much better live. Sweden are Eurovision's perennial powerhouse; this year, they're represented by a Finnish three-piece who took the qualification process in their neighboring country by storm. 'We're gonna sauna, sauna, steam it up,' KAJ sing on a giant sauna set. And it's not an act – these guys really love the sauna. 'It's great for mental health, physical health, it's a great way to meet friends,' Jakob Norrgård tells CNN. 'I'm part of a sauna community,' adds Axel Åhman. 'You meet all kinds of people.' This song is the favorite and it's been endorsed by Finland's president – which is awkward, since the country has its own contestant. It's undeniably catchy, but we can't place it on the same pedestal as previous Swedish victors like ABBA and Loreen. At least it has a serious public health message. 'Everybody's welcome in our sauna. We could stay in there for hours, if it's a competition,' Norrgård says, before his tone shifts deadly serious. 'But you should never compete in the sauna. It's a bad idea.' A bouncy, fun and severely underrated twist on classic. This track from Laura Thorn (titled 'The Doll Turns Up The Sound' in English) is a playful riposte to Luxembourg's own 1965 Eurovision winner, 'Wax doll, rag doll,' retaking the agency that was lacking in the lyrics France Gall delivered six decades ago. It would be a crime if this didn't do well. If Lucio Corsi were representing a less chic nation, we'd assume he'd responded to the Swiss summer by overapplying his sunscreen. But he's Italian, so we're inclined to think his look is a nod to a Pierrot pantomime clown, a la an 'Ashes to Ashes' era David Bowie. Either way, it's a beautiful song (titled 'I Wanted to Be Tough' in English) that plays with themes of masculinity and self-image – and it's Nemo's favorite. 'It's too much under the radar – I don't get why people haven't clocked it yet,' they tell CNN. 'It really touches me.' The devil works hard, but Eurovision's publicists work harder. Per the biography distributed to media members, we learn that Louane 'is considered more than just an artist: She has been called a bridge between the personal and the universal.' Who's called her this? Did it just slip out naturally, after a couple of pints? What does it even mean? What matters is that France have once again found a gem, with a touching ballad dedicated to Louane's late mother. The nation has flirted with Eurovision success with recent entries like 'Voilà,' 'Mon amour,' 'J'ai cherché' and 'Mercy' (we get it, France, you're French). This could top them all. Countries never win back-to-back, which is a shame, because this is stunning. A gentle ballad by a Basel-born star – gorgeously sung and cinematically shot – this will stand out amid its chaotic competitors. 'The core of 'Voyage' is (about) spreading kindness,' Zoë Më tells CNN. 'I really believe in the song.' 'It's so emotionally captivating,' adds Nemo. If the title of Erika Vikman's romp 'Ich Komme' – German for 'I'm coming' – doesn't spell out the themes at play here, she's on hand to explain. 'The song is literally about an orgasm,' Vikman tells CNN. What are they putting in the water in Basel? Power, sexuality, female empowerment and expression are all explored in this randy and rambunctious number. A giant, pyro-spraying microphone hammers the message home. The classically-trained JJ boasts some stunning operatic vocals chords and the song plays to his strengths, climaxing in a truly thrilling cacophony. 'I had a pretty tough year, and I wanted to write about my personal experience with wasted, unreciprocated love,' he tells us. It's the best song at the competition. But here's the rub: Eurovision hates even a whiff of mimicry, and this song is far too similar to 'The Code.' It may still come out on top, but consecutive winners rarely sound this alike. Nemo, for his part, is diplomatic: 'I think it's such a nice thing for Eurovision artists to continue to inspire each other.' An intense bald gentleman and a songstress who looks to have dabbled in a cult or two form Eurovision's unlikeliest pairing. They sing about an oasis – 'There's no ambulance around the street, no one talks to you arrogantly' – clearly oblivious to the British bachelor parties that blight Tirana, Albania's capital. And they must be huge Eurovision fans, right? 'No, not at all,' Beatriçe Gjergji tells CNN. '(It's) not our type of music.' Frankly, their ambivalence is an asset: there is nothing else like this performance on offer, and they're getting deserved buzz from fans as a result. 'If you believe in the type of music you love, maybe something can happen,' Gjergji says.
