The line-up for the Eurovision 2025 grand final is now complete, and Ireland will sadly not be part of it.
This is where I mention that we don’t have the best qualification record. Since the semi-finals were introduced, we have failed to qualify 12 times and got through just seven times, including last year’s glorious return to form with Bambie Thug.
Emmy and the delegation from RTÉ will not be having a party in the sky in Basle on Saturday night, but a pity party at the airport. Poor Marty Whelan is distraught and not a little fed up.
It’s all a bit of a bam-bam / ba-ra ram-bam bam-bam bam-bam.
Still, it’s not the end of the world. All’s fair in love and Eurovision, that’s what I say – I’m not a fan of the post-mortem phase. And at least it’s not a long-haul flight of misery home, like it is for Australia.
Now, is anyone having a Eurovision party on Saturday night? I believe I’m free.
And the qualifiers are...
- Lithuania!
- Israel!
- Armenia!
- Denmark!
- Austria!
- Luxembourg!
- Finland!
- Latvia!
- Malta!
- Greece!
That, I’m afraid, means Ireland has been knocked out before the grand final.
We also say au revoir to Australia, Georgia, Czechia, Serbia and Montenegro.
Where were we? Ah yes, still in Basle, Switzerland. Well, spiritually.
“What is the point of this?” asks Marty Whelan. Look, it’s a nice break from worrying about Donald Trump for a couple of hours.
Voting has closed and the votes have been counted. Confirmation of a valid result has arrived with the magic words “good to go”.
And that’s it, we’re done. For the sake of my circulation, I’ll be taking a short break during this interval, the meat of which will see the return of “lost” Eurovision acts from 2020, when the song contest was cancelled thanks to the pandemic.
Destiny (Malta), Efendi (Azerbaijan), The Roop (Lithuania) and Gjon’s Tears (Switzerland) will all be performing in between filler items and song recaps.
As you will know if you watched the first semi-final, the qualifiers will be revealed later via a new split-screen approach, which will see three countries on screen but only one announced as having gone through to the final.
But it doesn’t mean the two others definitely haven’t. Their doom will only become apparent when there’s seven still-unqualified countries and just one of them is selected at the death.
And, finally, we wrap up the competitive proceedings tonight with the 16th and final contender, Erika Vikman, who is here for Finland to sing Ich Komme.
This slightly charmless empowerment-banger is sung – well, blasted out – in Finnish with some helpful German inserts.
Sample lyric (partially translated): “Baby, Ich komme, Ich komme / Over and over, scream it for me / Ich komme, Ich komme / Surrender, yelling / Ich komme, Ich komme, Ich komme / We will get there together.”
Yes, you can see what she’s aiming for here. I mean, apart from qualification for the grand final, which is probably in the bag.
Serbia is next, and they’ve used what’s left of the dry ice as they introduce us to Princ, his dancer friends and his Balkan power-ballad Mila.
Sample lyric: “Let this be for me / The last supper / Let the hound of Hades / Chase me into the night.”
It’s a dark night of the soul, this, for Princ, but it’s all very emotionally stirring as he is dragged along the stage by his tortured dancer friends.
Would it shock you to learn that Princ was once cast in the lead role of a Serbian production of Jesus Christ Superstar? No, it would not.
We return once more to the Big Five, with Germany’s Abor & Tynna introducing us to their song Baller. Well, I say Germany’s Abor & Tynna, but this pair are siblings from Austria.
Sample lyric (translated): “I see the shards of stars, on my skin like glitter / I’ve learned what doesn’t kill me only makes me prettier.”
In Germany, “baller” is slang for a song that “slaps”, apparently, and this does, indeed, slap. It’s a fantastic dance-pop effort that manages to pack a lot into three minutes without overplaying its hand, which is what all good Eurovision songs do.
Great work, Germany. We can’t vote for you tonight, but your contribution to proceedings has been wunderbar nevertheless.
Time for security to go on high alert now, as Israeli entrant Yuval Raphael takes to the stage. She is singing New Day Will Rise, with lyrics in English, French and Hebrew.
As I mentioned earlier, she is a survivor of the Hamas attacks on the Nova music festival on October 7th, 2023.
Sample lyric: “And even if you say goodbye / You’ll never go away / You are the rainbow of my sky / My colours in the grey.”
The entry has been given a sombre power-ballad presentation in front of a beaded curtain that surrounds a spiral staircase, and there’s a quiet piano accompaniment to contrast with the soaring vocals.
Luxembourg are back! Again!
Luxembourg ended the longest huff in Eurovision history in 2024, returning to the contest for the first time since finishing in 20th place in Millstreet in 1993.
They qualified for the final last year with the fabulous Tali, but can they do so again tonight, courtesy of Laura Thorn and La Poupée Monte Le Son? I hope so.
Sample lyric (translated): “If you think a man like you can manipulate me / Go back to mummy, you’d better give up / Or else I’m the one who will dismantle you.”
Strong words here, and this is a strong performance, with Laura segueing from puppet choreography to taking-control moves.
Extra marks for channelling the title of France Gall’s Poupée De Cire, Poupée De Son, which won for Luxembourg in 1965.
Next up it’s Czechia, who have sent champion street dancer Adonxs to sing Kiss Kiss Goodbye.
Adonxs, of course, is named after Adonis, the Greek god of rebirth, beauty, youth and some other stuff – he had quite a wide ministerial portfolio in his day.
Sample lyric: “Blow me a kiss goodbye / See how my tears run dry / One kiss of love / Won’t feel the same tonight.”
There’s a dance break showcasing his skills, but it’s all too brief. Marks must also be subtracted for reminding me of Kiss Kiss by Holly Valance.
Onto the 11th of 16 songs in competition tonight and it’s Denmark’s Sissal singing vaguely euphoric dance number Hallucination.
Sample lyric: “My vision’s blurry / But I can see clearly / Baby, I’m losing control / You’re my hallucination.”
During my aforementioned visit to the optometrists, I was told my eyes were dry, which explains my own blurry vision and any typos you see tonight. My point is I’m feeling a lot of empathy with Sissal.
Still, this Danish rave-pop might be the wrong side of generic to make an impact with voters.
We go to the second of our “Big Five” pre-qualifers tonight and say bonsoir to Louane, representing France. Her song Maman is about her grief for her mother, who died in 2014.
Sample lyric (translated): “I’m done walking down this memory lane / Guess the time is right, I’m moving on / Now I am the one she calls maman / Maman, maman, maman, maman.”
The song goes on to explore Louane’s own transition into motherhood.
It’s another decent if typically earnest French number that should do well with Saturday night’s juries, while failing to fully win over the public.
To Georgia now, and Mariam Shengelia, who will be singing Freedom, a song about her homeland. Yes, there will be a costume change.
Sample lyric (translated): “We will never give up this sky and mountains / Like the scent of grass / The dew of the sky, the pure spring / The thirst for freedom / Carried in the heart by the homeland.”
Mariam has form when it comes to semi-finals. She previously reached the semi-finals of The X Factor Georgia and The Voice Georgia. Can she make the final of Eurovision?
The heart says no, and the head also says no.
Good evening, Malta. One of the hot favourites, Miriana Conte, is here with a pair of massive red lips. To be clear, this is part of the staging. Tonight, she will be Serving.
Sample lyric: “Only lovers, no enemies / Feel around me, queen energy.”
It’s all very bouncy and vibrant. I don’t disapprove of this Maltese queen energy.
Originally, this song was called Kant, which means “singing” in Maltese, with Conte telling us all about how she would be “serving kant”.
However, the spoilsports at the EBU vetoed that on the grounds that it sounds like the English word c**t.
A “shocked and disappointed” Conte and her co-writers duly reworked the song, no doubt reeling from the extra publicity this cruel censorship gave their entry.
Lithuania have arrived, and it’s time, if not for some catharsis, then some Katarsis, an “experimental rock band” here with the song Tavo Akys.
Sample lyric (translated): “Your eyes see pain / For my eyes, it only gives a feeling.”
To be fair, I think something has got lost in the translation there. Still, my eyes do see pain, Katarsis. That much is literally true.
They also see some drab blue space-prison outfits, much pretend instrument-playing and distinctively emo-esque windswept hair. Next!
Back to the merciful relief of the competition proper now courtesy of Greece’s Klavdia and her classy slice of Grecian wailing, otherwise known as Asteromáta.
Sample lyric (translated): “My sweet mother, do not weep / Though they dress you in mourning black / This faded, weary body of mine / No flame can ever crack.”
Those are excellent glasses, Klavdia’s got on, aren’t they? I’m paying new attention to glasses because I’ve just got a prescription for some reading ones.
Was it studying the lyrics of all 37 Eurovision entries that killed my eyesight? Probably.
Anyway, I’m too young* to remember Nana Mouskouri, who Marty mentions, but I think Klavdia has got a certain something.
*Not true.
We take a break from the competition proper now to have a gander at the “pre-qualified” nation known to an older generation of Eurovision watcher (and indeed French speakers) as Le Royaume-Uni.
Yes, it’s the United Kingdom, whose valiant representatives this year are trio Remember Monday with their song What the Hell Just Happened?
Every time I see a clip of this song, “what the hell just happened?” is the only lyric featured, because that’s pretty much the extent of the chorus. But there are others.
Sample lyric: “Someone lost a shoe / I’m still in last night’s make-up / I’m waking up like, ‘What’s this new tattoo?’”
I want to put it on record that Remember Monday is one of the most rubbish names for a band I’ve ever heard, and I’ve heard many. Who wants to remember Monday? No one.
No good can come of remembering Monday, and I’m afraid no good can come of this UK entry – it’s a hotchpotch of various musical genres that goes nowhere and makes me hate all of those genres while it does.
The ladies, styled halfway between Bridgerton and The Last Dinner Party, can certainly harmonise, but they’re missing a decent melody.
For those with a more favourable impression, Remember Monday are playing a gig at The Academy in Dublin in October. It’s on a Friday.
Time to get serious now, as signified by the fact that we have suddenly gone black-and-white. One of the favourites for the entire competition, Austria, has entered the chat.
Austria is represented by JJ, aka Johannes Pietsch, and his song Wasted Love. JJ is picking up where Switzerland’s Nemo left off last year – with a great deal of falsetto.
Sample lyric: “You left me in the deep end / I’m drowning in my feelings / How do you not see that?”
Wasted Love is all about unrequited love. Are these two concepts the same? Surely no experience is wasted, and it is better to have loved into a void of indifference than never to have loved at all?
Either way, I don’t think declaring to someone that you’re drowning in your feelings, and wondering why they just can’t see that, is the best strategy for winning them over.
This is co-written by Teya – who represented Austria as part of Teya & Salena in Liverpool two years ago with the fantastic Who the Hell is Edgar? – and that might explain why the operatic vibe evolves into a livelier dance outro.
I’m just not sure JJ’s makeshift boat is seaworthy, to be honest.
Parg is here to represent Armenia with the song Survivor, which is styled as SURVIVOR just in case anyone missed the message.
Unfortunately, his shirt – like Go-Jo’s earlier - did not survive.
There’s Irish interest once again here, as one of the nine co-writers of this song is Irish-Czech singer-songwriter Joshua Curran (20), who was born in Prague to a Czech mother and Irish father. He has attributed his childhood Eurovision-watching to his father’s influence.
Sample lyric: “I’m sick of the news / I’m sick of the views / I’m sick of the lies they’ve told.”
Put your phone down Parg, it’s not going to help.
Onto song four now and it’s the turn of Latvian “ethno-pop” girl group Tautumeitas with Bur Man Laimi, meaning A Chant for Happiness. This is first song entirely in Latvian to be performed at Eurovision since 2004.
Sample lyric (translated): “I didn’t know my own happiness / Until I met my misery.”
The song, then, takes the view that only by enduring hardship can we know true joy – a metaphor for the Eurovision experience if ever there was one.
I’m almost sure I’ve heard this music before – it sounds exactly like the soundtrack to a heavy-rotation advertisement for a holiday destination I can’t afford. But I’ll forgive it: Bur Man Laimi is indeed extremely pleasant and I wish these personable Baltic chanters well.
It’s time for Ireland and Emmy’s tale of space-race canine cruelty, reinvented as wistful fantasy Laika Party.
Emmy is here in her space armour and silver skater skirt and there’s a fetching pink and turquoise colour scheme on the cosmic graphics.
Sample lyric: “I hope Laika never died and that she spins around us still / And that she has a party in the air and always will / I hope that she is dancing every night among the stars / I hope Laika is alive.”
Laika Party – which, of course, will land as “like a party” to anyone not paying attention to the verses – has lots of wonderful things going for it, not least the yearning Nineties dance vibe, and the impressively robotic presence of Emmy’s brother and co-writer Erlend, who we see stomping about behind the keyboards.
The song is more arch melancholic bop than sad banger, and all the better for that, but I’m not sure it was the right decision to place Emmy up on top of the rocket platform. She seems a bit isolated up there – a bit like Laika herself, perhaps.
Montenegro, our second act tonight, is represented by Nina Zizic and her song Dobrodosli, which means “welcome”.
Sample lyric (translated): “It’ll pass, put a smile on your face, endure it all / It’ll disappear, it’ll be gone. Yeah, but when?”
This announces itself like a Montenegrin Bond theme, but this is a heartfelt ballad about some very un-Bond-like concerns: the vulnerabilities, inner demons and ultimate resilience of women.
It’s an ode to a coping technique some reluctant Eurovision viewers may be trying right now – smiling through the pain.
Nina, who is blending into the dry ice and emoting for her life, has a fabulously blooming white outfit – it’s like she’s half-woman, half-flower. Still, you wouldn’t want to be sitting behind her at the theatre.
It’s time for the first of 16 songs tonight, and in their wisdom, the producers have decided to let the visitors, aka EBU associate member Australia, go first.
Alas, Australia has flown all this way with a complete abomination thanks to Go-Jo, aka Australian-French musician Marty Zambotto, and his song Milkshake Man. They drink his milk all across the land, apparently.
Sample lyric: “Well, I’ve got chocolate, vanilla and lactose free / And a caramel banana that you have got to see.”
While he tells us all about his caramel banana, Go-Jo climbs into a giant blender for a costume change, then he makes the audience sing “yum, yum” – which this is not.
Cool songs that use milkshakes as a metaphor for sexy stuff, a list.
- Milkshake by Kelis.
- End of list.
Ready for take-off?
The show commences, as is customary, with the EBU’s familiar theme, the prelude to Charpentier’s Te Deum, and then we’re live from St Jakobshalle in Basle.
A man has delivered Eurovision’s heart-shaped logo, with a Swiss cross in the centre, just in time for the show to begin. A reminder that Ireland is up third.
Our hosts tonight are comedian and presenter Hazel Brugger, who I personally find hilarious, and presenter, singer and former Eurovision participant Sandra Studer, aka the Swiss Courteney Cox.
They arrive on stage looking shiny and resplendent in some disc-themed outlets – a look I plan to channel at the next Irish Times editorial meeting.
Trying to vote for your own country is like trying to tickle yourself, says Hazel. She knows, she’s tried.
Have you tried? I recommend having a go to pass the time somewhere around Song Eight.
Whether Ireland qualifies or doesn’t qualify tonight, it will have little to do either way with the fact that Emmy and most of the songwriting team are Norwegian. (Larissa Tormey, one of the writers, is a Russian-born songwriter based in Westmeath.)
Ringers have long been part and parcel of Eurovision. Despite being victorious for Switzerland, Celine Dion is, of course, French-Canadian.
Even Sweden, which boasts no short supply of pop performers, songwriters and producers, has lately got in on the act. They were represented last year by Norwegian twins Marcus & Martinus, while on Saturday night they will have Kaj, a group of Swedish-speaking Finns, doing the supremely catchy honours.
The work of another Irish songwriter, Joshua Curran, will feature tonight. He’s one of the co-writers of Armenia’s entry.
Emmy’s selection as Ireland’s representative, meanwhile, can be seen as the return leg of a 30-year cultural exchange between Ireland and Norway.
In 1995, when the contest was held in Dublin – as it invariably was in the 1990s – Norway won with the song Nocturne. This was performed by the group Secret Garden, one of the key members of which was Irish violinist Fionnuala Sherry.
None of this has prevented a raft of nationality questions being fired at Emmy all week.
Ireland’s entry Laika Party is a three-minute manifestation of wishful thinking written by Emmy Kristine Guttulsrud Kristiansen (aka Emmy), her brother Erlend Guttulsrud Kristiansen, Henrik Østlund, Larissa Tormey and Truls Marius Aarra.
Poor Laika was the stray mongrel plucked from the streets of Moscow to become an experimental cosmonaut in the years before the first humans ventured off-planet.
She was not the first animal in space, but she was the first to orbit Earth. She has been the inspiration for several musicians over the years.
When I was growing up, her image featured prominently in whatever Dorling Kindersley book on space governed the limits of my knowledge of the universe. Some details will have been glossed over in that volume, or simply not known about at the time.
After months of tests, Laika was placed into a spacesuit with in-built metal restraints, attached to the cramped interior of the Sputnik 2 spacecraft in November 1957 and sent into orbit. She was always expected to die.
The official line for decades was that she survived for days before running out of oxygen – a fate spun by the Soviets as painless.
What actually happened, it was finally confirmed in the 1990s, was that she died of overheating and stress within hours of launch when the temperature inside Sputnik 2 reached more than 90 degrees after its fourth orbit.
Although the narrator of this dream-like song wants to imagine that Laika is not afraid to be “alone in the dark, big space”, declassified Soviet Union data shows her heartbeat rocketed to triple the normal rate, while her breathing rate quadrupled.
I worry Laika Party could prove too clever for its own good. I’ve seen some commentary that hasn’t got the tone of this at all, taking it at face value and portraying it as a “fake” version of events.
In essence, Laika Party is narrated by someone who invents an alternative story because the harsh reality is too much to countenance. She hopes Laika is alive precisely because she knows that’s not how this went.
There was no party in the sky, only a lonely, painful fate.
Laika Party, ultimately a tribute to Laika, is a song with a story, a melody and an innately Eurovision feel that somehow avoids being too self-conscious. As such, it’s my favourite Irish entry in years – this fact alone might doom it.
As mentioned, the Eurovision Song Contest – or the ESC as you may hear it referred to tonight – is organised by the EBU, which is handily headquartered in Geneva, about three hours’ drive south of Basle*.
The EBU’s director general is former RTÉ boss Noel Curran, who executive-produced the 1997 song contest held at Dublin’s Point Theatre.
The EBU is an alliance of public service media organisations that draws its members from what’s known as the European Broadcasting Area. This doesn’t totally align with what we think of as “Europe” – hence the long-standing but increasingly controversial inclusion of Israel.
It also has associate members around the world, including in Australia, which made its Eurovision debut 10 years ago.
While the EBU was founded in 1950, the Eurovision Song Contest – based on an Italian song contest held in Sanremo – began six years later. Only seven countries participated in the inaugural 1956 affair, with each country doing two songs. Now just imagine if that was the case tonight…
The first song contest was held in Lugano, Switzerland, and was won by the hosts. Its entrant, Lys Assia, sang both Swiss songs on the night – one in German, one in French – and won with her second one, Refrain (in French).
It then took Switzerland 32 years to clock up its second victory, and a further 36 years’ of hurt to get its third win in Sweden last year, courtesy of Nemo’s The Code.
But I’ve skipped over something. Who was it who triumphed for the Swiss when the contest was held in Dublin in 1988?
Hold me now, it was only a little-known singer by the name of Celine Dion.
*The event is officially known as Basel 2025, but I’m told The Irish Times style is to spell the Swiss city “Basle”, the old French way. The French also know it as Bâle.
As is tradition, the “Big Five” financial contributors to the EBU – Germany, France, the UK, Spain and Italy – have gone straight through to the grand final, alongside hosts Switzerland.
They have been joined by 10 qualifiers from the first semi-final on Tuesday night: Ukraine (which maintained its 100 per cent qualification record), Netherlands, Iceland, Poland, San Marino, Portugal, Norway, Albania (one of my favourites), Estonia (definitely not one of my favourites) and the bookies’ favourite for the whole competition: Sweden.
There was no place for Croatia, which came second to Switzerland in Malmö last year. That’s the alarming/reassuring thing about Eurovision fortunes. They rise, then they fall. Sometimes they rise again – like a phoenix even.
Austria, Malta and Finland are among the dead certs for qualification from tonight.
I’ll be annoyed if Luxembourg’s slightly old-fashioned but charming entry doesn’t join them, and not just because their singer’s name is Laura.
I’d also like to see Latvia squeeze in – though hopefully not at the expense of Ireland.
Sweden, incidentally, is aiming to break clear of Ireland this year with a record number of Eurovision wins. As it stands, the two countries are tied on seven wins apiece. Who can stop earworm-deployers Kaj and their ode to saunas Bara Bada Bastu?
Austria, we may need you.
Ireland is third in the running order tonight, a spot deemed unfavourable. This is because the results of the semi-finals depend entirely on the public vote, and the voting public are generally regarded as being a fickle lot who will be swayed by the last good thing(s) they heard.
Voting will open after the last song has been performed and it will stay open for around 18 minutes. You can vote up to 20 times, if you are so inclined, and I’ll leave it to Marty Whelan on the RTÉ commentary tonight to explain how. But – and it’s a drag, I know – you can’t vote for your own country.
Ireland’s qualification for Saturday night hangs in the balance. According to the aggregated bookmaker odds, we are the 13th most likely to qualify, having slipped in recent days from 11th. As there are only 10 qualifying spots, if this holds true, it will mean we won’t get through.
Some fingers may need to be crossed.
Israel‘s Yuval Raphael is fourteenth in the competition running order tonight with her ballad New Day Will Rise.
She is a survivor of the Nova music festival near Gaza on October 7th, 2023, where Hamas attackers killed 360 people and took 40 people hostage. The singer, who was wounded by shrapnel, says she survived by hiding under dead bodies in a bomb shelter.
According to the Hamas-run health ministry, more than 50,000 people have been killed in Gaza since Israel’s offensive began in the wake of the October 7th attacks.
The UN said on Tuesday that almost 71,000 children under the age of five are expected to be acutely malnourished over the next 11 months as a result of Israel’s aid blockade.
An analysis by UN-backed food security experts IPC has found that one in five people in Gaza, or 500,000 people, face starvation, with 2.1 million people across Gaza likely to experience high levels of food insecurity by the end of September.
This is just part of the backdrop that has informed protests against Israel’s inclusion in Eurovision, both in 2024 and this year. A silent protest was held in Basle on Wednesday. Last year, protestors in Malmö held signs reading “Eurovision Genocide Contest”.
RTÉ is among the members of the European Broadcasting Union (EBU), which organises the contest, to have asked for a “wider discussion” about Israel’s participation – or, to be more accurate, the participation of Israeli broadcaster Kan. A group called Artists for Palestine wants the EBU to expel Kan.
The official EBU position is that, unlike its suspended Russian broadcaster members, Kan has not breached any of its membership rules.
However, no one is under any illusions. Although fractious international relations have regularly surfaced throughout Eurovision’s 69-year history, the past two years have been the most tense and uncomfortable for the EBU – and for many Eurovision viewers, too.
Grüezi mitenand, this is Dublin calling with all the glittering action from the second semi-final in the 69th Eurovision Song Contest. Tonight in Basle, Emmy will be vying on behalf of Ireland to make it through to Saturday’s grand final with her cosmic bop Laika Party.
Will Europe save its kisses for Ireland? Will Saturday night be a party under the Swiss sky for Emmy? Or will this semi-final be our Waterloo?
In the countdown to the show, I’ll be recapping some of the rules and controversies, weighing up Emmy’s chances and wondering how exactly to phrase the trigger warning I fear might be necessary for Australia’s effort.
Then, as the competition shimmies into life at 8pm, I’ll have a snap analysis of the 16 countries contending for 10 grand final spots, as well as the performances of pre-qualified entries from the UK, France and Germany. Expect dry ice and costume changes.
So, if you’re home and willing, practise your best simultaneous toe-taps and eye-rolls, plate up your Euro-snacks and prepare to indulge in Eurovision 2025.
Note: space helmets are optional, but recommended.
Boom-bang-a-banging reads:
- ‘RTÉ said we don’t have any problem with Emmy. We have an Irish writer on the team’: Ireland’s Eurovision singer from Norway
- Eurovision 2025: When is Ireland’s semi-final on, what are Emmy’s chances and how does voting work?
- Eurovision 2025 first semi-final: the 10 countries advancing to the final
