It’s natural to think that prog fans wouldn’t be that interested in Eurovision, a contest centred around mainly pop music, where artists try to appeal to as large an audience as possible – quite the opposite of prog, really. But if you’ve never enjoyed the fun of a Eurovision watch party and the randomness and occasional cheesiness of the songs each year, you’ve missed out on a lot of good times. Now, with social media, the event is turned into a gigantic soap opera as fans can follow dozens of artists from all over the continent and follow their stories from national finals to pre-party meetups and collaborations to the main event, where there is never any certainty about what might happen.
After last year’s excitement, I followed Baby Lasagna to the Eurosong party before catching his solo concert in September, where he played all the songs from his then-unreleased Demons & Mosquitoes album, including the smash hit Rim Tim Tagi Dim, which placed second at last year’s Eurovision, winning the public televote. I elected not to review that concert as it didn’t really fit TPA’s brief, but I’ll say he was a very charismatic performer, perhaps more comfortable on stage than in person.
After that, a depressing, long wait until Eurovision season started again. This year, I was keen to follow the drama from the beginning.
Montenegro 🇲🇪 were surprisingly the first to have their song announced, returning to the fray for the first time in three years. They’ve been missed, but I’m not sure Nina Žižić’s unremarkable ballad Dobrodošli will see them through to the final. I’d like to see them qualify, however, if only so that they’ll actually stay in this time.
Albania 🇦🇱 came onto the scene to provide another early favourite with the delightfully cultural folk/rap fusion Zjerm, which seems sure to qualify based on its infectious energy and intrigue.
Meanwhile, another legendary country left the proceedings: Moldova 🇲🇩, after originally confirming their participation, pulled out when their broadcaster felt the submitted songs simply weren’t good enough to back. It’s a shame that the country that gave us SunStroke Project (y’know, Epic Sax Guy) has had to bow out, but I hope they return stronger.
Luxembourg 🇱🇺 brought the available songs to three in mid-January, this being their second time back after their three-decade hiatus. Originally, I wasn’t impressed by the full-on dance-pop of Laura Thorn’s La poupée monte le son, but then I noticed something that held my intrigue: a rest of exactly one beat before the second chorus, making the previous bar 5/4, and throwing off casual listeners trying to sing along. “La poupée monte le [rest] son, na-na-na-na-na-na…” So tickled was I by this delightfully devilish (Seymour) use of an odd time signature that I couldn’t stop listening to the song and eventually became enamoured with it. Perhaps facing criticism that it was too ‘kiddie-pop’, Thorn also released a slower, darker version titled Poupée Électrique, but since this version omits the rest that got me hooked in the first place, it’s inferior in my eyes.
Greece 🇬🇷 was up next, delivering the soulful Asteromata, which references the Pontic Genocide a century ago. It’s laughable that Turkey complain about this song being at Eurovision while denying the genocide in the first place. Klavdia’s passionate vocal performance should see her placed squarely in the final if she’s prepared with decent staging. For me, it’s a nice song but not really my thing.
I was especially taken aback by Slovenia 🇸🇮. I was not prepared to be bowled over by a middle-aged dad, but his subtle, understated, but highly choreographed staging, combined with perfect lighting, perfectly accentuated his emotional performance, a ballad to his wife who survived a rare form of cancer. Even singing upside down, suspended from the ceiling by thin ropes, he looked dead serious. I’m not ashamed to say that the song has brought me to tears from time to time and has also crept into my list of favourites.
Belgium 🇧🇪 and Spain 🇪🇸 also had their national finals the same night as Slovenia, but didn’t produce anything nearly as meaningful. Red Sebastian’s Strobe Lights is a humdrum techno-driven song which seems to be merely a vehicle for him to hit the ‘Speorg note’ at the end. Melody’s Esa Diva, on the other hand, is a Latin-infused bop that is sure to get the crowd chanting and could potentially do very well.
Ireland 🇮🇪 was on the cusp of sending one of my teenage crushes, Samantha Mumba, to Eurovision, but instead chose Emmy and her saccharine dance-pop Laika Party to represent them, a complete turnaround from Bambie Thug last year. Crown the… bitch? (With “bitch” meaning female dog, of course, and Laika was one… You know, I don’t have to explain my jokes!) Honestly, on the first few listens, I couldn’t get into the song at all, as the music was simply too boring, with Emmy leaving her key change too late in the song to even matter. However, once I started paying attention to the lyrics regarding the late canine cosmonaut, I did start to relate to the message and enjoy the song just a smidge more.
Now, I was not only following the released songs but trying to get into as many of the pre-selections as I could, and following certain specific national finals. One song that floated to the top of the Eurovision subreddit one day was Bird of Pray by a certain Ziferblat from Ukraine 🇺🇦. I was instantly turned on by the contrast of heavenly female vocals and crunchy prog rock riffs – I noted that the verse distinctly reminded me of Pink Floyd’s Sheep. The song was so good that it actually took me a few listens to get through the first time, as I wanted to make sure I was hearing it properly and not on a tinny phone speaker. By the time I had completed it, there was no doubt in my mind; this was a fully-fledged prog rock song, ready to represent the genre at Eurovision just as Voyager and Gåte did in ‘23 and ‘24, respectively.
I was super excited, but also nervous for Vidbir, Ukraine’s national final, where the odds seemed stacked against Ziferblat winning, especially with strong competition from pop queen Masha Kondratenko. I tuned into Vidbir, only to find it was a 4½-hour slog just to choose between ten songs, with Ziferblat being the ninth on the list. At times, the judges would deliberate and speak to the artists for more than 20 minutes between songs; while the live translators did their best, it was very difficult to follow.
Masha’s performance was perfect, and I couldn’t see how a mass audience wouldn’t choose her. But then I noticed that the other pop acts were really good too, and a sliver of hope came in that perhaps the pop audiences would be torn between two or more pop artists, while the rock community really only had one choice.
At any rate, Ziferblat rocked their hearts out, their backing singers elevating the song to a new level, and they managed to win Vidbir. I couldn’t believe it; a song I had backed had actually won and would be seen by millions more at Eurovision! My obsession with the song became deeper, and I decided to reach out to the band to see if they would answer some of my questions. To my surprise, they agreed, and you can read my interview with them here. I was overjoyed when they shared their mutual love of bands such as Genesis and Dream Theater, and they even verified that Sheep had been a source of inspiration for Bird of Pray as I had initially thought. More recently, I’ve seen the band’s guitarist share his LEGO set of Gabriel-era Genesis as well as sharing the deep cut Looking for Someone from Trespass on their Instagram; it’s one of my favourites, but not a track that is regularly singled out from the legendary band’s career. Bird of Pray might be a song that has been tailored for mass appeal, but its roots are firmly in prog, and I couldn’t be more overjoyed that millions more Eurovision fans will become familiar with it in just a couple of weeks.
The night of Vidbir was a busy night for Eurovision fans as three other national finals were happening concurrently, selecting two of this year’s raunchiest songs for Finland 🇫🇮 and Malta 🇲🇹. Erika Vikman gave a sexually charged powerhouse performance with Ich Komme (I’ll leave you to Google what it means), and has since been asked to tone down her performance. I’m rather interested to see what she’ll do instead.
Meanwhile, Miriana Conte launched herself into one being one of this year’s most iconic performers with Kant (pronounced ‘See You Next Tuesday’). The music, from my reviewer’s perspective, is tame and uninteresting pop and lyrically draws on the “self-empowered queen” theme that has come from other curvaceous performers like Netta and her Eurovision-winning Toy and Malta’s own Destiny, who won audiences over with Je me casse in 2021. The “queen” genre has honestly gotten a little stale to my ears, which might be why Conte elected to insert an expletive into her song to make a bigger splash, thinly veiling it by pretending she’s using the Maltese word for ‘singing’.
Of course, complaints were made and she needed to remove the titular word, but she has done so with a lot of charm and charisma in her interviews, playing the part of pretending like she doesn’t know what the interviewers mean. It’s a good strategy as it won me over, knowing she can play it like a joke. And watching her various performances, her stage presence and confidence are undeniable, a good source of inspiration for body positivity. Perhaps she’s the heroine we didn’t know we needed this year.
Latvia 🇱🇻 did not make as big a splash that evening with the six-woman Tautumeitas consistently dressing as fairies for their folkish, repetitive track Bur Man Laimi. It’s not a bad song, but it’s not very memorable either.
Poland 🇵🇱 were the next to choose, sending Justyna Steczkowska and her pop anthem Gaja, featuring plenty of high notes for the singer to hold over a booming riff. It seems impossible that this won’t qualify.
The following night featured another four national finals, beginning with Estonia 🇪🇪, who chose the somewhat sleazy-looking rapper Tommy Cash, with his thin moustache and long straight hair. He was chosen for his comedy song, Espresso Macchiato, which deliberately and pointedly parodies Italian culture, mispronouncing basic Italian words along the way. I’ll give him that his song is extremely catchy. But I was let down to learn that he thought he believed he was continuing “what Käärijä and Joost have started,” as his song was nowhere near as good as Cha Cha Cha or Europapa. He’s delusional if he believes it is. I learned that he’s friends with the other two, which made me worried that there’s some sort of toxic Eurovision boys’ club forming. It seems inevitable that this will qualify, unfortunately.
Norway 🇳🇴 usually delivers the goods each year, and I’ve been impressed with their Eurovision output for almost a decade. However, it seems that regulars KEiiNO had no new song to present this year, which immediately put Norway’s MGP in a worse position. I had some hope that Wig Wam, who introduced glam rock to Eurovision in 2005 – one year before Lordi won with Hard Rock Hallelujah, I might add – would do well, but their Human Fire was really not up to the standard of In My Dreams, so we were left with another lame pop tune: Lighter by Kyle Alessandro. It seems catchy enough to qualify, but I doubt it will be very memorable for years to come.
Lithuania 🇱🇹 brought something far more fascinating, with Katarsis serving a melancholy brew of pure post-rock in their song Tavo Akys, which concludes with a choir chanting. It’s not what I’d normally choose to listen to, but I absolutely appreciate the variety and anything that isn’t pop.
Italy 🇮🇹 faced a challenge when Sanremo Festival winner Olly deliberated over his decision of whether to go to Eurovision. With touring commitments, he eventually declined, and Lucio Corsi was selected with his Beatle-esque ballad Volevo essere un duro, which features poetic, soulful lyrics over a beautiful melody, culminating in a guitar solo. I’m personally glad that Olly declined, as we got a better song because of it.
A day later, Armenia 🇦🇲 held their Depi Evratesil festival at the Karen Demirchyan complex, where I saw Stanley Clarke in 2019 (before I realised he was the bassist in Return to Forever). As a country I used to live in, I was very interested in how Armenia would do, and I tuned into the proceedings.
It didn’t help that the sound mixing was very poor and the singers sounded awful, but there weren’t really any strong songs either. After a string of excellent songs this decade from Rosa Linn’s enduring and extremely popular Snap to Brunette’s fascinating Future Lover and Ladaniva’s excellent, exuberant Jako, the turnout in 2025 was highly disappointing. For example, Will You Marry Me? shamelessly ripped off It’s Raining Men and was somehow even more cringeworthy than The Weather Girls, eliciting responses from Redditors such as “What in the boiled piss is this?” and “Loving this trip to the cheapest Yerevan drag bar”.
Altsight’s road rock Dare to Dream reminded me heavily of the kind of song I’d hear while playing a driving game such as Burnout or Gran Turismo on the PlayStation 2 in the early 00s. Yes, it wasn’t a very interesting song, but I appreciated those nostalgic vibes. Simon satisfied the audience with his incredibly chantable Ay Paparey Bye, which I could have seen being a hit this year. If you want to witness a truly diabolical performance, though, please watch Flora Bichakhchyan as she stumbles through her folk-infused Prayer, where she seems to be attempting to resemble gospel singing, but instead fumbles the outro completely.
I was most personally impressed by the high-pitched Gevorg Harutyunyan, whose quiet, calm and subtle Hey Man probably went over most people’s heads. Without being brash, there was little chance his song would penetrate their consciousness, but it fascinated me. In the final minute of his song, something devastating seems to crash through the calm walls of the song, upsetting the balance and leaving the listener an emotional wreck. That is, if they’ve bothered to listen in the first place. His vocals could have used some work, but I reckon this was Armenia’s best chance of standing out from the crowd this year, and it’s a shame they didn’t choose to take it.
Instead, there was heavy speculation that Athena Manoukian would win, finally allowing her to perform at Eurovision after COVID robbed her of that chance in 2020. Back then, I was cringing hard at Chains on You, which seemed like a weak attempt at referencing BDSM with godawful lyrics and performance. I actually felt that Armenia was spared an embarrassing year. So I wasn’t exactly keen to see her win this year just because she was a previous entrant five years ago, especially when she showed no artistic growth with the equally cringeworthy (yet even less memorable) DaQueenation.
Incredibly, that’s not what happened! Instead, Parg beat the odds and came out of nowhere with his Imagine-Dragons-esque shout-rock Survivor with cringeworthy lyrics such as “I’ve got my bad shades on” and “I’m a survivor, stay aliver”. Yep, a pretty underwhelming song compared to Armenia’s previous greats, but I guess they can’t all be winners. I speculate that Armenians chose this song en masse because they resonate with the word ‘Survivor’ after the war with Azerbaijan.
And, speaking of the devil, Azerbaijan 🇦🇿 released their song Run with U three days later. I was initially nonplussed by it, but after enough listens, I realised just how catchy this funky track was. To my dismay, I realised I enjoyed the Azeri song more than the Armenian song. I told this to my Armenian friend, and he said to me, “Me too, but let’s just pretend we don’t.”
Iceland 🇮🇸 gave us a pair of young brothers with Væb, with their electro hit RÓA, which features a prominent triplet rhythm, rather like a lot of other songs this year, perhaps drawing on the success of Alessandra’s Queen of Kings. A decent party track which I hope qualifies, but I don’t see it doing particularly well.
Australia 🇦🇺 then announced Go-Jo would be performing Milkshake Man, another suggestive track with a fun vibe. I just wish there was a little more to this song, as it’s too straightforward for me. However, Go-Jo has really been making the rounds on social media, collaborating with as many artists as possible. His exuberant personality is just right for the contest.
After Joost’s controversial disqualification last year, there was a lot of speculation as to whether the Netherlands 🇳🇱 would return, as the broadcaster AVROTROS felt he was treated unfairly. Fortunately, the EBU and AVROTROS managed to make up, and they will now send the decidedly safer Claude with his part-English, part-French C’est la vie, which straddles the line between ballad and disco pop neatly. While not too remarkable, I do get a chuckle from the lyric “Sometimes in love, sometimes miséra-ble,” with a heavy French emphasis on the final syllable.
Serbia’s 🇷🇸 ballad Mila is so boring and route one that I tend to forget it exists, and Denmark’s 🇩🇰 straightforward pop Hallucination suffers similarly. It’s as if these countries don’t even want to qualify. I also couldn’t care less for Germany’s 🇩🇪 dance pop Baller, even if it is the first German Eurovision song written entirely in German since 2007, but that song seems to have gotten huge on Spotify for reasons I cannot explain.
Ahh… Croatia 🇭🇷. Why? Why did you do this? Of course, I followed the Dora happenings from the beginning this year, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a name I recognised: Marko Bošnjak, who had entertained us at Eurosong by singing Serduchka’s famous Dancing Lasha Tumbai. However, when I heard his entry Poison Cake I was thoroughly put off by its cringeworthy childlike lyrics and bizarre pre-chorus section. It was a horrible song, and I didn’t think about it any longer. None of the other songs seemed to have a patch on Baby Lasagna, and it was a shame to see Croatia not build on their success from last year.
Come the Dora semi-finals, and I was shocked to see his song had got through. I was rather hoping that the infectious Monopol would make it instead. And yet, on the final that Sunday night, I watched with horror as all the juries all started giving Bošnjak a ton of points, before a weaker but sufficient televote placed him at the top. It felt like Loreen in 2023 all over again, where the juries had all drunk some sort of Kool-Aid that made them see Bošnjak as the best choice, when his song was so dreadful. I could’ve voted this year, but I didn’t think I’d need to, as I would have been happier with literally any of the other 23 songs picked for Dora this year. This was the one song I couldn’t stand to listen to again, and by some cruel twist of fate, it had been selected. Well, at least I could say I’ve seen one of the ESC 2025 artists live before.
Austria 🇦🇹 then dropped their track, Wasted Love, by the incredible vocalist JJ. His song is a bold statement of intent, fusing pop and opera whilst showcasing his astounding vocal range. At first, I was put off by the timbre of the high vocals – much like how new listeners to Rush occasionally struggle with Geddy Lee’s squeaky tone – but I was eventually won over, especially by the uptempo breakdown by the end. This is definitely a song to watch this year, although it does suffer from accusations of ripping off Nemo’s style.
The following day, we were treated with the more underwhelming Kiss Kiss Goodbye from Czechia 🇨🇿, another pop song that features a tempo change in its breakdown but is nevertheless forgettable. On the other hand, the UK 🇬🇧 finally stepped up with female vocal trio Remember Monday singing their hearts out to the decidedly musical-theatre-rock-pop What the Hell Just Happened?. The girl’s vocals are impeccable (as shown by their many live reels on Instagram), but the song is a touch confusing, with many starts and stops and tempo changes, often losing all the energy with each musical pause for the girls to sing “What. The. Hell. Just…” If you can get past the flawed, clunky arrangement, however, there’s a lot to enjoy, even if the chorus irresponsibly suggests that its listeners should jump off roofs into pools (please don’t ever do that).
A day later brought three new songs to the table. Fans had been nervous that previous 2015 winner Måns Zelmerlöw would be representing Sweden 🇸🇪 again this year, and the odds were certainly in his favour. For what it’s worth, I felt that his new Revolution was a marginally better song than Heroes, but I agreed that it was time for Sweden to stop sending safe entries and previous winners and send something a little different. Surprisingly enough, the Swedish population agreed and instead selected Swedish-speaking Finnish comedy music group KAJ, who won with an utterly catchy song about saunas. Replete with a whole dance routine that’s gone viral, Sweden now seems tipped to win again with the first song sung in Swedish at Eurovision since 1998, making this the only time that Sweden have sent a song in Swedish since the language rule was abolished in 1999. All the power to them, but I hope they don’t overshadow my favourites too much.
Also selected that night was Gabry Ponte – famous for the omnipresent late-90s bop Blue (Da Ba Dee) – for San Marino 🇸🇲, beating an entirely instrumental experimental performance where Boosta sampled their piano for a loop before playing some janky notes on top. I’d have loved to see this win and go to Eurovision somehow, but I’m sure it would have been disqualified. Ponte’s song Tutta l’Italia is ridiculously simple, catchy and cheesy and yet somehow it doesn’t need to be anything more to be a fun Eurovision addition. It has the kind of quality you’d expect from this landlocked micro-nation known for the cheesiness of Serhat.
Portugal’s 🇵🇹 song took me by complete surprise. Was this… another prog song? Beginning calmly, five-man NAPA’s Deslocado quickly moves into sunny latter-day-Beatles territory. However it’s the fills and compositional eddies that keep me occupied, each one meticulously planned by the group. It could have simply been a straightforward pop-rock song, but Deslocado is filled with many musical surprises to keep you on your toes. It’s prog enough for me.
Israel 🇮🇱 are unfortunately joining again this year and the most recent news is that artist Yuval Raphael will be accompanied by October 7 survivors. And I thought this song contest wasn’t about politics… I’ll try and keep my review objective: she has a nice voice and the skills to sing well in three languages, but I don’t feel the song is very substantial, and it feels almost like an AI attempt to write a Eurovision ballad. It will doubtlessly get a ton of points, though, just hopefully not enough to win.
Hosting nation Switzerland 🇨🇭 joined the fray late with Zoë Më’s Voyage. A simple ballad with a more dynamic second act, I wasn’t initially impressed, but a few more listens and my wife’s approval of the song made me appreciate just how soothing and melodic it was; Zoë’s voice is utterly magical as she sings in French and I hope this doesn’t get overlooked. At least she doesn’t have to worry about qualifying.
With Cyprus 🇨🇾, the less said, the better. This by-the-numbers dance-pop song is so forgettable that I actually had to come back here just to write a paragraph about it. Even worse, artist Theo Evan has claimed he won’t even dance during the performance, so I cannot imagine anything worse. At least it’s not as bad as Poison Cake.
Georgia 🇬🇪 finally entered the scene after much speculation about when their song would drop, and… it’s a bit of a mess. With lyrics partially in Georgian and partially in English, it’s not certain what kind of Freedom Mariam Shengelia is singing about. At its best, the choruses have some of the atmosphere of a James Bond intro song, but elsewhere, there is a confusing mishmash of genres that don’t particularly lead to enjoyment. With this rather befuddling song, I doubt she’ll qualify, but it’s certainly an intriguing addition to the roster.
Last but not least, France 🇫🇷 capped off the entries with Maman, the exact sort of power ballad one would expect from l’Hexagone, replete with a chantable chorus and finishing with a clip of singer Louane saying the title of a song when she was a child. It’s bold but also a little predictable, yet my toddler happens to love it.
And there you have it. In the months since, there have been plenty of pre-parties for the artists to interact, collaborate, and show that they’re all friendly with each other. Sweden also found out they dodged a massive bullet, nay, a cannonball, by picking KAJ over Måns as his wife went to social media shortly after he lost, saying that she was planning to divorce and move away from him after physical and emotional abuse, as well as drug abuse and infidelity. He has even more recently confirmed that he did, in fact, use cocaine. What a gigantic fall from grace for one of Eurovision’s ‘heroes’.
In happier news, the organisers have teased a collaboration between Baby Lasagna and Käärijä; I hope that it will be a mash-up of their two songs, as I’d be delighted to hear a new take on their beloved hits. A bunch of other stars have also been invited, including Destiny from Malta and Azerbaijan’s Efendi, whom I also saw perform live last year at Eurosong. Whatever the outcome, I’ll be looking forward to sharing Eurovision with my family and celebrating this crazy annual song contest that continues to fascinate even after seven decades.
LINKS
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