Eurovision says 'wait and see' on Celine Dion
Just hours before Saturday's Eurovision Song Contest grand final, organisers were tight-lipped about whether ailing superstar Celine Dion might make an emotional appearance, 37 years after winning the competition.
"Father Christmas exists, and you'll have to wait and see," Eurovision director Martin Green told a press conference, when asked directly if Dion might show up.
At both of Friday's dress rehearsals for the final, as at Tuesday's semi-final, a video message from Dion was played, with the presenters announcing that she could not be with them in Basel, Switzerland for the world's biggest televised live music event.
But Eurovision 2025 co-executive producer Moritz Stadler said on Saturday that the show was still being adapted.
"There are constant changes. Our team has been working overnight until very late," he said. "We continue changing it for the grand final."
BBC television reported that Dion's private plane was in Basel, but did not know if she was on it.
And Swiss newspaper Blick said that selected staff with printed schedules for the final "can see that the recorded greeting from the rehearsals and the first Eurovision semi-final is no longer included".
"This indicates that the clip played during rehearsals has been replaced," the tabloid added.
- Dion's health 'top priority' -
Dion, 57, is now a global music icon. But she has never forgotten the role the song contest played in launching her on the international stage.
Dion was 20 and little-known outside her native French-speaking Quebec province in Canada when she won Eurovision in 1988, representing Switzerland with the song "Ne Partez Pas Sans Moi".
Switzerland duly hosted Eurovision 1989, where Dion opened the TV extravaganza with her winning French-language song.
She then premiered the single "Where Does My Heart Beat Now" -- heralding her career switch into English, which set her on the path to global chart domination.
With Eurovision 2025 returning to Switzerland, organisers reached out to Dion.
However, the singer is now battling a debilitating health condition and rarely appears in public.
"We are still in contact with Celine Dion. As always, her health remains our top priority," a Eurovision 2025 spokeswoman told AFP on Friday.
- 'Music unites us' -
Dion first disclosed in December 2022 that she had been diagnosed with Stiff Person Syndrome, a painful autoimmune disorder which is progressive and for which there is no cure.
She was forced to cancel a string of shows scheduled for 2023 and 2024, saying she was not strong enough to tour.
But she gave a surprise, show-stopping performance from the Eiffel Tower at the Paris 2024 Olympics opening ceremony.
"I'd love nothing more than to be with you in Basel right now," Dion said in her video clip.
"Winning the Eurovision Song Contest for Switzerland in 1988 was a life-changing moment for me.
"Music unites us -- not only tonight, not only in this wonderful moment. It is our strength, our support, and our accompaniment in times of need."
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Then, later on, when they look back, they start to realize what the song was really about or what it was trying to tell them. I love that idea of the past self and future self—that dynamic feels really present in your music. Do you ever look back on your songs and think, 'Oh, that's what I was feeling,' or 'That's what I was processing,' and have that kind of relationship with your own work over time? Claudio: Absolutely, and I think with this album in particular, that sentiment is really strong—because it's the first album where I'm actually writing everything from personal experience. Some of these songs I wrote during a heartache, or I would listen to them while I was going through something, and I've cried to many of them, many times. And now, some of the songs I wrote maybe a year ago, I listen back and think, 'Wow, I can't believe I was going through that at the time.' Now I can hear it from a totally different perspective. It's really interesting—even with songs I've written in the past. The song 'I Didn't Think' is one that's interesting for me, cause sometimes I honestly feel like I'm just a vessel. Concepts and melodies just flow through me and I kind of black out. Then I'll go back and listen and think, 'Damn, how did I do that? That's wild.' And I don't even remember what my headspace was. I'm telling you—sometimes it really does feel like a spiritual thing. So there's that. And then yeah, I don't know—I'm always listening back to things. It's just interesting to see how we evolve as people and as artists. There are things I would have done differently, or things I hear now and realize I might not even be able to tap into that same place again, even if I tried. It's always interesting. But yeah—I look back a lot. Bava: It's so fascinating to hear about the ritualistic side of writing and making music. Do you have certain things you do to help you get into that creative space, or is it something you can usually access anytime? Claudio: No, I definitely don't always have access to it. I can really only tap into that space when I'm in a studio environment. I'm not the kind of artist who writes at home or just anywhere—I find it really hard to get into that headspace outside of the studio. I need to be mentally prepared. I can't just book a last-minute session and say, 'Okay, I'm ready to go.' It also really depends on who's in the room. I go off of energy—I'm super sensitive to people's energy, what they're going through, or if the vibe just feels off. That's why I prefer working with the same people when it comes to my own music. With other artists, if I'm in the room as a songwriter, it's easier for me to adapt. But for my own stuff, I like the consistency—I like knowing what to expect. I'm a very routine-based person. When I go into a session, I work from 1 to 7 p.m.—very strict for some reason—and it has to be in a studio. It can be a home studio or any studio, but it has to be a studio space where I can lock in. I don't like taking breaks. If I walk out, I feel like the energy leaves with me, and when I come back, it's weird. It's strange—I know—but it kind of has to feel like work for me. And I like to work with the same team, and I need a few days' notice before a session. Honestly, it's kind of stressful if you think about it. It's not as free as people might assume, especially because my music feels really free. But I'm super regimented. Like, yeah—I don't play. Bava: Yeah, I mean—combining all the aspects of who you are—your music, your visual identity—I feel like you really embody that fully. You seem so connected to your intuition that if you waver from it even a little, it probably feels hard to stay aligned, like staying on that arrow. Claudio: Totally, totally. Bava: Speaking of the visual aspect—I feel like that's such a big part of your creative inspiration. When I think of your music, I also enter this rich visual world. How has that evolved and influenced this album? I'd love to hear more about the inspirations behind the new world you've created, because this feels like a completely different space. Claudio: It is. This whole album was inspired by something that my best friend and I wrote. So, there is—I'm trying to be discreet about my verbiage because I don't know when this is coming out. But anyways, by the end of it all, there's a much bigger picture. There's like this story of the album. And every visual that has been released is connected to that one story. But that story was written by my best friend before I even decided that I was ready to make an album. And essentially, the story that she wrote for me is what has inspired pretty much every concept, because I've made sure that every song on the album made sense with the story that she wrote. And then, when it came to the visuals, the visuals told enough of the story so that when you watch what is yet to come, you can watch it from the first music video all the way to the end of the bigger thing—and it will all make sense. I don't know how much sense that just made, but essentially, this is the most conceptual album I've ever had. And it was interesting—the process of it all—because I was... it was all very methodical, and it was like a project almost. And I was trying to make sure... it was kind of restricting a little bit when it came to the creating of the music and then the visuals, because I'm just like trying to make sure that it all makes sense by the end of it all—when everything is released—that the whole story, the whole world that we created, makes sense. But it's hard to talk about when I haven't announced what the actual theme is. But just know that it's huge—a huge world that we've created—which I've never done something like that before. So that is what has inspired all of these visuals. It's one big love story. Let's just say that. Bava: That's so exciting I can't wait to see what you're talking about. But it's so interesting to hear like the catalyst of how these seeds are planted. Was there a song that you feel was a catalyst both sonically and story-wise? Claudio: Yes, actually. So, 'Falling in Love with Her' is a title track, and it's a song that I wrote. I started creating this album in January of 2024, but "Falling in Love with Her," the song, I actually wrote for another artist in the middle of 2023—before I even decided I was ready to make an album. I had this one song that I wrote for someone else, but I completely fell in love with it, and I asked if I could keep it for myself for when I was ready to make my album. That's going to be one of the songs on the album. I had that song for like six months, and I was talking to my best friend, and we were talking about just creating something together—because she's a scriptwriter, and she does so many things. But one of the things she does is write scripts, and she wanted to do something with me. And I was like, 'Well, I haven't started on my album, but I do have this one song that I love, and when I make the album, it's definitely going on there.'I played it for her, and her wheels started turning. She was like, 'Oh my god, let me live with this for a little bit,' and she came back with a whole story based on that one song. And yeah—essentially, that song inspired the story, but then the story inspired the album. Does that make sense? Because once she wrote the story, I was like, 'Oh—first of all, I need to make an album for this,' but second, I knew what I wanted to say in the album because it was all based on that story she wrote. Does that make sense? I'm like—subliminally—can't think of what's happening, it's so confusing, but yeah. Bava: I'm sure there are so many stories that can be unraveled within this, because I mean, creating a big project like this, it just keeps unraveling. Claudio: Exactly. Bava: Sonically though, I'm really curious, were you listening to new things, were you inspired by specific artists that made you kind of lean to this new version of your music? Claudio: I think just naturally, I was in rooms with a lot of—well, it was mainly genres for me, because I was tapping into so many different styles. I must have done at least 200 sessions in one year. I was working almost every day, and with that came being in rooms surrounded by different genres—like I was doing a lot of dance, indie, alternative, and obviously R&B. Subconsciously, all of it was just sticking in my brain. I've always listened to these kinds of genres on my own time—I love indie music, singer-songwriter stuff, and really big, cinematic things. And because I was actually writing in those genres for the first time—experiencing what that was like with my voice and ideas—I got more excited to try that on my own. Usually I'm in other people's worlds when I'm songwriting, but I was like, damn, I can't wait till it's my turn and I can do exactly what I hear in my head. So yeah, I've always listened to those genres, but now I finally got to create over them. And for my album, I worked—again—with the same people I always work with. They have a broader palette of music, and they're a big reason the songs sound the way they do. They brought their own references and inspirations, and we'd go back and forth on songs we loved. A lot of the time, I didn't even know the ones they were referencing, which I thought was a good thing—'cause I'd go in and do my own thing, since I'd never heard it before. They'd play it once, I'd be like, 'Okay, cool, let's try something like that,' and melodically I'd go somewhere else. So yeah, it was just a mix of the artists I worked with, the genres I was exploring, and the music I've loved my whole life. Bava: Are there some genres that you created with that you're kind of thinking someday you want to kind of go into that world and make kind of a very different project from? Claudio: I think one of my strong suits—which I've never done personally, but I've done with other artists—is dance. There's so—like, that's the category, but there are so many subgenres under that. Just a dance album would be really interesting for me—all types of dance—even Afrobeat or house or like all the subgenres under dance. I don't know why, but it's really easy for me to write to. I've just never done it on my own because I always think about, like, when I go on tour, the music I want to perform is usually the more emotional, ballad, singing-type songs. But I really love when I get the opportunity to work with a DJ or do collabs with people in the dance world. So maybe one day I'll do my own project—or like an EP or something like that—where it's all dedicated to the dance world. Bava: Through all of the process of all the many things that you do, is there a favorite part of the process for you—from writing to performing? Claudio: Oh, well, I think it kind of leads into the next thing. I love—I think it's always like a euphoric feeling when you're creating a song and it's all clicking, and everything is making sense, and you leave the session and you're listening to the song a million times over in your car, and you're like, 'Oh my God, we just created that.' And then that leads into the part where you get to perform it for people, and you hear people singing the song back—this song that you remember creating and being in awe of. So I think those are probably my two favorite parts of this whole thing—the creation of it all, and then getting to perform it, and realizing that what you created actually connects to people in a certain way. Hearing them sing it back, watching them sing it, or watching them get emotional—or even just the visual part of it all. Those are probably my two favorite parts of the whole—this whole artist thing, I guess. Bava: I mean this album is just so expansive—it's going to be so incredible live I think. I cannot—I can't wait. It just sounds like flying. Claudio: Thanks. That's why it's so long. Yeah, it's like—I feel like I'm flying, and I can't wait. I feel like the production is so massive on a lot of the songs. And my band—like, I've already performed a couple of songs with them for certain things—but I can't wait till we're on tour and just performing it with a bunch of people. And yeah, it's gonna be amazing. Bava: Is there a song that you're most excited to perform live? Claudio: It's hard to choose. Well, no—I gotta say I have my favorites already, and I think it's the bigger production ones. Like, 'Memory Foam' is one. And then I have another song called 'Detoxing,' which is kind of similar to 'Memory Foam' in the sense that it gives—like, I always compare it to a Coldplay, Avril Lavigne type nostalgic vibe. But it's really big, and when the band performs it, it's even bigger. The energy and the emotion are crazy. And then I have another song called 'Discourage,' which is kind of the same thing. It's just really big, really full—conceptually, they're emotional. And vocally, I feel like I've broken out of this soft, whispery, sensual vibe that I'm normally on. I'm singing stronger, and I'm almost belting in some songs, which is something I've never really done before. So when we go to perform it live, that'll be exciting. So yeah, I'd say those are probably my top three faves. Bava:Yeah, that's so wonderful. Is there anything else that you want to add into this for both the readers and the listeners that we hadn't talked about yet? Claudio: I don't think so. I think you asked a lot of amazing questions. I'm just really excited for the final piece of the puzzle—for me to be able to talk about it once I announce it. But yeah, just that this is an album I'm extremely proud of, and I hope that people resonate with it in their own way, and that all the vulnerability doesn't go to waste, and it connects to people deeper than ever before. So yeah, that's all I would say. Bava:Beautiful. It's so amazing to hear you as the storyteller—like that's the most ancient thing. And when you add that to the beautiful music, of course it's going to be so potent—and yes, it's going to resonate with many. So, thank you so much. Claudio:Thank you girl!
Forbes
3 hours ago
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What Suno And Udio's AI Licensing Deals With Music Majors Could Mean For Creators Rights
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Just months ago, the majors accused Suno and Udio of having trained their models on copyrighted sound recordings 'at an almost unimaginable scale,' offering prompts that could generate near-identical copies of existing songs. The Recording Industry Association of America alleged 'mass infringement' and sought sweeping legal remedies. Now, according to The Wall Street Journal, the labels are seeking licensing fees, compensation for past use, and minority equity stakes in both companies. In return, the startups would receive the right to continue using major-label catalogs to train their models with new controls and attribution systems in place. Among the key conditions: a fingerprinting and attribution layer modeled after YouTube's Content ID system. This technology, if feasible, would enable Suno and Udio to trace how and when songs influence AI outputs, allowing rights holders to track usage and collect revenue accordingly. The labels also want veto power over future AI music tools, including voice-cloning features and remix suites, a position one executive compared to the 'controls labels already exercise in sync deals.' But even as these negotiations accelerate, one truth remains unaddressed: labels don't control everything. As Gadi Oron, CEO of CISAC, the global body representing authors' societies, points out: 'Negotiating solely with the majors will not provide the full set of rights required by AI companies. Labels can only license the rights they control, which are the rights in the master recordings.' Underlying compositions and lyrics, the lifeblood of songs, are typically managed by collective management organizations, and these rights have not been part of the current licensing discussions. Oron warns: 'To use music lawfully, especially for training or generating new content, AI companies also need to obtain rights to the underlying compositions and lyrics. These rights are typically managed by CMOs on behalf of songwriters and publishers. Without separate agreements with CMOs for the compositions and lyrics, AI companies would infringe the rights of music creators, which is the current situation in the market.' Loredana Cacciotti, founder of Future Play Music, a company specialised in digital licensing strategies for labels and distributors, echoes this concern, and places it in historical context: 'History has taught us that the major labels often act based on short-term financial gain rather than long-term protections for artists and the industry as a whole. And that concerns me. We may once again find ourselves locked into licensing frameworks that fail to account for the deeper implications, both in terms of creative control and economic fairness for the independent community when a unified voice should be front and center when responding to disruptive innovation." She adds: 'Yet, given the fragmented nature of our industry, there's a real risk that we will once again be passively swept into a new era, one shaped by decisions in which much of the music community has had little to no voice.' To artist advocates and collectives such as the Musicians' Union and the Ivors Academy, the exclusion of songwriters and performers is both predictable and dangerous. Many are sounding the alarm that history is repeating itself, only this time, it's not just the distribution of music that's being reshaped, but the right to exist as a creative identity. Phil Kear, Assistant General Secretary of the UK's Musicians' Union, asked pointedly: 'Will the consent of the music creators be sought? What share of the licensing revenue will they receive, if any?' Meanwhile, Ivors Academy Chair Tom Gray warned that these agreements 'appear to not offer creators an 'opt-in', an 'opt-out' or any control, whatsoever, of their work within AI.' Gray added: 'The same companies who have stated they wish to 'make it fair' seem instead to be 'on the make.'' And Oron's concern extends beyond who is in the room, it is about how the economic pie is being divided: 'In the early days of the digital music market, some services operated without the required licenses, but at a later stage, negotiated deals with the major record labels in exchange for the lion's share of income… With AI, the connection to the underlying musical works is even more essential, and should entitle creators to a larger share of the makes it all the more important for composers and lyricists to be included in licensing negotiations from the start, with a clear stake in the outcomes. Failing to recognize this reality risks repeating past mistakes and marginalizing the very creators whose work underpins these technologies.' Cacciotti agrees. She warns, 'These developments carry a distinct sense of déjà vu. We've been here before—most notably during the rise of streaming, when rights holders had to decide between fighting the tide or shaping it. But this time, the stakes are arguably even higher." This isn't theoretical. GEMA, the German authors' society and a CISAC member, has already filed suit against Suno, citing exactly this disconnect. These are not trivial or speculative technologies. Suno and Udio have evolved from experimental demos to near-production-level toolsets. Suno's June 2025 update allows users to upload full tracks, manipulate them with 'weirdness' and 'reference' sliders, and export 12 multitrack stems to a digital audio workstation. Udio's most recent build added 'intro/verse/drop' sectioning, faster generation times, and support for hybrid genre compositions. But these features are only possible because the underlying models were trained on enormous datasets, including, by many indications, commercially released music without permission. And while Suno claims its models don't memorize or reproduce music, evidence from lawsuits shows that, when prompted, they've generated lyrics and melodies 'identical or nearly identical' to protected songs. The urgency behind licensing negotiations between the major music companies and AI startups like Suno and Udio isn't coincidental. Several structural pressures are converging to make this a uniquely combustible moment, one in which both the music industry and AI companies may see a narrow window to shape the future before external forces lock it in for them. First, regulatory uncertainty looms large. The recent and abrupt firing of U.S. Copyright Office Director Shira Perlmutter, who had pushed back against broad "fair use" exemptions for AI training, sent a chill through the creative industries. Her removal has raised fears that a new Trump-appointed director could reshape federal copyright policy in favor of AI developers, weakening enforcement mechanisms for rightsholders and potentially legitimizing unlicensed dataset training. Then there's investor pressure. Suno's $125 million raise in 2024, which valued the company at $500 million, reflects both excitement and risk. Venture capital firms increasingly want 'clean' AI pipelines, ones backed by licensed data and clear rights frameworks. That means unresolved litigation is now a liability. For companies like Suno and Udio looking to scale or exit, licensing deals are no longer optional; they are the precondition for long-term capital access. Finally, international policy is catching up. The European Union's AI Act and the UK's stalled exceptions for text and data mining both signal that the days of unregulated scraping in Western markets may be numbered. Compliance obligations, audit trails, and provenance disclosure could soon become mandatory. For Suno and Udio, this is likely the last best moment to secure cooperative licensing arrangements before governments impose restrictions that could limit how and what their models are allowed to ingest. What's emerging from these negotiations is a licensing framework that strongly resembles the major labels' approach during previous tech disruptions, most notably their transition from suing Napster to licensing Spotify. At the top of their list is the demand for fingerprinting at the model layer. Labels want systems that can not only detect direct sample reuse but also flag stylistic derivations within generative model outputs. The ambition is to move beyond surface-level detection and toward embedded attribution systems, although whether that's technically feasible with current diffusion models remains an open question. As Mike Pelczynski, Head of Licensing and Industry Relations at Sureel AI, which builds instant attribution systems for generative content explains: 'Attribution systems are fundamentally more powerful than traditional content ID in the age of AI because the sheer scale and speed of new content creation make it impossible to track every instance of reuse manually. Only neutral attribution frameworks can identify relevant works, respect opt-outs, and give rightsholders real-time visibility and control.' Next, the majors are pushing for commercial veto rights over product features. This would mean that any future tools released by Suno or Udio, from voice-cloning plugins to remix engines, would require prior approval. It's a mechanism similar to the one labels have long enforced in sync and advertising licenses. Financially, the proposed package includes cash settlements for past use, usage-based royalties going forward, and minority equity stakes in both AI startups. This echoes the labels' early equity positions in Spotify, which later became highly lucrative, but also controversial, as artists had little visibility or participation in those deals. One reason the majors are negotiating from a position of strength: many have likely registered copyrights with the U.S. Copyright Office that they believe Suno and Udio used for training. If proven, that could expose the startups to statutory damages, potentially amounting to hundreds of millions in liability. 'The crucial point in the Suno and Udio licensing discussions,' said Liz Cimarelli, Head of Business Development at Cosynd, a platform that simplifies copyright registration and ownership tracking for creators, 'is that the major labels have likely registered copyrights with the Copyright Office that they believe these companies used for training their AI models. Given the potential statutory damages of $150,000 per willful infringement, this could serve as a significant negotiating advantage for the majors.' But she also warned: 'The risk for the wider industry is that the major labels might agree to terms that set a low standard for everyone else. Without new legislation, policy changes, or infrastructure, this could diminish the economic opportunities that AI should offer. Generative AI has already been predicted to cost music creators $22B in income over the next five years. How low can we go?'. Lastly, there's a nod toward creator control: artist opt-outs for certain use cases such as vocal cloning. But crucially, there's no sign yet of a rights framework that would allow artists to license (or deny) their work directly, nor clarity on how royalties will be tracked or distributed at the artist level. For many creators, this feels less like consent and more like default inclusion with an escape clause. And as Oron makes clear, none of this addresses songwriters' rights: 'AI companies must seek permission from all relevant rights holders, not just the labels. Without compositions and lyrics written by humans, there's nothing for SUNO or Udio to offer.' For attribution advocates, the stakes are higher than just tracking AI training inputs, it's about future leverage. 'Flat licensing without attribution is blind licensing,' said Dr. Tamay Aykut, founder and CEO of Sureel AI. 'Artists (and their labels) would lose control and could end up competing against their own AI derivatives. Labels can't price what they can't measure, and AI can't avoid what it can't track. Attribution is the difference between knowing and guessing and if they are indeed pursuing licenses, then neutral attribution can only strengthen their hand with the AI companies who want to do the right thing.' Aileen Crowley, co-president of Sureel AI, added: 'As an industry, we must come together to demand that licensing only happen when an independent attribution system is in place. Any future licensing deals must guarantee that rights holders can clearly and effectively exclude their works, and only attribution technology can deliver this level of control and transparency.' That sentiment was echoed by Benji Rogers, also co-president at Sureel AI: 'Opt-in and opt-out rights must be non-negotiable, and only neutral attribution can provide this level of transparency and protection.' These licensing negotiations could define not only the outcome of current litigation but the licensing infrastructure for AI music globally. Three distinct scenarios are emerging: In one scenario, licensed acceleration, the majors strike a deal this summer. Suno and Udio integrate attribution and payment systems, and AI-generated remix tools launch inside premium tiers. Labels win a new revenue line, and high-profile artists who embrace the tech gain visibility. But those who opt out, or were never consulted, get left behind. In a second, stalemate, negotiations collapse and lawsuits drag on. If Trump-era regulators tilt toward AI-friendly fair use policies, case law may erode the legal basis for any future licensing obligations. In the third, patchwork, one or two majors settle, others hold out, and AI companies develop regionalized tools trained on different catalogs. The result is a fragmented landscape that mirrors the dysfunctional world of sync licensing. Amid all the strategy, five foundational questions remain unanswered: This is not just a music industry story. It's a proxy for how every creative sector, from writing to voice acting to film, navigates the shift from human artistry to machine synthesis. For the majors, this may feel like the inevitable next step in monetizing technological disruption. But for the artists, songwriters, and composers whose music trained the machines, this is about power, authorship, and cultural survival. As with the rise of streaming, the question isn't whether the business will change, it's whether the people who make the music will be allowed to shape that change. As AI music licensing negotiations between AI startups and major rights holders quietly unfold, songwriters, composers, and performers are once again fighting for a seat at a table where their work is the main asset, but their voices remain Music Group and Sony Music Entertainment were contacted for comment. As of publication, neither had responded.
