Eurovision 2025 final: Austria and JJ win, Israel finish second

Yahoo

18-05-2025

The 69th Eurovision Song Contest had a seriously dramatic finish – one that probably gave organisers a minor heart attack.
Following another year in which this strenuously non-political event was again disrupted by Pro-Palestinian protests, Israel's Yuval Raphael very nearly snatched a shock victory, which would have made the 2026 contest a seriously awkward affair.
But at the last minute, it was Austria's operatic JJ who instead took the win with his soaring, emotional song Wasted Love. It's a popular result – and it might just have saved Eurovision.
Raphael did put in a strong bid, delivering a powerful ballad at the St Jakobshalle arena in Basel, Switzerland, despite the attempt of protestors to rush the stage during her performance. However JJ proved popular enough with both the national juries and the general public to overtake her.
Much-fancied Sweden, with their cheeky ode to saunas, fell surprisingly short, as did crowd favourites like the fabulously filthy Finland.
As for the UK's girl group Remember Monday, whose song was prophetically titled What The Hell Just Happened?, they scored decently with the jury but got the dreaded nul points from the public vote, leaving them languishing in 19th place.
Fans had hoped for a guest appearance from past Swiss Eurovision winner Céline Dion, but the singer, who has been diagnosed with stiff-person syndrome, sadly didn't make the final; she had sent a pre-recorded video to the semi-final earlier in the week.
Catch up on all the night's action below.
Did you agree with the results? And do you think the UK deserved nul points from the public? Let us know in the comments!
'Love is the strongest force in the world, let's spread more love!' cries an emotional JJ.
174 points for Austria, clinching the victory. A BIG relief for organisers – it looked for a moment there like Israel were going to win, which would have created an absolute nightmare for next year's contest... Austria's JJ is in floods of tears.
The UK finishes in 19th.
OUCH! So no return visit to Switzerland next year.
Also not enough. Have Israel done it??
Not enough for a win.
Huh. What a weird set of results.
OK, not a Swedish win! Israel still in the lead, for now.
Greece get 126, so no first place for them.
Latvia's sprites get 42.
From the public vote. What the hell just happened...
So we finish on 88 points total.
That's bizarre! She's been a huge audience favourite.
Germany get 74 points. Finland 108 points.
A decent result.
Which takes them to first place for now.
Er OK. They look staggered by that.
Fair. Armenia 30. Also fair. My belief in democracy is restored.
Denmark 2. OOOOOOH!!!
So they don't finish on nul points.
San Marino get 18, Poland 139 – a big jump up.
Norway get 67, Luxembourg 24. Ouch. Spain get 10. Even bigger ouch.
And 62 for Lithuania.
Followed by Switzerland, France, Italy, the Netherlands, Sweden.
The UK is currently in 10th. BUT the public now get to have their say...
The final jury result of the night. 10 to Sweden, 4 to the UK.
10 Finland, 5 to UK.
Shocker.
10 to France, 8 Netherlands, 7 Austria.
10 to Denmark, 8 to Latvia. Other than the general coalescing around Austria, Italy and France, the juries are all over the shop.
5 to the UK!
10 Italy, 8 Netherlands.
10 to Spain, 8 Switzerland.
10 to Germany, 8 to Malta.
10 to Estonia, 8 Switzerland.
Is this now Austria's? It'll take a big public vote to overturn that lead – but it's just about possible...
10 to France, 8 Malta.
10 Latvia, 8 Malta.
10 Sweden, 8 France, 5 for the UK.
6 more for the UK.
Sophie Ellis-Bextor looking fabulous in a shiny LBD and bouncy ponytail.
Ooh 10 to the UK!
10 Germany, 8 Austria.
10 to Austria, 8 to the Netherlands.
With a very decent 53 points.
At the halfway mark of the jury vote. BUT the public vote can completely upend the leaderboard.
10 Albania, 8 Austria.
1 more for the UK.
2 for the UK, thank you kindly. 10 Netherlands, 8 France, 7 Israel.
10 Finland, 8 Switzerland.
10 Austria, 8 Switzerland.
Well OK. 4 more for UK. 10 Switzerland, 8 Italy.
10 Switzerland, 8 Ukraine, 2 for UK.
Announced by a talking mouse. Why? I've honestly stopped asking these questions.
10 Armenia, 8 Greece, 7 Israel. Nothing for the UK – boo.
Malta 10, Denmark 8, UK 7!
10 for Sweden, 8 Finland, and a further 7 for the UK.
Well! And their 12 points go to Germany.
10 Switzerland, 8 Latvia. 2 more for the UK! We're edging into respectability.
OOH THE UK IS ON THE BOARD! 6 points for us.
10 to Finland, 8 for Austria.
Still nul points for the UK.
10 for Austria, 8 for Switzerland – those two doing consistently well.
10 for Switzerland (doing very well), 8 for Sweden.
HUH?!
10 for Greece, 8 for France.
Nothing yet for the UK.
10 for Italy, 8 for Ukraine.
Sweden's jury representative is in a towel, in a sauna. Commitment to the bit! Their 12 points go to Austria, with 10 for Switzerland.
No more voting! And we'll find out the results in a few short...hours. (I jest) (Sort of)
Last year's winner, the non-binary performer Nemo, debuts new single Unexplainable, which apparently 'examines the inward journey' via 'moving intimacy, gentle strings and a peculiarly infatuating amp hum', per the blurb. So there's that. There's also a lot of rolling around on the floor.
Neil is dubious. 'Well, all I'm saying is Nemo wouldn't have won Eurovision with that histrionic breakdown of a performance.' It's definitely self-indulgent stuff – and suffers from following that mad mash-up of two actually entertaining songs.
Yuval Raphael was left 'shaken and upset' after protesters attempted to storm the Eurovision stage during her performance, according to the Israeli delegation. The disruptors were blocked by security officials and detained.
Israeli broadcasting team Kan reported that it moved location for 15 minutes due to security issues. However, a Kan representative said it was 'extremely proud' of Raphael's performance, adding that it had 'represented Israel in a respectful manner.'
That's not a euphemism. Well, not really.
It's still not Ms Dion, but it is an unholy mash-up of two massively popular past Eurovision entries: Finland's Käärijä with Cha Cha Cha and Croatia's Baby Lasagna with Rim Tim Tagi Dim. Well that's woken everybody up!
Wails Graham. And so say we all.
AKA yet more vamping while we wait for everyone to vote. We're currently being treated to performances from past Swiss Eurovision entrants - and/or a handy tea break. Basically we're all waiting for Céline Dion to make a titanic (sorry) entrance.
At least Neil and I are back in agreement! He says: 'Call me a snob, but a mash-up of Switzerland's past Eurovision flops is not my idea of compelling Saturday night TV.'
'Three pro-Palestinian protesters who tried to rush the Eurovision Song Contest stage after Israeli singer Yuval Raphael's performance in Basel, Switzerland have been let go by police,' reports Liz Perkins.
'A spokesman for Basel police said: 'The organiser handed the two people over to the police. The police checked the two people and then released them. It is now up to the organiser to decide whether to press charges.''
The protesters are members of Youth Demand, a civil resistance group advocating for the British government to impose a trade embargo on Israel.
Two of those arrested this evening are David Curry, 22, from Manchester, and Meaghan Leon, 27, from London. Leon said in a statement: 'I cannot [...] sit back and watch Europe throw a party with the genocidal state of Israel in attendance, especially after Russia was rightfully kicked out for their aggression towards the Ukrainian people. Do Palestinians not deserve the same consideration?'
All of tonight's wildly contrasting acts have performed. So, who are you voting for – and how do you think the UK will fare? Let us know in the comments below or vote in our poll!
And finally... We end with a bit of a damp squib. This is apparently 'post-immigrant pop' from Albania's Shkodra Elektronike. It's also post-tune and post-any of sort of televisual interest, but anyway.
Neil says: 'Remember folktronica, a genre that tried to meld traditional folk instruments to techno electronica? Well, it's alive and well at Eurovision. I am, I have to admit, exhausted by the whole thing now, and running out of ways to describe how utterly bereft of imagination, wit and zest this bombastic, overloaded, characterless music really is. She can sing a bit, and she's got a nice frock, but the bald guy reciting doomy poetry in Albanian isn't helping to sell it to me.'
It would be hilarious if the Italians give this pandering nonsense nul points.
Neil says: 'Almost grotesquely naff comedy EDM about the greatness of Italian culture, and the second song tonight to reference spaghetti and the mafia. It's another one the bookies like, which I suspect tells you that when it comes to musical taste, never trust a bookie.'
Nearly there! Just three songs to go (and more filler, and vote-counting). We just had a random singalong to Waterloo, which was probably more fun if you were in the room (and drunk).
Anyway, back to the competition. Louane's Maman is a real tearjerker – and not just for the backstage crew who have to sweep up all that sand. Another stealth contender? I reckon so, but Neil isn't convinced.
Neil says: 'A dramatic chanson about 'maman' from France, staged as the sands of time run out. This is one of three songs dedicated to mothers in this year's Eurovision final, the other mums appearing in the offerings from Denmark and Greece. It's very Gallic and you wouldn't be displeased to come across it being belted out by an Edith Piaf soundalike in a smoky Parisian nightclub, but it probably rates third in this year's mama songs, so I don't think it'll be troubling the scoreboard.'
Right, time for the bookies' favourites, KAJ with Bara Bada Bastu – and if you don't find yourself humming this song at random intervals for the next month, you might just be dead inside. It's a winking ode to the sauna, it's crazily catchy, it has backing dancers in tiny towels, it obviously should win – and it's where me and fun-sponge Neil part ways.
Neil says: 'This is apparently the favourite, which is a reminder of why I am the last person you should listen to on the subject of winning Eurovision. Because I think it is an absolute stinker. A saucy, charmless comedy song about saunas delivered by three men in bad suits with some terrible faux-folk fiddling, a chanty folk-pop chorus, and a bit of dancing with comely lumberjacks.
'It's essentially one of those trite Germanic schlager pop songs that used to make the UK feel so smug about our position in the pop hierarchy. Honestly, if this actually wins, then Britain should congratulate itself on our inability to appeal to Eurovision tastes.'
Are the Eurovision organisers deliberating ping-ponging back and forth between the world's most contrasting songs? One moment we're being lulled into a coma, the next we're getting the song equivalent of an adrenaline shot to the heart. Anyway, back to the latter with Denmark's Sissal, who looks like a lost Dancing on Ice contestant in her spangly leotard.Neil says: 'One of those standard Euro techno-pop anthems that goes along a bit with some pleasant singing amidst over familiar synths and pumping beats but saves all its vocal fireworks to the end. It's like a singers sweepstake, all these top-class vocalists who we know in our hearts can go for the big notes, but they hold back, keep it reined in, until we're in the final furlong, the finish line is approaching and suddenly you're listening to an entirely different vocalist, unleashing flurries of big-lunged, sky-scraping notes in a dash for the end line.
'It's an impressive effect, but it would probably help if they had an original melody, interesting lyric, imaginative arrangement, and maybe some emotional content that justifies the vocal explosion.'
'This is a band called NAPA, as in nap time,' says Norton. Quite. I get a 'youth counsellor at church camp telling us Jesus was another cool dude' vibe from this lot.
Neil says: 'A bit of scruffy soft rock from Portuguese band NAPA. The problem with real bands trying to enter into the Eurovision spirit is that they are always caught between retaining musical authenticity and the challenge of adding a bit of costumed choreographic pizzazz to their act. The song sounds a bit like something you might have heard from Bread in the 1970s, but the performance is more like burnt toast.'
And so we swing back to the opposite extreme with Miriana Conte's infamous Serving. This is also memorable, for very different reasons, and the audience clearly adores it – could Conte be the one to beat? She works a yoga ball like no one else.
Neil says: 'After all the kerfuffle around her using the word Kant (which translates to 'singing' in Malta, and something much ruder everywhere else), Mirian Conte has definitely got a shot at the title.
'Actually not nearly as blatantly rude as Finland's Erika Vikman, it's a much more modern pop song (in that it only sounds about two years out of date, not 20). There's a stripped-back electro-pop energy to the insistent hook, and Miriana romps around with an abundance of body-positive sexual energy on a shamelessly camp banger. Staged with hyper-colourful zest, it's fun, it's dumb, it's hella catchy…who's to say she Kant?'
As we all recover from Armenia's Lynx ad, here's the the song equivalent of a very breakable porcelain vase from Switzerland: Zoë Më's Voyage. A reminder that we get partial credit for this delicate beauty, as one of the writers is Scottish. The filming is distinct too: instead of lots of frantic production, it's one tight close-up shot – which, as Norton points out, works better for TV viewers than the stadium audience.
Neil says: 'The local entrant. Clearly the Swiss don't want the expensive honour of hosting the competition again, so they have actually convinced a talented singer-songwriter to deliver a tender, curious ballad without any Euro nonsense at all, though she does squeeze in a last-minute key change. The orchestration is lush but mostly restrained and she even kept her clothes on. That was lovely, like a little palette cleanser.'
It's gym bro time. Parg's treadmill-centric Survivor is so ostentatiously macho that it comes back around to full camp, like the Top Gun volleyball scene.
Neil says: 'You can smell the testosterone through your TV screen. Is Parg hoping that by forgetting to put his shirt on, he might distract us from how much his song clearly owes to American pop-rock behemoth Imagine Dragons? If his career survives this, it will be an achievement in itself.'
Neil says: 'Nice glasses. Older viewers may be reminded of Nana Mouskouri, the Greek pop star who actually represented Luxembourg in the Eurovision song contest in 1963.
'Like the great Nana, this year's Greek entry features a singer, Klavdia, who brings a lot of actual Grecian flavour and inflection to their vocals, lending a pleasing folk flavour to an otherwise forgettable song that blends epic ballad and techno tribalism into a tasteful but ultimately insubstantial and unsatisfying Euro mush.'
Geert Wilders has congratulated Israel's Yuval Raphael on her performance at Eurovision.
The far-right Dutch leader posted on X: 'Am Yisrael Chai' (the people of Israel live) with a photo of the 24-year-old on stage.
Since the BBC is ad-free, we're being 'treated' to a whole lot of filler while other broadcasters go on break. Mainly weird presenter banter.
Right now it's a glimpse of the backstage production work – which might actually interesting be for a labour-intensive show like this one, but we're really not learning anything.
'Props to you, Richard!' is an actual joke that Hazel Brugger just made.
Das ist gut.Neil says: 'I don't actively object to this dinky technopop anthem from sibling duo Abor & Tynna. The repeated 'ball-a-la-la' vocal sample is a catchy hook, the production by co-star and electro cellist Abor has an underplayed early 90s clubby throb, whilst singer Tynna's vocal has a pleasingly contemporary sense of restraint.
'They seem to be having fun whilst not trying too hard, which is so against the over-the-top spirit of this competition it has a charm in itself. It has no chance of winning, of course, but you wouldn't run out of the room screaming in rage if it came on at your local disco, which is a plus.'
FYI, Justyna Steczkowska's spooky song Gaja apparently contains a Slavic spell to cleanse her following a toxic relationship. Also dragons. What would modern Eurovision be without some goth witch weirdness? Shame the 'flying' is such a bust.
Neil says: 'What Poland's entry lacks in songcraft it makes up for in staging that involves a raven-haired singer in a skintight one-piece suspended from ropes in the air whilst a CGI dragon swoops down. Techno tribalism with a bit of folky fiddling is one of those Euro-only genres you never hear anywhere else. Thank God. Can you imagine something like this suddenly blasting out of a supermarket tannoy whilst you were shopping for groceries? You'd jump out of your skin.'
And breathe. I love the gentleness of Lucio Corsi's delivery, even if it's 100 per cent retro pastiche. It's basically the jukebox musical of Eurovision.
Neil says: 'Remember when 70s singer-songwriters were all trying to add a bit of Ziggy Stardust magic to their Bob Dylan poetic masterpieces? Well, Lucio Corsi certainly does. He sings flatter than Steve Harley with a slow puncture around an elaborate mid-tempo ballad that reaches for Lou Reed streetwise drama but only gets as far as Chris De Burgh pseudo mysticism.
'One can only hope that Lucio's lyrics sound more profound in his native Italian, because he's not going to win poetry prizes for 'I wanted to be a tough guy / A gold medallist in spitting / (but) I'm nobody / A white belt in judo / Instead of a star, just a sneeze.' You are never going to win the Eurovision with a song that ends on a harmonica solo, but honestly, if you heard it on a car radio driving around Tuscany you might believe it was a lost Euro glam classic.'
The song title tells you all you really need to know: Ich Komme (you don't need to be Freud to suss this one out). Add in latex, leather, pouting and hair flips, and we've definitely moved into the adult stages of the contest.
Neil says: 'There's an underlying smuttiness to a lot of Eurovision pop music and Erika Vikman lays it on thick with a single-entendre anthem in which a male voice choir chant 'I'm coming' whilst she bellows forcefully in Finish that 'my gates are open', invites us to 'hit me once more, grab my ass' and reveals that all she can do is 'cry: I'm coming'.
'The Pet Shop Boys-meets-techno Wagner electro bombast shifts into a whole extra gear at the end, which is clearly popular with the arena audience. Dressed like a Valkyrie S&M madam, the finale in which she bestrides a giant rocket-fuelled phallic microphone has to be seen to be believed. Frankly, this is what we Komme to Eurovision for, isn't it? I'd vote for it, and hate myself in the morning.'
I can't help but succumb to the super-charismatic Claude and his cosily nonsensical chanson C'est La Vie. There's a weighty tale behind this one (it's about his family escaping from the Congo), but the actual performance is like slipping into a warm bath.
Neil writes: ''We say la la la la vie!' The use of Franglais as the international language of song is such a Eurovision staple. It's actually a sweet number, shifting between sentimental ballad and romping singalong, given a touching performance by the man in the silk pyjamas (bedroom wear is very on trend, I am assured by my resident fashion correspondent).
'The Netherlands have skimped on the special effects, perhaps aware that Claude's smile alone is worth its weight in pyro. Not a winner, but not a complete embarrassment either, which is kind of a win in Euro terms.'
What if Tolkein invaded your dreams with a masque scored by Enya? Meet Tautumeitas.
Neil says: 'The Latvian forest nymphs certainly look happy. A mash-up of baroque classical harmony, operatic singing, lots of battering percussion and a bit of interpretative dance.
'It's another example of a kind of song that only really exists at Eurovision, a collision of incompatible genres that briefly almost makes sense because the performers convey the kind of excited delight to be on stage that you only usually see at a children's drama class production.'
It's creepy blonde twin time. This hyperactive pair are hopped up on Haribo and ready to party/sing every note in a slightly different key.
Neil says of VAEB: 'They've been described as Iceland's answer to Jedward, begging the question: who asked for another Jedward and can we send them back please? It's a charmingly cheesy performance of bog-standard Euro techno pop fluff. The costumes look like Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men dressed for a day at sea.
'Roa turns out to be a song all about the pleasures of rowing, which I learned by hitting Google Translate for the chorus: 'Rowing here, rowing there, rowing through the waves / Nothing can stop me, ooh ooh ooh.' It sounds marginally better in Icelandic.'
JJ and his soaring pop-operatic Wasted Love is definitely one of the stronger contenders this year. But actual ability rarely corresponds to final placement, so I won't get too excited.
Neil says: 'Austria go for the full glass-shattering operatic high notes set to some baroque electronic pomp with a bit of techno bombast for variation. Well, it worked for Conchita Wurst in 2014.
'It's a pretentious hodgepodge style of music you only ever really get at Eurovision, technically impressive and superficially emotive but contrived and deeply irritating if you listen to it more than once. If your dog starts howling at the TV, you will know JJ has reached beyond the range of human hearing.'
Well, look. This one just isn't for me. It's well-sung but feels totally ill-suited to contemporary Eurovision. What The Hell Just Happened? is simply too prophetic a song title. And the constant mugging to camera is irksome.
Neil says: 'I'll tell you what the hell just happened. In an effort to avoid the ignominy of another bottom of the barrel nul point UK Eurovision performance, the nation dialled the clock back to approximately 1978 and sent three smiling, pretty cabaret girls to sing sweet harmony on a jumped-up Queen pastiche. Full marks for not even trying to sound like a modern pop song. Someone somewhere will give Great Britain at least a point this time, surely?'
Are you a fan? Let us know in the comments below!
Ziferblat is up next with the pointed but just about non-political Bird of Pray. Stylistically this song is A LOT.
Neil says: 'Another surprisingly upbeat warzone anthem from Ukraine. The colourfully attired band look like one of those friendly alien races that Doctor Who's hero used to protect from invasion back in the 1970s on a shoestring costume budget.
'The song is bizarre even for Eurovision, verging into jazz prog rock territory, with some truly odd harmonies and a trio of girls delivering the kind of fluttery notes you might get from a human theremin. It's quaint but I doubt even a big sympathy vote will deliver victory for Ukraine this time around.'
Ah, that's more like it. Viva la diva!
Neil says: 'Spain's Melody maxes out the costume changes in an old-fashioned stompy disco anthem, with a bit of flamenco guitar to reflect her national heritage and a cheeky musical lift from Abba (the descending ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha). It's all very cheerful with a lot of panache but probably a bit dated to conquer the campy and self-aware modern Eurovision.
'The dance move she pulls off at the end looks positively dangerous, and I wouldn't try it at home without a helmet. In the unlikely event Melody wins, I fear a sudden increase in dance-related head injuries.'
We could do with some light relief now. Sadly, Lithuania are up next.
Neil says: 'The Lithuanians don't exactly lift the mood with their blast of dour goth rock. Dry ice is usually a signal for a rock number at the Eurovision, and Katarsis don't buck the trend. With pounding drums, chiming guitars, doomy bass and droning vocals, they sound like something you might expect to find in a Battle of the Bands competition rather than on TV's campest song contest.
'I'm sure they think they're striking a blow for real music by bringing their gloomy dirge to Eurovision, even if they have succumbed to the TV show's ludicrous dress code by wearing what appear to be orderly uniforms designed for a more cheerful mental asylum. I kind of like them, which probably means it's another nul pointer. I hope debasing their principles for Euro glory gets them a slot at Download Festival at the very least.'
We've seen yet more Pro-Palestinian protests today, but, undeterred, Yuval Raphael powers onto the stage with her big ballad New Day Will Rise. There's just a hint of crowd noise on the broadcast (sounds like a mix of cheers and boos), though the organisers could be utilising their anti-booing technology here.
Neil says: 'Eurovision likes to position itself as promoting peace and harmony, but pesky war and politics keep getting in the way. Israel's inevitably controversial entry is an old-fashioned ballad of hope and rebirth sung by a survivor of the 2023 Hamas massacre at the Nova Festival. It doesn't really invite cheap jokes.
'If we can overlook the auditorium booing and proliferation of Palestinian flags (which the broadcasters certainly do their best to), and skip lightly past the perennial question of which map of Europe includes Israel, what can we actually say about the song itself? It's a rote ballad-by-numbers, expressing prosaically trite sentiments in three languages, staged with a kind of noble gravitas – and I think everyone will be relieved when it's over and we can skip ahead to the next piece of meaningless pop trash.'
I have a soft spot for Tommy Cash's gleefully silly earworm Espresso Macchiato. And his floppy-legged dancing is absolutely mesmerising, like a drunk jellyfish.
Neil says: 'The first out-and-out novelty comedy performance of the night, the kind of song that simultaneously indulges in and mocks the innate ridiculousness of this whole competition. Or in Tommy Cash's case, it has its cake and eats it whilst spouting nonsense rhymes and doing a silly dance, then washes it down with a shot of the strongest coffee around.
'Although ostensibly representing the northern European state of Estonia, the lyrics are delivered in a ludicrously accented mix of pidgin English and Italian and seem to centre on mocking Italian stereotypes, with references to sweaty Mafioso and hard spaghetti. It looks and sounds like a Kenny Everett skit, but it is so ridiculously catchy, if it doesn't win then it is sure to have an afterlife as an advertising theme. Look out for 'nul points' from the Italian jury.'
Luxembourg are back after a 13-year absence from the contest with the Euro equivalent of hit film Barbie – and a homage to 1965 winner, composed by Serge Gainsbourg.
Neil says: 'The 69th Eurovision gets its first blast of faux-innocent sauciness, of which I am sure there will be a lot more as the evening wears on. Anyone playing Euro Bingo can scratch off the box marked 'Bucks Fizz / skirt rip off.' All in the name of postmodern feminism, of course.
'Little Luxembourg's song title translates as The Doll Turns Up The Sound and is a perkily old-school shot of Europop froth performed by what looks like the world's most cheerful sex doll declaring her independence by stripping to her underwear. You have to applaud the aspirations if not the skill of whatever lyricist managed to squeeze the word 'polyethylene' into a song this dumb (a commonly produced plastic polymer that more or less rhymes with 'porcelain' and 'oxygen' in French).
'The robot movement theme reeks of a despairing choreographer working with a singer who can't dance. Unfortunately, despite the attempt at some big notes in the climax, she can't really sing either. So far, I haven't seen anything worth more than Nul Points, but the night is young.'
Beginning the competition in earnest is Kyle Alessandro, who must be roasting in that full armour (not to mention the flames).
Neil says: 'First pyro of the night appears in Norway's overblown ode to the humble Bic. Kyle Alessandro setting a very low bar here, with a grandiose but tuneless and utterly vapid mid-tempo techno stomp.
'Kyle has the blandly handsome appearance of an AI-generated avatar for a computer game confusingly set in a version of medieval Norway where the Vikings have been supplanted by ninjas. It took me a minute before I realised he was singing in English, and even then I'm struggling to make sense of 'Nothing can burn me now, I'll be my own lighter.'
'If he'd followed that by pulling out a hand-rolled fag and lighting it on the pyro, I might have been won over. Norway have finished last a record 12 times – can Kyle Alessandro make it an unlucky 13th?'
Our hosts are celebrating the fact that all three presenters tonight are female. And that Brugger, instead of wearing high heels, is sporting clown shoes (my paraphrasing...).
Also, voting is open now, if you already know who you want to support.
A writing prize, that is. Scottish singer-songwriter Emily Middlemass, who competed on the 13th series of The X Factor, was one of the creators of Switzerland's 2025 entry.
Meet the contestants – very, very slowly – as they parade out with their national flags. Big cheer for Ukraine. Less so for Israel.
Incidentally, tonight's lighting design can best be described as 'fit-inducing'.
Last year's winner Nemo is back on the Eurovision stage, and is wearing a floor-length ballgown and inexplicable fuzzy hat.
Neil says: 'Honestly, I'd either forgotten about Nemo or wiped them from my mind. Setting a very high bar for the high notes in that intro. Will any of tonight's questions take it higher?'
Eurovision 2025 kicks off with a typically terrible pre-recorded skit from the quirky Swiss presenting team. Their humour is...an acquired taste.
There's also some extreme sports action, Swiss style – skiing, mountain biking, canoeing, and an interlude with mountain goats. It's no Tom Cruise jumping out of a plane.
It's a competitive list. Tristram Fane Saunders has ranked all of our efforts from worst to best.
He's also got a great rundown of what happened next for all of Britain's Eurovision entries.
It's nearly go time!
In a canny piece of brand synergy, the latest episode of the BBC sci-fi series (which is just finishing up now) centres on The Interstellar Song Contest – and Bucks Fizz are on the suitably flamboyant soundtrack, plus commentator Rylan makes a cameo. Read the Telegraph's review here.
Andrew Lloyd Webber has discovered a letter from the mysterious Phantom of the Opera, instructing Eurovision voters to support the UK's entry…or else! (Incidentally, Remember Monday's performance features a downed chandelier.)
There is a rationale here: one of the band, Holly-Anne Hull, previously played Christine in the West End musical.
We asked readers for some of their views on Eurovision. Many were positive about the contest, with responses including: 'I love Eurovision and often host a Eurovision party'; 'Went to the final in Liverpool two years ago – loved it'; watching it 'has become a bit of a family tradition'; 'It brings countries together'; and it's 'escapism', but 'utterly convinced that the UK will never win.'
Most enjoy it as a piece of cultural tradition or family event, but don't tend to vote as it costs money and they're convinced their vote won't make a difference.
Agree? Disagree? Let us know in the comments below!
BBC News is getting in on the steamy action.
More celebrity backers for KAJ! (well…celebrity-ish) Here they are rocking out with Jedward on the circle line. Which, in fairness, does feel like a sauna in summer.
Jedward are now in Basel to cheer on their Swedish pals.
In less patriotic news, Finnish president Alexander Stubb said recently that he was backing Sweden's KAJ to win. In fairness, KAJ are also from Finland (though they perform mostly in Swedish), but perhaps Stubb was nervous about endorsing his own nation's entrant Erika Vikman and her sexually voracious song Ich Komme.
Just when you thought things couldn't get more Swedish… Abba's Björn offered his congratulations to 2025 favourites KAJ, and played their sauna-centric track, while relaxing in his home sauna. Most patriotic gesture of all time?
Abba, of course, triumphed at Eurovision in 1974 with Waterloo.
The presenter told Scott Mills on BBC Radio 2 that he has just had shoulder replacement surgery, adding of the shoulder: 'It's less than two weeks' old. It feels a bit new. It's a little owie, but, forgive me, I'm on many, many medications right now. So if I say anything bad, it's not my fault.' That should add extra spice to Norton's commentary.
Protesters in Basel are throwing smoke bombs and look to be burning Israeli and American flags. Riot police are on the scene.
Yes, they certainly are. Ukraine's 2025 entrant is band Ziferblat with Bird of Pray – that's deliberate wordplay, not a typo. The prog rock-meets-folk-meets-wildly theatrical 70s rock opera number definitely has a lot going on. Its lyrics refer to loved ones separated by war and praying to be reconnected, with the bird acting as a go-between.
Guitarist Valentyn Leshchynskyi explained: 'I think for people all over the world, the bird is the symbol of freedom.' He continued: 'I wanted to share the emotions of Ukrainians.' The song, he said, is 'about our problems we go through, the tragedy for the last three years. To be honest, the last 11 years.'
A different but no less pressing question. As ever, there is a veritable cornucopia of surreal silliness – although sadly we lost a few bananas entries, such as Ireland's astronaut dog tribute, in the semi-finals.
But we've still got Poland's goth witch Justyna Steczkowska and her dragons, Estonia's nonsense-rap tribute to Italy, Latvia's Enya sprites, Armenia's treadmill-runner, and the frankly filthy divas from Malta and Finland. Malta actually had to change their song title from Kant (it means singing, but is clearly a naughty reference to an English word) to the more innocuous Serving.
KAJ are easily the most enjoyable entry with their ode to the sauna, Bara Bada Bastu. It's a jaunty earworm and there are backing dancers who strip down to tiny towels – what more could you ask for? It's like Bucks Fizz only with more birch whipping.
However, don't discount France's entry. Louane's Maman, dedicated to her late mother who died of cancer, is both well-sung and massive on social media. JJ from Austria is another favourite, although his operatic angst might be too similar to last year's winner Nemo.
I'd also watch out for the Netherlands' smooth operator Claude, Italy's Bowie-esque glam-rocker Lucio Corsi, Switzerland's tenderly beautiful Zoë Më, and Luxembourg's Laura Thorn, whose La Poupée Monte Le Son is a clever homage to her country's 1965 winner, which was written by Serge Gainsbourg.
Read our guide here and cast your vote on this year's entries.
Sweden are among the hot favourites going into tonight's final, however Malmö, which has hosted Eurovision three times, most recently in 2024, has ruled out repeating the feat. Marketing manager Anna Wittgren noted that it's a 'big undertaking' and said: 'We look back to 2024 with fond memories but we are happy to let another destination now enjoy the hosting if KAJ wins.'
Stockholm could pick up the baton: they've hosted three times as well. Or perhaps Gothenburg, which hosted once in 1985. It's tough when your nation is the most successful in Eurovision history.
In fairness to Malmö, it is a logistical headache, perhaps even more so at the moment given the need for extra security to handle all the protests.
At least the UK fans are wholeheartedly embracing the Basel experience.
That's the big question for Eurovision nuts – and just generally fans of the iron-lunged Canadian's belting power ballads and quirky stage persona. However, it's still TBC: Dion has paused her performing in recent years while dealing with her stiff-person syndrome diagnosis, other than a much-praised comeback at the Paris Olympics in 2024.
She did send a pre-recorded video message for the first semi-final on Tuesday, in which she said: 'I'd love nothing more than to be with you. Switzerland will forever hold a special place in my heart.'
So, a full Dion performance seems pretty unlikely, but a cameo appearance during tonight's final might still be possible. Rumour has it her private jet has made the journey to Switzerland…
They might have mixed feelings about it now given these protests, but the Swiss are otherwise celebrating the triumphant homecoming of Eurovision. Switzerland hosted the very first contest in Lugano back in 1956, and also won with Lys Assia's Refrain.
The country then racked up second and third place placings in the following couple of decades before clinching another win in 1988 with Ne partez pas sans moi, sung by the great diva Céline Dion. But it's been a long wait for this third victory, which came in 2024 with Nemo's The Code.
Demonstrators are marching through the streets of Basel, chanting and holding flags, signs, flares, and props representing body bags.
Here's the Band of the Irish Guards performing Remember Monday's What The Hell Just Happened?. A rather good cover, actually.
Speaking of voting: a reminder on the needlessly complicated system. Each country's total comes from a combination of two scores: points awarded by an expert jury, and points based on votes from viewers. That means one nation might look like a dead cert partway through the results being announced, only for a rival to suddenly be catapulted ahead of them.
Viewers can vote up to 20 times, via the Eurovision app, phone or text message. You can't vote for your home country.
Who am I to question the fundamentals of democracy, but there were some exceedingly weird voter choices – and omissions – ahead of this final. Catch up with all the action with our semi-final 1 review here and semi-final 2 review here. (Justice for Australia's naughty milkshake man and Laika the Soviet space dog.)
Over in Basel, you're nothing without your face paint.
And the BBC's Maryam Moshiri is getting into the party spirit.
Adding to Eurovision organisers' woes, lawyers are investigating after rehearsal footage was allegedly hacked and then leaked online. An EBU spokeswoman said: 'We regret that despite our best efforts to keep the content of our shows a surprise for the millions watching around the world it's regrettable that some people spoil the experience by publishing dress rehearsal content online.'
Tel Aviv-born Yuval Raphael, 24, is a survivor of the Nova musical festival attack on October 7 2023. She hid under dead bodies for eight hours in a shelter after fleeing from Hamas terrorists, and still has shrapnel embedded in her leg. Speaking after Thursday's semi-final, which saw her get through on viewer votes, Raphael said that she'd spotted one of her fellow survivors from the shelter in the audience, adding: 'It gave me so much strength.'
Her stirring ballad New Day Will Rise isn't explicitly political (which would be against Eurovision rules). However you can read some of her recent experience into lyrics such as 'New day will rise, life will go on / Everyone cries, don't cry alone.'
Read James Hall's fascinating piece on Israel's complex history with Eurovision.
The European Broadcasting Union (EBU) is desperate to retain some sort of political neutrality – the contest's ironic slogan is 'United by music' – but Israel's inclusion is once again a lightning rod of controversy, especially since Russia remains banned due to the war in Ukraine.
Earlier this month, 72 former Eurovision contestants (including the UK's Mae Muller) signed an open letter demanding that Israel and its broadcaster KAN be banned from the competition. Last Wednesday saw a pro-Palestinian march through the streets of Basel, and audience members have been waving Palestinian flags.
The UK's Remember Monday refused to offer explicit support for Israel's participation in the contest, saying this week: 'We just think it's really difficult, it's such a complex issue'.
Israel's 2025 Eurovision hopeful Yuval Raphael had her dress rehearsal disrupted by protestors on Thursday. They were swiftly ejected from the arena, but organisers are on high alert for further demonstrations: 1,300 police officers have been deployed in Basel, supported by members of the Swiss Armed Forces.
Eurovision fans: never knowingly underdressed (or under-flagged).
Neil McCormick is joining me to scrutinise tonight's efforts. He says: 'Here we go again. For some people Eurovision is the pop highlight of the year, for some it is a form of musical torture. I suspect the Telegraph's readers know by now which camp their long-suffering music critic stands in, and yet it would be wrong to suggest I am entirely immune to the charms of this tasteless farrago of televisual and musical excess. As long as you don't come to this so-called song contest looking for the impactful resonance of a beautiful, emotional or musically audacious song, then there is plenty of entertainment on offer.
'Stylistically, Eurovision has long (long, long) since entered a zone almost entirely its own, a camp and over-stressed absurdist magnification of particularly gaudy pop genres with everything dialled up to the max. At a time when pop charts have become meaningless and streaming has decimated whatever common ground existed between generational tastes, it may be the last place left where families can gather together and celebrate the inherent frivolous ridiculousness of pop music culture at its most trashy.
'We can mock each other's tastes, laugh at the ludicrous costumes, express varying degrees of shock at the levels of innuendo and, occasionally, magically, absurdly find ourselves carried away by the sheer bravado and chutzpah of it all, and even start blabbing about how this one's actually a fantastic song, a deserving winner, a modern classic in the making...then wake up and hate ourselves in the morning.
'It is traditional to say 'let the games begin' but I know that for real Eurovision fans the game is well underway by this time, and some of us are already on our second bottle of cheap Italian vino and betting on who will be the first contestant rip off their skirt or call for world peace amidst a blazing conflagration of dry ice and pyrotechnics. So let's dial it back to its gladiatorial essence, and at my signal...unleash hell!'
I do admire Remember Monday for humorously turning some their online hate comments into song.
William Sitwell believes we deserve to win – and that if we don't triumph tonight, we should quit Eurovision altogether.
Meanwhile data scientist Irini Economides has crunched the numbers: here's her prediction of who's going to win and whether the UK is in the running.
Let us know your thoughts in the comments below!
Remember Monday have prepared themselves for the possibility of that dreaded blank score, they told the Telegraph's Liam Payne. Band member Holly-Anne Hull noted that 'in the moment, it might hurt', but hopes they'll be 'a couple of glasses of prosecco down by then.'
Read more about their Eurovision experience in our interview here.
Well, we were never going to win, right? Other than that narrow second place finish with Sam Ryder back in 2022, we've been on a dismal Eurovision streak. Last year Olly Alexander finished in 18th place, and in 2023 Mae Muller could only manage 25th. Ouch.
Still, I can't fathom the thinking behind the choice of chirpy country-pop trio Remember Monday and their song What The Hell Just Happened?, which is fun enough but seems to me fundamentally ill-suited to the contest. It has weird tempo shifts that kill the momentum, there's no crazy staging gimmick or big emotional climax, it's just…fine. Notably, we haven't been represented by a girl band at Eurovision since Precious in 1999.
For what it's worth, the Telegraph's music critic Neil McCormick actually thinks highly of it, praising the track's 'screaming guitar solos, barrelhouse piano, cheesy synth horn parts, syncopated harmonic cascades and a general mood of 1970's soft rock joy.' Read more of his thoughts here.
We've had a surprising last-minute change. Doctor Who star Ncuti Gatwa was meant to be the UK's jury representative this year, announcing our allotted points live on the night. But he has mysteriously pulled out, the BBC said yesterday, stating that it was 'due to unforeseen circumstances.'
We've got a fun replacement, though: Murder on the Dancefloor singer and kitchen disco favourite Sophie Ellis-Bextor.
Our 2025 Swiss hosts are comedian Hazel Brugger – who stole the show in the semi-finals with offbeat antics like messy fondue-eating and interviewing while crowd-surfing – alongside TV presenters Sandra Struder and Michelle Hunziker.
More importantly, the reliably arch Graham Norton is back to provide his wry commentary for British viewers.
Here is the full running order, beginning with Norway and ending with Albania. The UK is eighth to perform.
Norway | Kyle Alessandro – Lighter
Luxembourg | Laura Thorn – La Poupée Monte Le Son
Estonia | Tommy Cash – Espresso Macchiato
Israel | Yuval Raphael – New Day Will Rise
Lithuania | Katarsis – Tavo Akys
Spain | Melody – Esa Diva
Ukraine | Ziferblat – Bird of Pray
UK | Remember Monday – What The Hell Just Happened?
Austria | JJ – Wasted Love
Iceland | VÆB – Roa
Latvia | Tautumeitas – Bur Man Laimi
Netherlands | Claude – C'est La Vie
Finland | Erika Vikman – Ich Komme
Italy | Lucio Corsi | Volevo Essere Un Duro
Poland | Justyna Steczkowska – Gaja
Germany | Abor & Tynna – Baller
Greece | Klavdia – Asteromáta
Armenia | Parg – Survivor
Switzerland | Zoë Më – Voyage
Malta | Miriana Conte – Serving
Portugal | NAPA – Deslocado
Denmark | Sissal – Hallucination
Sweden | KAJ – Bara Bada Bastu
France | Louane – Maman
San Marino | Gabry Ponte – Tutta L'Italia
Albania | Shkodra Elektronike – Zjerm
Live coverage begins at 8pm on BBC One and BBC iPlayer. The contest runs for about four hours in total, so we'll find out the winner around midnight.
Check out Ed Power's excellent piece on the 10 finalists to watch. I'd say anyone who got Sweden in their Eurovision sweepstake is feeling pretty smug, but it's still quite an open competition.
The contest is being hosted by Switzerland following their win in 2024 with Nemo. Tonight's action comes to you from the 12,000-capacity St Jakobshalle sports arena, which was also the venue for the semi-finals earlier in the week.
…to our live coverage of the 2025 Eurovision Song Contest! The most bonkers music competition ever created is back, and yes, there is plenty of enjoyable madness to come tonight, plus the usual dispiriting UK entry (of which more shortly).
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