And that’s it. The Eurovision Song Contest has been won by Switzerland, with singer Nemo and their operatic pop song The Code finishing on 591 points, ahead of people’s choice Croatia on 547.
Bambie Thug, in sixth place with Doomsday Blue, received a total of 278 points from the combined jury and public vote, which is the best Eurovision result for Ireland in 24 years, equalling our final position in 2000.
Crucially, it will not be Doomsday in Montrose and the Department of Finance won’t have to do another hasty RTÉ cash injection.
Bambie’s highest jury vote came from Australia, which was the source of our only 12 points, while among members of the public, they fared best in the UK, where televoters gave Ireland 10 points – the UK public vote was notably won by Israel.
The Irish public did not return the favour to the UK, having nothing for Olly Alexander. Public voters in Ireland awarded their douze points to Croatia, with 10 points going to Israel, eight to Ukraine (deservedly), seven to (one of my favourites) Lithuania and just six to Switzerland. That’s democracy for you – you can’t be on the winning side every time.
Norway, which many decades ago used to have a reputation for nul points, finished bottom tonight with 16 points, while rave-keen Austria was second-last.
The UK, although it was the only country to get zilch from the public vote, finished 18th overall, which could have been worse, while Italy’s Angelina Mango, one of the bookmakers’ initial frontrunners, ended the night in a creditable seventh position just behind Ireland. Switzerland’s victory, meanwhile, was secured despite only coming fifth in the public vote.
I imagine the party is just getting started in Malmö, but after more than 8,000 Eurovision-themed words, it’s time to sign-off here in Dublin. I’m off to buy a pink flamingo jacket and maybe some body paint. Thank you and goodnight.
Split-screen time. It’s down to Croatia and Switzerland, as we might have expected at the start of this quite torrid week. Will Nemo overtake Marko, aka Baby Lasagna?
The hosts announce that Switzerland need 183 points from the public to win. Can the Swiss do it?
Yes, they can. SWITZERLAND is the winner!
Switzerland’s song The Code, which had been the early bookies’ favourite, has clinched victory over Croatian number Rim Tim Tagi Dim by collecting 226 points from the public vote.
Nemo is overcome with delight as they are congratulated by Bambie Thug, who finished sixth for Ireland – an incredible result and our best since 2000, when Eamonn Toal also came sixth.
The top five were Switzerland, Croatia, Ukraine, France and Israel.
Nemo can barely speak as they receive the trophy from Petra and Malin, who inform them that, yes, they must perform again – although maybe they’re just upset because there’s no sign of the promised Gilmore Girls DVD?
Malin thanks Petra for being the “queen of everything” and the two presenters hug as Nemo prepares for a reprise of The Code, a rapturous song about the journey that led them to discover their non-binary identity.
Nemo, who is 24, may be overwhelmed, but they give an exuberant finale performance while wearing Bambie’s crown of thorns as Ireland’s representative is seen throwing shapes from the green room.
So we have a worthy winner to the 68th Eurovision Song Contest and, perhaps more importantly for the EBU after an event that left a bad taste for many, the next hosts will not be bombing anyone come May 2025.
Now the moment of truth is nigh as it’s time for Ireland to receive its public vote.
Bambie Thug is awarded 136 points. “Very respectable,” says Marty Whelan, but there will be relief all round among those who control the RTÉ purse-strings as this is nowhere near enough to actually win. We are currently in third, but will soon slip from this position.
Ukraine receives 307 points from the public, claiming the lead over Israel, then it’s time for Croatia. The big one. It picks up a whopping 337 points, zooming right up into first. But is it enough to stay there?
Only Croatia, Switzerland or France can win. Who will emerge victorious?
Well, it won’t be France, as its public vote amounts to just 227 points. Sorry, Slimane.
The public vote begins with the country with the lowest number of jury votes, which is Estonia, and then moves up the table – Israel, incidentally, finished 12th in the jury vote.
None of the countries with the fewest jury votes do especially well with the public, although Lithuania, which I was fond of, does briefly climb up into the first half of the table.
A swell of boos can be heard from the British contingent in the arena as the UK’s Olly Alexander receives nul points from the public, having collected just 46 from the jury vote.
Israel is next, so there’s more booing, but it receives a massive 323 points from the public. This moves it up into first place, though there’s no way it can keep that lead.
Paul Harrington, who won Eurovision for Ireland 30 years ago with Charlie McGettigan and their song Rock ‘n’ Roll Kids, pops up to announce the vote of the Irish jury. It is not neutral on Switzerland, deciding to give 12 points to Nemo.
Poland throws us one point and opts for Switzerland as the recipient of its 12, while Cyprus gives seven points to Greece, gifting its douze points to bookies’ favourite Croatia instead.
Lithuania has three points for Ireland and 12 for Switzerland, while Serbia has two for us and 12 for Croatia. Finally, the Swedish jury wraps up this portion of the voting with nul points for us and one more douze points for Switzerland. Sure, why not?
This means Switzerland has topped the jury vote, ahead of France, Croatia, Italy and Ukraine, with Ireland coming sixth.
Now for the public vote.
France, like the UK, fell for Portugal’s charms, giving it 12, but the French jury has no points for us. By contrast, Italy gives us 10, with Switzerland topping its jury vote. Nemo is now pulling ahead of the competition.
It’s the Finnish jury next and it gives seven to its neighbours Sweden, six to Ireland and 12 to, no surprises, Switzerland, which is “flying it”, observes Marty Whelan. Certainly, the EBU, which is headquartered in Geneva, would probably be happy enough to stage the contest somewhere down the road in 2025.
Portugal gives us 10 points after a generalised call for peace, then gets on the Swiss bandwagon with 12 for Nemo. We pick up another four points from someone, I’ve already forgotten who, while Iceland gives us seven.
At the moment the top five countries are Switzerland, France, Croatia, Italy and then Ireland.
Moldova has nothing for Ireland, which has now slipped to fourth in the jury vote. Still, RTÉ executives – and everyone involved in months of public funding negotiations to keep the lights on at Montrose – will not have fully exhaled just yet, I’d say.
The Greek jury gives Cyprus 10, bestowing its 12 points upon Switzerland, and we turn to Estonia, which is awkwardly still on zero. It gives us nul points and delights Nemo with another 12.
There will be no spokesperson on air for the Dutch jury, executive supervisor Martin Österdahl explains to yet more hostility from fans in the arena, but we are told that the Netherlands has given its douze points to Switzerland. Ireland gets three from Austria, with the Austrian jury also rewarding Nemo with its top marks.
The Swiss are on a roll.
Anticipation mounts as the German jury notably fails to give its douze points to Switzerland. Might it be going Bambie’s way? No, they have decided Sweden deserve it. Armenia also gives us nul points, with its 12 headed for France.
We get a single point off Slovenia, which also gives 12 points to France, meaning Slimane has now overtaken Bambie in second place. Georgia is not feeling Bambie-friendly either, choosing Nemo as its top song. Switzerland, however, kindly gives us 10 points, while sending its douze points down to Greece.
Estonia is the only entry on nul points.
Remember this is just the jury vote. The public vote, which has equal weighting, could change everything.
Relief for the UK as it picks up its first points, an entire four from Australia, then Bambie is ecstatic as they receive their first douze points. Good morning, Australia.
We get seven from Denmark, which gives 12 to Switzerland, then we call in on Spain – the 13th out of 37 countries to deliver its jury vote – and we collect a nice 10 points, thank you very much, with Switzerland garnering yet another douze points.
Next up is Norway, which gives us nothing, but then Sweden might feel harder done by with just three. Who does Norway give its 12 points to? Well, it’s only Switzerland. I’m sensing a theme? Are you sensing a theme?
Azerbaijan gives Ireland 10 points and throws another 12 at Switzerland. San Marino has seven points for Ireland and also 12 for Switzerland. This means Ireland is in second place, with Nemo well out in front in the jury vote so far – a one-two placing for tonight’s non-binary participants at this early stage.
Malta chips in another douze points for Switzerland, with seven for Ireland, and we pick up eight from Croatia, which gives its 12 to Portugal. We get nothing off Albania, but Czechia gives Bambie seven, with its 12 going to Ukraine, which really was a lovely song when we heard it 793 hours ago.
The crowd in the arena boos as we hear from Israel. Unsurprisingly, its jury does not give any points to Ireland, with its 12 points going to contest returnees Luxembourg.
The presenters have a quick costume change, return to announce that voting has closed and then – as the announcement of some 37 national jury votes beckons – they check in with executive supervisor Martin Österdahl, who is roundly booed by the audience in the arena.
Before the Netherlands was disqualified, the script referred to him as Eurovision’s Europapa, a line that has since been cut.
We greet the Ukrainian jury representative first. Ukraine awards Ireland 10 points, while the UK offers up seven for Ireland. Ukraine gives its douze points to Switzerland, but the UK jury goes in a more unexpected direction, plumping for Portugal.
Luxembourg gives us nothing and presents its 12 points to Switzerland, which takes an early lead in the jury vote.
After some Abba-related comedy from the presenters, and a huge promo for the avatar-starring Abba Voyage, we are treated to the interval act that is Sweden’s 1991 winner Carola, its 1999 winner Charlotte Perrelli (née Nilsson) and Austria’s 2014 winner Conchita Wurst singing Waterloo.
Loreen is about to arrive now with some new material – her just-released song Forever is named after the length of time this show has been on for already.
This will blend into a reprise of Tattoo, her winning entry from Liverpool in 2023, which she will perform beneath some giant jellyfish tendrils and with nails that have gone past the talon stage to reach full claw.
I’ve seen this in the rehearsal, so I’m going to take the opportunity to get up off my Ikea sofa and rustle up some of my finest Swedish meatballs.
And it looks like we might have made it. Yes, it looks like we made it to the end.
Austria, which went first last year, is closing the show with the aid of singer-dancer Kaleen and the song We Will Rave.
Sample lyric: “When the darkness hits and we can’t be saved / We ram-dee-dum-dum-da, we will rave”
That’s pretty much the archetypal 21st century Eurovision lyric, no?
Kaleen removes first her hood, then her entire power-coat to reveal a gloved Bacofoil bodysuit and thigh-high boot combo so bright her dancers are all wearing some fairly serious visors to protect their eyes.
They throw her around a bit, she gives her scarily high ponytail a flick and there’s yet more insistence upon raving. This is the way Eurovision ends. Not with a whimper but a bang.
We have reached the penultimate entry and it’s France’s Slimane and his heartfelt – very heartfelt – ballad Mon Amour.
Sample lyric (translated): “Oh my love / Please come back to Paris / Do it for us, I am begging you / I promise, I’ve learned my lesson”
Watching this dry-ice-athon of a performance, I felt Slimane was doing a good impression of someone you would want to break up with very carefully indeed. These lyrics suggest someone has, in fact, already scarpered. But it hasn’t deterred him. He sings that even if his amour doesn’t come to meet him, he’ll still wait for them.
Slimane, wearing a shirt recycled from the Portuguese dancers’ face-coverings, delivers an intensity of emotion that most people only reach at about 3am after a bottle of red. He transmits it to us straight down the camera, and sometimes away from the microphone, with the occasional happy expression surfacing in the midst of his considerable anguish.
“Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you love me? Or not?” is the final wine. Sorry, line.
To Georgia, represented by Nutsa Buzaladze, who is from Georgian capital Tbilisi but lives in Miami, Florida and is here to perform the song Firefighter.
Sample lyric: “The ceiling is falling, the windows are burning / It’s getting harder to breathe / Can you hear me calling? I see ashes falling / I’m down on my knees”
Fire represents “all the negativity” that’s happening in the world, according to Nutsa, whose career began in 2011 when she took part in Georgia’s Got Talent.
She has since competed on Dancing with the Stars (in Georgia), The Voice of Turkey, the Russian version of All Together Now and last year’s American Idol, on which Katy “Firework” Perry compared her to Jennifer Lopez. J-Lo’s feelings about this are unknown.
I have nothing else to say about this slick yet generic entry into the Eurovision dance-pop canon, so I’ll finish by noting that Georgia has recently been gripped by mass anti-government demonstrations that saw protestors clash with police as they objected to a repressive, Kremlin-style “foreign influence” bill.
Woo-hoo, or should that be “wo-oh”, the favourites to win are up next. Prepare for the Euro-madness that is Croatia’s Baby Lasagna, aka Marko Purisic, and the raucous Rim Tim Tagi Dim.
Sample lyric: “Gonna miss you all, but mostly the cat / Gonna miss my hay, gonna miss my bed / But most of all, I’ma miss the dance / So come on y’all, let us prance”
Who said songs about youth emigration can’t also have a sense of humour? Not Baby Lasagna, who has turned his take on young people leaving Croatia into a slice of Eurovision glory, with crochet balaclavas, a brocaded waistcoast, elbow dancing and a rocky beat that propels Rim Tim Tagi Dim – the name he gives to a fictional folk dance – to wild applause in the arena.
Bonus marks for the lyric “meow, cat, please, meow back”. Your cat doesn’t care, Mr Lasagna – but Europe loves you. The question is, how much?
After an interlude featuring Malin Åkerman, her mother-in-law and some Bucks Fizz-style skirt removal – plus a plug for the Eurovision 2024 DVD – it’s time to embark upon the home stretch. The Slovenian Mother of Dragons, aka Raiven, is here to sing Veronika.
Sample lyric (translated): “I hid in the river / And went into the silent night / With loud steps / Voiceless cries for help”
Raiven’s electro-opera was a surprise qualifier in Ireland’s semi-final on Tuesday, although maybe it shouldn’t be seen as too much of a surprise given it’s about a witch and witches are clearly having a moment.
The Veronika she is singing about was apparently the first person to be put on trial for witchcraft in Slovenia, back in the fifteenth century. It did not end well for Veronika. Will the night end well for Raiven? Probably, as the green room beckons and there are no witchfinders there.
Onto former bookies’ favourite Switzerland now with Nemo and their song The Code, which they co-wrote.
Sample lyric: “Somewhere between the zeroes and ones / That’s where I found my kingdom come”
Binary codes, in computer processing, are comprised of zeroes and ones, but Nemo is singing here about finding their non-binary identity so they are “somewhere between”. They also appear to be somewhere quite perilous, running around a massive satellite dish-shaped prop. Well, that’s what it looks like to me. Don’t break the equipment, Nemo.
Lugano in Switzerland was the site of the first Eurovision, in which just seven countries competed in 1956. Switzerland was also the first winner, with the late Lys Assia claiming victory via the French-language song Refrain.
Could it find itself hosting again next year? Nemo, dressed in a pink flamingo-inspired outfit, is serving up quite a bravura pop vocal performance, with dashes of operatic falsetto, so there’s a very decent chance.
We return to dance-pop now with Cyprus and the song Liar, performed by Australian Silia Kapsis, who is of Cypriot and Greek descent.
Sample lyric: “Should’ve known that you are a liar / But I looked the other way / Should’ve know that you’re a troublemaker / But you act too nice to hate”
A cautionary tale here from Silia as she bemoans the superficiality of the world we live in, which is represented in human form by the canny liar in her life.
Cyprus has never won Eurovision and was robbed in 2018 when Eleni Foureira’s Fuego finished the runner-up to Israel’s Netta and her tedious Toy. There’s just no accounting for the tastes of, well, all of Europe sometimes.
Liar is no Fuego, but I both admire and envy Silia’s energy. She’s the youngest participant tonight at just 17, which explains it.
Armenia is next with the song Jako, as performed by the duo Ladaniva, who are singer Jaklin and multi-instrumentalist Louis. He appears to have brought a trumpet not yet crushed by Apple.
Sample lyric (translated): “I’m a free girl / I will dance, and you will watch / La la lai lai lai, la la la la (Jako!)”
This traditional-sounding song, which runs the gamut from jaunty to frantic, is about becoming a free spirit and finding your true calling. Jaklin and Louis, who first met at the Conservatoire de Lille in France, make music that blends Armenian folk with sounds from the Balkans, India and elsewhere.
As Jaklin makes eyes at the camera and the rest of the band jump sideways in sync, Louis switches from the brass to some hardcore recorder miming – no live instrumentation is permitted at Eurovision.
Don’t leave your trumpet unattended, Louis. If its latest advertisement is anything to go by, Apple will be along in a minute to mangle it into an extremely thin iPad.
My feeling about this sort of thing is that it will be a sad day when Eurovision has no place for this sort of thing.
Portugal’s turn now with the fado-style song Grito, meaning “scream”, performed and co-written by Iolanda.
Sample lyric (translated): “I’m free falling / I’ll let you know when I get there / I surrender myself / Little by little”
Coincidentally, this is what I said to myself the last time I embarked on a trip to my local Re-turn machine.
I’ve tried to get a little more purchase on Grito since the semi-final, but it still feels sort of watery and a little too minimalist – even the arena’s LED cubes are just left a pure white.
Watching Iolanda’s dancers, who are wearing white gauze over their faces, makes me wonder why we are so often not allowed to see the faces of dancers these days. Do dancers ever get sick of being transformed into faceless, anonymised bodies? They must do – though maybe it just saves them time in the make-up chair.
Finland is up next with Windows95man, aka the visual artist and DJ Teemu Keisteri, who alongside his singing co-writer Henri Piispanen brings us No Rules!
Sample lyric: “No rules / In the heat of the night, in the thrill of the fight / I don’t even care what’s wrong or right / It’s how I life my life”
Oh, it is, is it?
After hatching from a giant egg, Windows95man unfurls an anarchists’ charter of the kind I could not possibly endorse, especially as he has combined it with an old-school comic pretence of nudity. He appears to be a health-and-safety pest, too, with a fondness for spraying sparklers out of both hips and just generally careening around the place.
Sandals with socks, that’s absolutely fine – the rest of this Finnish eccentricity, not so much.
Serbia is next up with Ramonda, performed and co-written by Teya Dora.
Sample lyric (translated): “Everything is quiet just like under the water / I scream, but the sound doesn’t come out / There is a white flare behind the mountain / I cannot see the end of it / This is the road for wounded”
More cheery Eurovision fare here as Teya, surveying a barren landscape, laments the absence of ramonda flowers – a symbol of hope and new beginnings that is worn in Serbia to commemorate Armistice Day, poppy-style.
The UK has yet to send a poppy-themed Eurovision entry, so far as I am aware, but I’m sure the last remaining Tory MP will soon be demanding that the BBC do so next year.
At the climax of this slow-build Serbian ballad, Teya climbs back to her rock as a purple flower blooms on the visuals above. The ramonda is blossoming again – unlike, say, media freedom in Serbia.
Viva Italia now with La Noia, as performed by Angelina Mango. She did not get her outfit at Mango.
Italy, once the second favourites to win, has dropped precipitously in the betting in recent days, but though I see why La Noia might not offer enough substance or distinctiveness to some voters, I remain loyal.
This is the entry tonight that I am most likely to listen to beyond the context of Eurovision and its streaming statistics suggest I am not alone in this.
Sample lyric (translated): “Nothing left but to laugh in these burnt-out nights / A crown of thorns will be the dress code for my party”
Clad in foliage-embroidered bodysuits, Angelina and her dancers deliver La Noia, which means “boredom”. This is to be alleviated, naturally, by dancing to a cumbria rhythm.
Their backdrop is all roses and thorns, but that’s not the context in which I hear this song. I hear it with the backdrop of a cocktail bar at which I am perched, post-swim, wearing a sundress, espadrilles and maybe one of those fabric hairbands that trail off to one side.
I’m thinking about where to go dancing on a hot night, not the flight home. I might not even have a flight home. Also, I’m half the age I am now and someone who actually enjoys both cocktails and bar-perching.
La Noia, in short, is not just a vibe. It is the best vibe.
To Norway, and a song that has really passed me by until today, despite my best intentions to “learn” the Spotify Eurovision 2024 playlist. It’s called Ulveham and it is by the band Gåte, who like to merge folk music with metal and electronica.
Ulveham is a black-magic tale about a girl who is transformed into a wolf by her “evil stepmother”.
Sample lyric (translated): “She gave me the hide of a grey wolf / And forced me to go into the woods alone / And I would never be whole and good / Before I had drunk of my brother’s blood”
Stepmothers get a hard time, don’t they? I’m not one, but I feel their pain, always having to put up with these folkloric stereotypes.
It occurs to me that if I was to try to channel a witchy Bambie aesthetic for Halloween, the look I’d end up with would be much closer to that of Gåte’s lead singer – which is one way of saying that Norway has been out-magicked by Ireland tonight.
For balance, I will mention that I was at Norwegian trumpeter Tine Thing Helseth’s concert with the Irish Chamber Orchestra last night and she was wonderful.
The UK, smarting again after finishing second from bottom in a “home” Eurovision in Liverpool, has this time out recruited seasoned professional and still-current popstar Olly Alexander, who brings us his song Dizzy.
Sample lyric: “Make me dizzy from your kisses / Will you take my hand and spin me? / Take me back to the beginning again”
We are not starting over, Olly. Please.
There’s no doubting his performance skills, nor the BBC delegation’s staging prowess, as the singer-actor turned boxer and his dancers appear to make full 360-degree use of their dystopian gym locker room.
They’re not so much down bad crying at the gym as they are down bad defying gravity at the gym.
Sadly, after an all-too-brief Pet-Shop-Boys-y middle eight, the song itself doesn’t go anywhere interesting and leaves me feeling more confused than dizzy. Royaume-Uni, nul points? No, it deserves more than that. But the UK entry deserved more than what it got last year too.
Greece is the word now with Marina Satti singing Zari, which is Greek-infused pop enlivened by a traditional handkerchief-waving dance in the middle.
Sample lyric (translated): “Even if I stay alone / I will always be waiting for you / I’m trembling like a flame / Like a lighted up match / When the dawn comes / I pine away / I die alone if you are not here”
Well, at least try to wait until the end of the song, Marina.
Satti’s performance, which she delivers in a ballooning silver mini, is initially framed as a vertical social media video, which seems a shame when broadcaster SVT has that colossal stage right behind her. Its “ta, ta, ta” hook zips along Instagram reel-style, though it ultimately leaves me with much the same feeling as an Insta reel: that of having wasted my time.
Zari, which she co-wrote, means “dice”, but I’m not sure Greece will be having much luck tonight.
How do you follow Bambie Thug? The producers have decreed that the task should fall to Dons, representing Latvia with the song Hollow. But we’re not entirely done with Ireland yet as this is co-written by an Irishman.
Sample lyric: “Yeah, I’d rather let them dig my grave shallow / Instead of selling out to something so hollow, hollow”
Dons, who for fans of nominative determinism has the real name of Arturs Singirejs, penned this with Liam Geddes, who is from Mayo and based in Meath, and Swiss-based American songwriter Kate Northrop.
Geddes, who has described the song’s selection as “mind-blowing” and “a bit surreal”, first met Latvian artist Dons at a songwriting camp in Las Negras, Spain, in 2022.
Songwriting camp sounds fun, though Hollow is about being slowly killed by the emptiness of the world and trying not to be a hostage to your own insecurities, so maybe not.
Luckily, Dons soon finds hope in the darkness. And while Austria, who we will see later, has chosen raving as its preferred darkness coping method, Latvia has very much opted for the power-ballad approach, with Dons taking charge of his own destiny as he strides off a giant wheel prop to command the stage.
Wave your “crown the witch” tricolours now, it’s time for Bambie Thug and their horn-accessorised, electro-gothic number Doomsday Blue.
Sample lyric: “Avada Kedavra, I speak to destroy / The feelings I have, I cannot avoid / Through twisted tongues, a hex deployed on you”
Starting as they mean to go on, and with talons to rival Loreen’s, Bambie unleashes their spine-tingling powers on Malmö Arena.
I’ve seen Doomsday Blue described as polarising, which I’m sure is true. The pole I belong to is that it is a performing arts triumph of the kind Irish Eurovision entries have, frankly, not had a good reputation for pulling off over many years of non-qualification.
Plus, the contrast between their calmer melodic sections and their full screechy sorcery mode is fantastic.
I can never find any use for my old Flying Tiger candles come May, but Bambie doesn’t have that problem, with their stage-witchcraft unfolding in the centre of a candlelit pentagram before half-man, half-monster Matt Williams – Bambie’s friend and choreographer – emerges to help Bambie throw some ballet shapes against a lunar backdrop.
He then strips off their black feathers to reveal an inner layer inspired by the pink and blue of the trans flag. He gets no thanks for this, though, as he’s soon on the receiving end of an electrifying climactic curse.
Will the witch be crowned? They could finish last tonight and Bambie would still be an Irish Eurovision legend. “My heavens,” says Marty Whelan, commentating on RTÉ.
Song Nine now, which since 2016 has been the one in which BBC Eurovision commentator Graham Norton raises a glass to his late predecessor Terry Wogan, in a reference to Wogan’s sage advice not to drink too early on the night. He does so again, even though we are technically only eight songs in.
Anyway, it’s Estonia’s 5 miinust & Puuluup with (Nendest) narkootikumidest ei tea me (küll) midagi. Raise that glass and knock it back.
The clue is in the “narkooti” bit, with the title – which is the longest in Eurovision history – meaning We (really) don’t know anything about (these) drugs.
Sample lyric (translated): “Clouds and mushrooms, where are your filaments? / You turn my body on like a kitchen stove”
Hip-hop group 5 miinust and folk duo Puuluup have combined here to bring us this comic tale of Baltic drug denial as they valiantly try to convince raiding police that the drugs are not theirs and they can’t afford drugs anyway.
Sunglassed up like a mid-life stag night, they face-off on stage, collectively out-hop Lithuania and end the song on a high, unleashing a string of crowd-pleasing “hey, hey, hey, heys”.
After a short interlude with Malin, Petra and Sweden’s 1975 Eurovision host Karin Falck, Spain becomes the second of the “Big Five” we see tonight. It is represented by Alicante synth-pop duo (and married couple) Nebulossa with their song Zorra, which directly translates as “vixen” but is more often used in Spain to mean “bitch”.
This selection has duly proven controversial in Spain, though Nebulossa say they are trying to reclaim the word, which lead singer Mery Bas does 45 times throughout the song.
Sample lyric (translated): “If I go out alone, I’m the bitch / If I have fun, the biggest bitch / If I come back home after dawn / I’m even more of a bitch”
Like, I don’t think she literally believes she is a bitch? Maybe, just maybe, it is worth considering that what Mery is pointing out here in this well-received ditty is that sometimes it can seem as if women can’t win.
There’s nothing too try-hard about Zorra, as it goes – musically, at least – although Nebulossa’s (male) dancers do, as the BBC’s semi-final commentator Rylan phrased it on Thursday, “showcase some cheeky outfits”.
Yes, this means there are bum cheeks on display.
Moving swiftly along now to Lithuania’s Silvester Belt, who is up next with his song Luktelk, which translates as “Wait”.
Sample lyric (translated): “Am I still alive? / Do you still know who I am? / The sun isn’t coming up / Tell me, will you stay next to me?”
Silvester, who co-wrote Luktelk, says the song is about being trapped in the limbo between living and merely existing – surviving, not thriving. As you’re stuck in a wintry, sunless world, you start to wonder if you’ll ever be able to break free of the routines that dictate your life.
Unlike Isaak from Germany, however, Silvester appears to have – reluctantly – found a solution to this deep ennui. Is it quitting his job? No, it’s to slip into a bit of a boogie.
“I don’t wanna dance, but I have to dance,” says Mr Belt, as he and his coterie of dancers embark on a series of shoulder-bobs, plus a synchronised turning hop.
Luktelk is a bop. A sneaky-good bop.
We pass over the spot where the Netherlands was due to perform and it’s time for security personnel to go on extra alert, with Israel’s Eden Golan taking to the stage to sing Hurricane, which she does competently. There are audible boos on the broadcast, but also reports from journalists on site that some of the hostile reaction in the arena is being drowned out.
Sample lyric: “Hours and hours and powers / Life is no game, but it’s ours”
Israel’s original entry, October Rain, was rejected by the organisers because it was thought to refer to the October 7th attacks by Hamas.
Kan, the Israeli broadcaster, initially refused to change the lyrics, which might well have led to Israel’s non-participation – an outcome that almost certainly would have been better for both the EBU and tonight’s Swedish producers.
However, after an invention from Israeli president Isaac Herzog, October Rain became Hurricane, which was deemed an eligible submission “after careful scrutiny of the lyrics”.
So here we are: in Malmö, surrounded by protestors carrying banners reading “Eurovision Genocide Contest”, while the EBU crosses every finger and toe that Croatia or Switzerland win tonight and it is not destined for the worst-case scenario of Tel Aviv 2025.
Double-plaited singer Tali unfurls the song Fighter, duly ending Luxembourg’s 31-hear hiatus from the contest, which was originally triggered by a one-year relegation for finishing in the bottom seven.
The last time the country competed in Eurovision, it was held in Millstreet, where the stage was just a touch smaller and the visual effects did not quite stretch to the prowling big cats seen on the graphics here.
Tali, wearing purple and pink – which will help her camouflage herself with Eurovision colours should the need arise – has a versatile voice that veers between French and English and stays on the right side of appealing throughout this pleasant pop.
Sample lyric: “Come, I will never let you down / I know you’re a fighter / Hold in your heart the love around / You know you’re a fighter”
It won’t win, but I honestly wouldn’t hate it if it did. Welcome back, Luxembourg.
Guten Abend to Isaak, who is here representing Germany on the Eurovision treadmill with the song Always on the Run.
Sample lyric: “I am nothin’ but the average / Even though I’m special to some / I can’t refuse, I’m going under / No one gives a s*** about what’s soon to come”
Isaak Guderian, who co-wrote this mid-tempo, inner-demon wrestle of a song, is married to Loreen, but not that Loreen. (I wrote that before Graham Norton said it, okay.) He started writing songs during the pandemic, as opposed to just howling them in the middle of the night, like I did.
Isaak is a thoughtful type, as evidenced by the fact that he’s just left a little gap in his vocal where the word “s***” was meant to be, though I’m not sure that bin fire in his virtual hangout is super energy-efficient.
His huge voice and emotive face means I truly believe him when he sings that he’s “so sick and tired” and he “can’t do this anymore”. Big empathy, Isaak. Have I mentioned that I’m on Day Five of a 10-day working stretch?
Ukrainian artists alyona alyona and Jerry Heil are handed the poisoned chalice that is Song Two, with their song Teresa & Maria drifting a little in the betting in recent days but remaining a superior offering to most of what you will hear tonight.
Sample lyric (translated): “The pa-pa-path / Is winding and rocky / But you should know: your own happiness / Is in your hands”
Singer Jerry Heil, seen here in a shoulder-plated taupe dress, leads this solemn, yet enchanting tribute to Mother Teresa, the Virgin Mary and the resilience of Ukrainian women, which is augmented by the rapping skills of alyona alyona.
It coheres well. But given no song has ever won from this position in the running order, it can be assumed that the EBU neither thought Kyiv a possible host in 2025 nor fancied scouting around for an alternative.
Song One, and there’s much love and excitement in the arena for Sweden and their chosen ringers from over the border as Norwegian identical twins Marcus & Martinus emerge from their Holodeck to deploy highly forgettable dance-pop effort Unforgettable.
Sample lyric: “Her love is dangerous and I know it / It’s venomous ‘cos I feel it inside of me / She’s unforgettable”
“Her love is venomous” immediately places this entry in the “maybe you should get that checked out” sub-variant of Eurovision song, though to be fair Marcus – or possibly Martinus – doesn’t seem too unhappy about being laced with venom.
Unforgettable shows off the set’s huge LED cubes, while the underlying beat, when it is allowed to pulse along unencumbered by any vocals, has a decent throb to it.
But the main takeaway is that Marcus and Martinus will have plenty of time now to just kick back and enjoy the healing powers of the green-room snacks. One down.
There’s a blast of Abba’s Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! before our hosts, actor Malin Åkerman and actor-presenter-comedian Petra Mede – a Eurovision legend – arrive onto the cross-shaped set to the sound of The Winner Takes It All. They don’t say that the losers will be standing small, though, that’s not in the spirit of Eurovision.
Petra says the show will last approximately “three to eight hours”, a joke I would find funny in normal circumstances but not tonight given I’m toiling at these live-blog mills.
She says she will generously throw in the DVD of season three of Gilmore Girls along with the traditional glass microphone trophy, so it looks like the winner really will take it all.
In a break from tradition, and because all finalists – including the six pre-qualifiers – performed during the semi-finals, voting opens to the public now rather than after the last song. Will that speed things up later? My guess is no.
The EBU’s fanfare – the prelude to Te Deum by Marc-Antoine Charpentier – arrives to signal the start of Malmö 2024, with the show opening to the strains of Sweden’s Björn Skifs singing Hooked on a Feeling.
Who now? This was, in fact, the first Swedish song to top the Billboard Hot 100 in the US – which it did on the same day in April 1974 that Abba won Eurovision in Brighton.
Skifs makes way for the flag parade, which this year carries more suspense than usual. Who has made it to the final line-up? I mean, anything could happen here.
As the participants arrive on stage, they are soundtracked by a roll-call of Swedish pop including Ikona Pop’s I Love It, Ace of Base’s Beautiful Life and Lykke Li’s sublime I Follow Rivers.
Bambie marches on to Roxette’s The Look. Well, they have definitely got the look. But they are here and that’s the significant thing.
The police presence around the Malmö Arena is heightened tonight, with Israel’s participation remaining an ongoing security nightmare for the contest.
It is not, perhaps, the same level of security nightmare that will be faced by Paris 2024 organisers when they try to have their Olympic Games opening ceremony using a procession of barges down the Seine, but it will be a fraught evening in the Swedish city, nevertheless.
For the EBU, the big fear is not about what happens at protests outside the arena, it is about what happens inside it during the live broadcast. The contest in Lisbon in 2018 was marred by a stage invader during the UK’s performance, although the British representative, SuRie, gamely reclaimed the microphone and carried on. The EBU will be hoping there is no repeat of anything similar tonight.
As for any booing that may occur, crowd volume is easy to suppress on a broadcast.
While all this is going on, Ireland remains fourth favourite in the aggregated odds quoted on Eurovisionworld.com to win tonight, after Croatia, Israel and Switzerland. France, Ukraine and Italy are next in the betting.
If Bambie Thug – the stage name for Bambie Ray Robinson from Macroom, Co Cork – does perform, they will do so with Doomsday Blue, a song they co-wrote with Olivia Cassy (“Cassyette”) Brooking, Sam Matlock and Tylr Rydr.
The impressive stage direction for the entry is by Sergio Jaen, the costumes are by Donegal fashion designer Mariusz Malon and the choreography is by Matt Williams, who appears alongside Bambie during the performance.
“The history book on the shelf / Is always repeating itself,” Abba sing on Waterloo, their career-launching Eurovision-winning classic from 1974.
Sometimes, it does feel that way. The 1990s was a decade when Ireland truly hogged the Eurovision, winning four times, with this haul including the delirium that was our three consecutive victories from 1992 to 1994. This took our total tally to seven, a record equalled only last year by Sweden. At the time, our winning streak was accompanied by much fretting about how RTÉ could possibly afford to host the thing, which was then a much more modest, one-night affair with no public voting, no social media and substantially less worldwide attention.
So, while Irish fans in Malmö have been chanting “crown the witch, crown the witch” in support of a surprise Bambie victory, it is fair to say that after a year of corporate governance scandals, Oireachtas committee hearings and licence fee revenue plunges, not everybody in RTÉ and I’m guessing extremely few people in the Department of Finance will want that to actually happen.
Still, though, it would be very funny.
There’s been an update on Bambie Thug’s position, which again references their objection to commentary on Israeli broadcaster Kan and the EBU’s response.
“Over the last few days I have raised multiple complaints to the EBU regarding instances I have experienced this week. Earlier today they confirmed to my delegation in front of others that Kan’s commentator had broken the rules of conduct during Eurovision Semi-Final 1,” they wrote.
“I have been patiently waiting to hear what action is set to be taken by the EBU following this rule break. I have since seen a statement by EBU director general Noel Curran which contradicts this earlier confirmation. I am still waiting for an official update from the EBU.”
Earlier, Curran – the former RTÉ boss who was executive producer of the Eurovision Song Contest in Dublin the last time Ireland staged the contest in 1997 – has reiterated the EBU’s position to Swedish broadcaster SVT that as Kan had not breached any of its membership rules in advance of this year’s Eurovision, it could not suspend it from the EBU – which would have barred Israel from the contest, as occurred with its former Russian broadcaster members, and therefore Russia, in 2022.
He added that he respected the protesters and that he was “not going to pretend this has been a completely normal Eurovision”.
It’s a festival of music, a pageant of joy and an international celebration of incredible songwriting in which eclectically dressed European fans come together to scream, whoop and weep in admiration, while every second of the show is parsed on social media in real time.
But enough about tonight’s Taylor Swift concert in Paris.
Over in Malmö, a tense week for the Eurovision Song Contest will culminate with the final vote-chasing performance of 26 countries – sorry, no, make that 25.
Dutch act Joost Klein qualified for the final with his party anthem Europapa, which had already staked its claim to both the best and worst song title of the night. But Klein has since been disqualified following an incident that took place yesterday involving a female member of the production crew.
The EBU said that while a Swedish police investigation took its course, “it would not be appropriate” for him to continue in the contest, adding that his behaviour towards a team member was deemed “in breach of contest rules”.
It also stressed that, contrary to “some media reports and social media speculation”, the incident “did not involve any other performer or delegation member” – this refers to the many assumptions that his non-participation in rehearsals somehow related to either Israeli representative Eden Golan or the Israeli delegation.
Dutch broadcaster Avrotros has branded Klein’s disqualification “disproportionate” and says it is “shocked by the decision”, which it has promised to “come back to” later. The Netherlands is still voting tonight, so it will be interesting to see what mood its jury representative is in when the time comes to check in on the Dutch result.
The Netherlands was due to perform fifth on the night, but the show will now skip from Song Four (Luxembourg) to Song Six (Israel).
Bambie explained their absence from today’s rehearsal via a post on Instagram soon after.
“Dear Coven, there was a situation while we were waiting to go to stage for the flag parade rehearsal which I felt needed urgent attention from the EBU – the EBU have taken this matter seriously and we have been in a discussion about what action needs to be taken. This means I missed my dress rehearsal – I am really sorry to the fans that have come to see me. I hope to see you on the stage tonight. #CrownTheWitch”
The organisers said they hoped that the “situation” would be “resolved shortly” and Bambie would appear as planned. Notably, the Cork artist has posted other Eurovision content on their Instagram story since, including information on how to vote.
Earlier in the week, commentary on Israeli broadcaster Kan translated on behalf of RTÉ included the remark that “now is the time to get your children away from the TV screens, because we are about to see the most scary song of the night” and another in which they observed that “they [Bambie] also like to speak negatively about Israel”, adding “prepare your curses”.
Bambie has told RTÉ News’s woman in Malmö, arts and media correspondent Evelyn O’Rourke, that there is “a lot more anger and drive in me now”.
Previously, at the press conference after their semi-final performance, Bambie also revealed that the EBU had asked them to remove Ogham writing on their body that spelled out the words “ceasefire” and “freedom for Palestine”.
So far, the organisers have been fighting a losing battle in their zero-tolerance approach to references to Gaza appearing on stage. On Tuesday, Swedish singer Eric Saade was criticised by the EBU and an executive at this year’s host broadcaster, SVT, when he wore a keffiyeh – a Palestinian scarf – around his wrist, having been invited by SVT to perform at the start of the show.
Saade, who has Palestinian heritage, said he had wanted a way of “showing a part of my origin” and never thought it would be deemed “a political symbol” by the EBU. “In my eyes, it’s just racism,” he said.
Indeed, you don’t have to be boycotting the contest to conclude that policing people’s ethnic identities in this way is both deeply unfair and obviously unsustainable.
Bonsoir and welcome to The Irish Times live blog for the grand final of the 68th Eurovision Song Contest – yes, this event is so old, it predates RTÉ television. Will Europe “crown the witch” and – courtesy of Bambie Thug and their song Doomsday Blue – give Ireland a shock eighth win and its first since 1996?
Stranger things have happened in Eurovision history. Stranger things may also happen in Malmö Arena tonight. Expect all kinds of everything as Ireland is due – I say, due – to compete in the Saturday showpiece for the first time since 2018 and Sweden hosts the most fractious contest yet.
Amid tensions and protests prompted by the inclusion of Israel in light of its ongoing assault on Gaza, this will go down as a discordant, uncomfortable Eurovision even if tonight’s telecast passes off without further trouble.
Bambie missed their final rehearsal this afternoon, saying there was “a situation” that they felt “needed urgent attention” from the European Broadcasting Union (EBU), which is the alliance of public service broadcasters that organises the contest. They told their “coven” of fans on social media, however, that they hope to be on stage tonight.
While we wait to see if they do perform, I’ll be recapping the latest controversies (including the disqualification of the Netherlands after an incident involving a member of the production crew), but also churning out some more happily trivial Eurovision factoids, wondering why so many of this year’s songs are about overcoming inner demons and assessing Bambie’s chances as they unleash one last hex.
Then, when this bizarre tapestry of television shimmers on to screen at 8pm, I’ll assess the efforts of the 25 remaining performers, from favourites Croatia to a chasing pack of contenders that, as it stands, includes Ireland. This will be followed, blood circulation permitting, by a bid to keep up with all the various douze points until we have a winner shortly before midnight.
So, if you’re minded, catch up on my semi-final live blog from Tuesday, settle back on to your Ikea sofa, rustle up your finest Swedish meatballs, open your portal to Malmö and succumb to the kaleidoscopic spectacle that is the Eurovision Song Contest.
Boom-bang-a-banging reads:
- Bambie Thug: ‘It would be amazing for Cork if Cillian Murphy has the Oscar and we have the Eurovision’
- Eurovision 2024 final: When does Ireland’s Bambie Thug sing, can they win, and which are the hardest countries to beat?
- Jennifer O’Connell: Bambie Thug’s quiet protest was more effective than any Eurovision boycott
- The Irish Times view on the Eurovision Song Contest: not just four hours of kitsch
