What would Eurovision be without sexually explicit songs? Australia’sMilkshake Man by Go-Jois quite self-explanatory; the standout is Finland’s Erika Vikman with Ich Komme (“I am coming” in German). Set to a four-on-the-floor beat and Eurodance instrumental, the track bursts with unrestrained hands-in-the-air energy. Vikman sings of pleasure, ecstasy and a state of trance with a vigour reminiscent of Norway’s 2023 entry Queen of the Kings, by Alessandra. Vikman hails from a family of Finnish tango musicians – her mother and sister are both active in the genre – and she herself embraced it early in her career. Still, back in 2020, her breakout hit was another sex-positive, disco-inspired anthem: Cicciolina, which celebrates the boldness and self-determination of the Hungarian-born porn star Ilona Staller.
Italy’s entries have always portrayed masculinity in a way that’s more layered than meets the eye, with performers and songwriters such as Cristiano Malgioglio, Renato Zero, and Ivan Cattaneo challenging machismo. In 2025, Lucio Corsi takes the baton with Volevo Essere un Duro (I wanted to be a tough guy), which challenges gendered preconceptions. Melodically, it has hints of 1970s glam rock and Elton John’s ballads, and it conjures a fairytale-like atmosphere that’s amplified by Corsi’s elven-like self-presentation. There’s a bit of a fairytale to his place here, too: he placed second at the Sanremo music festival – to determine Italy’s contender – but got to compete after the winner Olly declined to participate.
Upon learning about the bleak fate of the space dog Laika, Norwegian pop star Emmy tried to envision an alternate story: what if she had not been left to die in space but instead enjoyed dancing among the stars and comets? A delightful synthesis of Aqua, Grimes and a hint of Mario Kart’s Rainbow Road allows us to imagine her partying like it’s 1999. But why is a Norwegian singing about the Soviet space dog Laika representing Ireland, you may ask? Technically, Laika Party counts one Irish and three Norwegian songwriters. It had originally been submitted as a candidate to Norway’s national contest Melodi Grand Prix, only to be rejected by the broadcaster. Ireland’s Eurosong accepted it and it won both the national jury and the televote. Technicalities exist, and should be taken advantage of!
“Dear, you paid the price of me loving you,” goes the refrain of Mila, a heart-rending Balkan power ballad about the end of a toxic relationship. The artist is polymath Princ – frontman of the rock band Sisyphus, former karate champion, philologist and language instructor with a degree in Scandinavian languages, literature and culture, and Jesus in the 2020 Serbian production of Jesus Christ Superstar. While the lyrics portray a slighted man grovelling in the aftermath of the relationship – at one point calling his beloved’s new partner a “liar” – Princ’s delivery renders him tortured and sympathetic rather than pathetic.
Dolls and their agency – or lack thereof – are a great musical and artistic trope: look at the ballet Coppélia, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang’s Doll on a Music Box and Aqua’s Barbie Girl. The LuxembourgianEurovisionentry La Poupée Monte le Son (the doll turns up the volume) by Laura Thorn is a tribute to France Gall’s song Poupée de Cire, Poupée de Son, composed by Serge Gainsbourg, which won Eurovision 60 years ago. However, over a melody that combines strings, a four-to-the-floor beat and a vaguely eerie music-box melody, Thorn’s doll asserts “je ne suis pas ta marionnette” and lifts from Bizet to warn the man she addresses: “Prends garde à toi” – watch yourself.
Amore, spaghetti, mafia and espresso are the basis of Tommy Cash’s rap-dance ode to Italian cliches: “Mi like to fly privati / With 24 carati / Also mi casa very grandioso / Mi money numeroso.” It shares no thematic similarities with Sabrina Carpenter’s Espresso but rather DJ Ötzi’s après-ski anthem Pronto Giuseppe!, and in a year where a host of vaguely Italian-themed, AI-generated surrealist memes known as “Italian brainrot” are going viral, the nonsense of Espresso Macchiato fully embodies the zeitgeist. Cash co-wrote it with Johannes Naukkarinen, who gave us the metal-dance-pop fusion track and 2023 Finnish Eurovision entry Cha Cha Cha by Käärijä, in which the drink of choice is piña colada.
As the land of Max Martin and Abba, Sweden has historically sent legit – albeit perhaps too clean-cut – pop acts to Eurovision. This year they abruptly changed artistic direction, and along came KAJ, a Fenno-Swedish music/comedy group that credits the unapologetic weirdness of past Finnish acts for the inspiration behind their song, Bara Bada Bastu (let’s take a sauna), performed in the Vörå dialect and featuring that other traditional Eurovision sound, the folksy, pan-European accordion. (A line about dropping the soap was expunged from the final cut.) At this year’s Melodifestivalen – Sweden’s contest to name their Eurovision entrant – KAJ started as the underdog but ended up winning as well as topping Spotify’s global viral chart.
In 2001, age 10, Spanish singer Melody released the Euro-rumba tune El Baile del Gorila, complete with ape-channelling choreography: the start of a successful career in the Spanish and Latin-American market. In 2025, she’s representing Eurovision with the anthemic Esa Diva (that diva). It starts as an introspective ballad, similar to 2014 winner Conchita Wurst’s Rise Like a Phoenix, with Melody herself reminiscing on her career. Then the chorus hits and the beat drops, and she offers her own expansive definition of what makes a diva: not just someone who does not step on others in order to shine, or someone who can rise again “with more strength than a hurricane”, but a mother who wakes up early and a struggling artist. The thumping bass lines and lyrics celebrating a person’s own uniqueness irrespective of their life circumstances makes this 2025’s equivalent to Emma Muscat’s 2022 entry for Malta, I Am What I Am.
What would Bohemian Rhapsody sound like if it were composed for Eurovision by a Ukrainian alt-rock band in 2025? Ziferblat’s Bird of Pray feels straight out of a 70s rock opera; it balances various elements, including an all-female choir conjuring a sacred atmosphere, rock anthemics and the theatrics of singer Danylo Leshchynskyi, whose presentation echoes Bowie. The lyrics provide a sombre contrast to the high-octane production, telling the story of Ukrainians who have been separated by the war, with the titular bird conveying a message of hope – it’s a bird ofpray,not prey.
With an electronic base reminiscent of Sia and David Guetta’s collaborations, and with powerhouse, Adele-lite vocals that stave off predictability, Sissal’s Hallucination is a neatly packaged EDM-scandi-pop record that feels like a welcome 2010s throwback (akin to Carola’s Invincible and Loreen’s Euphoria). This is not a coincidence: Sissal’s inspirations are Norwegian singer Dagny and Swedish singer Robyn. Is it a bit safe? Sure, but high camp, sexual innuendo and joyous nonsense need a counterpoint to avoid the contest descending into caricature. Plus, the obsessive posters on Eurovision forums and subreddits swear she is best on stage.
The grand final of the Eurovision song contest 2025 will take place in Basel, Switzerland, on 17 May. The semi-finals take place on 13 and 15 May.