Eurovision 2025 Preview/ Gossip

The hits, the misses, the Finnish dominatrixes, and the UK's Bridgerton-babes.

Eurovision is two months away, just four sex parties in gay years. Brace yourselves as Europe (remember her?) plus Australia (look, she’s lonely, just let her join in) and a tantalising cabal of salt plain postcodes and Italianate concepts (San Marino - ah yes, that famous nation) send their most vocally daring, instrumentally devilish and cosmetically dishevelled musical has-beens (or might-bes?) into a gruelling, rhinestoned, slaughterhouse of “song”! And then there’s the lovely heart-warming results section where we get to glimpse happy people who live in nicer places than Nuneaton. Armenian Claudia Winkleman - I love your work!

Politically corrupt, unwaveringly gay, and reassuringly mathematical, Eurovision is always the BEST night of the year - a global celebration of silver nylon, spreadsheets and botched botox.

Oh how we pity straight men in their flat-roofed pubs watching football week-in week-out, the ball dribbling along endlessly into eternity, every match more or less the same, drinking pint after pint, until they die, and not a boob job in sight. NO! Eurovision is what a competition should look like. Three minutes each - one bad dress - a botttle of champange and a bag of cocaine. And that’s us done for the year. Darling, we’re busy, too many competitons is bad for the aura. But Eurovision - let me clear my diary and make a space. Azerbaijan, I’m all yours honey - sing to me like one of your modern slave girls!

Held together by Finnish eyelash glue, smouldering Albanian folklore, a Spotify-stream fever dream of strangely haunting melodies with a “I guess you could call this house?” beat, what isn’t there to love? And don’t say Israel, I’m saving that rant for paragraph 15 when it’s only my best friends still reading.

First things first: any drama aside from I****l? Well, yes, duh… Hungary left the contest, since their homophobic leader Viktor Orban can’t handle the show’s sparkly diamonté threat, announcing that the show is no longer suitable for families (Come on Viktor, we all get intimidated by a 26” male waist, just pour yourself a wine dear, have a double vodka goulash, you’ll live.) I love how ‘families’ are always pitched as something separate to us. We all have families bitch. Where do you think gays come from? Kinder Eggs? I got my entire family to catwalk to Right Said Fred on boxing day in gowns made out of bin bags and they loved it. Stop using “families” as an excuse to dictate.

Moldova dropped out of Eurovision after Ladbrokes gave their song 200/1 odds (and Labrokes were being generous there too) Bosnia said it’s getting too expensive to take part, meanwhile Belarus and Russia are still on the naughty step, but Israel can still take part because 50,000 Palestinian deaths is fair retaliation apparently. Montenegro stepped down after it emerged that their song wasn’t actually new (Eurovision songs have to have been performed for the first time within the previous 12 months) Even though all Eurovision songs sound more or less exactly the same, copying is fine, but a song that is 13 months old, are you kidding? Gay mafia says: “NO BABES, DO SOMETHING ELSE FFS”

So what can we expect from Eurovision 2025? I’ve watched all of the songs on YouTube too many times that so you don’t have to (although I highly recommend it)

THIS YEAR’S EUROVISION TRENDS

Chaotic-Strobey-Dance-Bangers. Germany, Belgium, Iceland and Finland are all sending 90s-infused dance tracks or happy hardcore tunes, think Gala/Faithless/Sash/Ultrabeat, lots of euphoria, dry ice and sunglasses. This year’s Eurovision has less heels and more trainers as baggy jeaned Gen Z take us back to a time that they don’t remember themselves but seem keen to recreate.

Needy-Falsettos. Belgium is giving us a power bottom crying in the smoking area, meanwhile Austria’s song can only be heard by dogs. High-pitched is an official Eurovision cliché because it’s a good way to get marked up by the jury. The world is at war, we’re all feeling the broligarch turmoil, forest fires and social media burnout… This year’s Eurovision is a war cry for change. But isn’t it always? Whiney gays - keep doing your thing babes, I’m just popping out for a cigarette.

Witch-Pop-MILFs. While this year’s contest is a little thin on Poundshop Shakiras and Knock-Off J-Los, normally two failsafe stockpiles, we do have some options when it comes to shiny black hair. Albania could be an advert for Rizzla, while Justyna over in Poland looks like she’s the hired stripper on Snape’s stag-do. Ten years ago Eurovision was stuffed with Gaga Melanias, but nowadays it’s grungier, we’re getting bus garage Dua Lipas. Give it two more years and Eurovision will be BRAT.

Sisterhood is big. Think “feminism” but with less politics and more argan oil, think Spice Girls goes to Pure Gym, Yes, girl power is back, but this time with added cucumber water and a skin routine. I particularly love Latvia’s entry which looks like a preview for Herbal Essences The Musical. The UK have also sent a new girl group, Remember Monday, who look like an advert for Boots… more on that below.

Novelty-Songs-With-Irony-That-A-Teen-Could-Grasp. This year is the first year in which the semi-finals are judged solely by a telly vote, and so artists are having to do something that doesn’t always come naturally to them - think about what people want. For Sweden this translates to doing a stupid repetitive novelty song about being in a sauna. It will do brilliantly of course. Here in the UK we don’t need to worry about semi-finals because we pay more money to skip them, a seemingly kind gesture that only serves to further underline our unpopularity in the contest.

JACK’S TOP 10 EUROVISION SONGS - 2025

1 - FINLAND

Come for the komme, stay for the latex. Vikram is my diva!

2 - BELGIUM

Twunk does first double drop in Brussels smoking area. Good luck, babes.

3 - UKRAINE

I would glady watch this band live if they tour. The artistry is startling.

4 - UK

Cath Kidston LIVE at G-A-Y. Who doesn’t love a slice of Bake-Off Pop?

5 - POLAND

MILF-O-CLOCK! Edge me with sorcery, spank me with your Warsaw bus pass.

6 - GERMANY

Crystal Castles covered in currywurst. Take my euros. U-Bahn if you want to, but this lady is not for Bahning.

7 - LATVIA

Death by Radox

8 - ALBANIA

A spoken word interlude? Come thruuuu on your organised crime horse trap, yaaass.

9 - ESTONIA

My Tommy Cash crush runs deep. Pop3 let’s go.

10 - MALTA

Best to put them in here, you never know if the Maltese overlords are watching.

NOW LET’S TALK ABOUT THE UNITED KINGDOM AND NEW GIRL GROUP REMEMBERING MONDAY:

So this year we are bringing a kind of Saltburn Sugababes triptych of West End starlets called ‘Remember Monday’ to the Eurovision Song Contest. Few people in Britain have ever seen these girls before and once again it seems Adele is busy. They are beautiful, smiley and can certainly sing, albeit in a loud strident stage school kinda way. I genuinely quite like the song ‘What The Hell Just Happened’, after a few listens it’s undeniably catchy and different. ‘What The Hell Just Happened’ is a summery pop-rock gem with power vocals and kooky pacing that serves “Kate Nash does Bridgerton” with hints of Brian May on the lead guitar (yes I did apparently just type that). You know what - the rest of Europe seems to love it when England goes all out “English”, and this song is certainly English. It’s more English than Lily Allen banging Benedict Cumberbatch with an Emma Bridgewater strap-on. But the song is possibly lacking on English eccentricity, remember ‘Space Man’ by Sam Ryder (UK 2022) touched on Bowie, and the 2012 Olympics Ceremony (the last time that I felt overwhelmingly proud to be British) was absolutely batshit crazy. Remember Monday is safe, despite the Skins vibe that they’re going for.

Then again “Sainsbury’s playlist” seems to work well for the likes of Ed Sheeran and latter day Take That, so let’s see. Could it be seen as a little tone deaf singing about house party problems with inane lyrics like “someone’s lost a shoe”, while other contestants are literally being drone attacked at home? Maybe our blissful ignorance will come across as cute and kooky. A little palette cleanser between Eastern European trance anthems. Fingers crossed Remember Monday do alright with the jury on account of their vocals and instrumentals, and also scoop a few votes from Bake Off tweens. Bon chance!

EUROVISION’S HARDCORE ERA:

Eurovision has a sound to it, like the tracklist of a musical, and good Eurovision songs sit together well, they are cousins to each other, Eurovision is more of a genre than many realise, this contest isn’t about the best song - it’s about the best Eurovision song. Bit by bit, this sound shifts, like playing dominoes, it moves along, and micro genres come in and out like dolphins swimming in concord with the main Eurovision sound. A new Eurovision genre that is defining itself now, building on the sexy chaos of Kaarija (Finland 2023) and Maneskin (Italy 2021), is what I call “Eurovision Hardcore” - Fast, heavy, kinky, tongue-in-cheek, punky, high energy, think Sex Pistols meets Darude. Trembling beneath this Eurovision Hardcore wave is a new grunge strand too. Glittery gowns are becoming increasingly sparse. Now we are seeing more latex, gimp masks, exposed flesh and sweat as a younger generation repurpose Eurovision once again and use it as a playground for their ideas and fantasies. One of the many things that was bad about Olly Alexander’s performance last year repping the UK was that he tried to be edgy and queer in his messaging, but it was actually quite familiar and tame compared to what was on offer in the competition elsewhere, he sounded like Steps on a weekday and at the same time managed to look like he was trying too hard. It was transparently calculated test tube faggotry without the clout of a good song to underpin it. Today in Eurovision, radical, aggressive, sexually-forward, polyamorous straight artists are currently far more interesting - in my opinion - than anything gay on display, because Eurovision is already quite gay and has been ostensibly so for nearly two decades, it’s in its DNA, and gay men don’t want to see their lives on the stage as much as they want to see fabulous women who can have any cock they want, or want to see straight men who look like they might stray, or want to see old tarts living for the rave. To enter a heavily gay coded song into Eurovision and do well it needs to be an absolute banger or very funny. We’re seeing a fatigue, in other words, for on-the-nose queer politics. However, there are exceptions. Occasionally Eurovision will go crazy for an overwhelmingly sad lesbian ballad, but we’re talking short hair, glasses, a train driver license, the full she-bang, so to speak.

SO WHO WILL WIN EUROVISION 2025?

Well, Finland are already “the people's winner”. They’re sending a high energy dominatrix called Vikram who screams “ICH KOMME! ICH KOMME!” while trying her best to get pregnant with a microphone stand. This sex-positive bonafide floor filler is already getting comfy on Eurovision playlists around the globe. Please do stop reading this and have a watch! Link here.

If there’s one take away thought from this year’s Eurovision it’s “What can’t a Finnish dominatrix do?”, and the answer is “ei mitaan”! Yes, I just Google translated ‘nothing’ into Finnish (did I mention I’m house sitting for two cats right now?)

Austria could win based on their remarkably accomplished singing, plus the song goes a bit ravey at the end. JJ, he’s called, is trying to have his Viennese cake and eat it by sucking up to the judges and then going all techno in the last twenty seconds for the tipsy telly vote. It’s the bookies’ second favourite as I type, but it’s not a winner for me. While I appreciate JJ’s gift, and while there are undeniably hints of Conchita (who I adore!! Listen to her song ‘Trashing All The Glam,’ it sounds a bit like JJ), I find this particular song from Austria a little bit featureless, a little bit teacher’s pet, and too screechy for everyday use. It’s like a nondescript Sia ballad, but others will no doubt suck it up.

Albania is a dark horse this year, with a Kate Bush schtick and a spoken word element à la ‘Jig Of Life’ on Hounds Of Love. I hope Shkodra does well for Albania, it’s certainly one of this year’s best songs in terms of songwriting, vocals and quality. But it’s not Eurovision enough to win Eurovision.

Sweden’s novelty sauna bop is discretely very well mixed if you listen to it on headphones (as you’d expect from a song made in Stockholm, the global headquarters of music production), and the bookies are currently liking Sweden the most. I don’t like the song much myself, but it’s not about me sadly, I think Sweden may well win this year, but I hope that they don’t. The bookies are a little dated too in their views and underestimating the general public, Gen Z and how ravey they want to go. I’m a little baffled to be honest over Sweden’s song’s popularity currently.

Israel always scoop votes from pockets of devotees here and there, the song itself is a bit twee and breezy - noticeably so, in fact, and possibly a calculated choice seeking to soften the nation’s image with this soft focus portrait of easygoing westernised Israeli life. While I don’t think they should necessarily be banned from the contest (my personal mantra is that artists shouldn’t be blamed for wars) I do also think that politely bowing out while conflicts are resolved might have been a cooler look for Israel. Like, do you really need to win a song contest right now? Is that not energy and money you could spend elsewhere, like helping the victims in Gaza? But then again, I’m hardly one to talk as a Brit, isn’t it our nation’s leaders historically who forced all of these people to play musical chairs in the first place with their ham-fisted back-of-a-beermat maps of post-war Europe?

Estonia is a wild card with Tommy Cash, already a star of sorts, he has previously recorded music with Charli XCX and his work is conscientious, catchy and clever. Can this slightly smug comedic pop-art star do well with ‘Espresso Macchiato’? I doubt it, and yet a tiny part of my brain thinks - maybe, who knows. I could write an essay on Tommy Cash, I paid to see him live many years ago in Kentish Town, but in a Eurovision context - he’s an imperfect fit for the win, as I’m sure he also knows. TikTok, however, is no doubt going to be Tommy’s kingdom all summer with such a silly, contagious, groovey song centred around a simple pedestrian prop.

I wonder if the abundance of dance songs might all cancel each other out this year, creating a clear path for someone like France to soar across.

One of the best songs this year is Ukraine who now seem to be surviving on a cocktail of psychedelic drugs and 70s nostalgia if their musical output is anything to go by. They say great art comes out of great conflict, well “Bird of Pray” by Ziperflat is a beautifully arranged prog-rock revival, the song seems to be suspended in time with its Wishbone Ash harmonies, packed with intriguing twists, clever pacing and a throbbing flowering soundscape. Interestingly Ukraine’s entry was picked from an online submissions process, open for only a short window of four weeks, judged remotely by Ukrainian singer Tina Karol. To be eligible artists were not allowed to have performed in any “aggressor state” regions or to have any connections to Russia or music in the Russian language, and so Ukraine’s entry consequently has a distinctly unusual sound for Eurovision, it’s a marvellous effort and potentially a winner with the jury vote. I’m excited to see how they fair.

ABOUT JUSTYNA AND POLAND

I have a soft spot for Justyna, the 53 year old one-woman-Pussycat-Dolls, who is representing Poland this year with her all-chanting all-trapezing latex banger Gaja. She actually represented her country over 30 years ago when she was just 23 and the artist progression from innocent young industry lamb to “hold my vodka bitch, I’m coming for these boys” is a magnificent and empowering artist evolution. Listen to Gaja by Polish popstar Justyna, it’s really quite good, I’m absolutely hooked and have asked one of the drag queens that I work with Stealia Jobs to perform it in East London on Friday at SLAV 4 U, the Polish drag show that I produce, which she has agreed to *Rubs hands with glee*! Justyna Steczkowska is well worth a Spotify deep dive, she’s a really interesting artist with a sensational voice.

ABOUT “SERVING KANT”

Malta this year have titillated younger online communities by singing “SERVING C*NT” in their song, but technically it’s permitted as they're singing “SERVING KANT” which means ‘song’ in Maltese. As you can imagine, very clever and entertaining if you were nineteen, the song is bound to reap in a few tellyvotes from finger-clicking fan-clacking Gen Z queer clones and their nuclear-proof allies. I’m sure it will create a talking point at suburban Eurovision gatherings up and down the land come May. Eurovision has a history of wordplay, including one year a song tried to criticise Russia by singing “No Put In”.

AND FINALLY - WHY DO PEOPLE HATE THE UK?

Well, we’re the baddies aren’t we. Look - there’s a skull and cross bones on the back of my Off-White t-shirt. We gave birth to America, we fought in Iraq, we’re responsible for Simon Cowell and we voted to “leave” the continent that we’re literally in - the political equivalent of standing in the corner of a house party with your hands over your eyes going “lah lah lah I don’t like any of you!!!”. We’re insufferable pricks. We’ve played a major role in destabilising Europe and global peace, purely just so a handful of rich knob’eds can have more money to wank over. We sit here in our sandcastle built by slaves, leaving a trail of 1 Star reviews all around the globe because we don’t like the pillows in hotels, and yet we expect others to like us?

We don’t take the contest seriously enough by sending our best singers either. Although to be fair - time is money in the events industry and the best British singers are pretty fucking hufg and under lock and key. The manager of any reasonably large pop star would look at the three week sinkhole and point blank refuse. But what about our lower ranks of legit singers - La Roux, Nadia Oh, Annie. What about Bimini? She’ll do most things for a few drinks tickets, five grand and a hot top or two. Isn’t Dido bored at home with her white flags and tea going cold? Surely we can rustle up a treat for our fans on the continent? Can’t we buy Gabrielle a new eye patch and pop her in an Addison Lee to Switzerland? Or is that too out of reach?

When it comes to the UK not sending its best singers - there’s the issue I suppose of it being an actual song contest too. You have to actually sing in Eurovision, which deters some artists as they’re scared of screwing up in front of 150 million plus viewers and betraying the fact that their talent is *shock horror* gapingly limited. They don’t want to be hounded with bum note memes by bedroom terrorists. Even Bjork lip-synced at the opening of the Athens Olympics, when an audience is that vast, and you need to simultaneously dance, it’s nerve-wracking, Eurovision is a tough mission.

You are only allowed six people onstage, the song cannot be longer than three minutes, you are filmed from all angles relentlessly, it’s a minefield and a risk that established artists don’t need to take. This is also why you should remember to respect those who do take part, these total divas from small cities in Lithuania, Armenia, Poland, they are singing LIVE while dancing and being fully in the moment to a TV audience ten times bigger than the population of their home country, it’s a big task, to enter Eurovision that takes guts and vitality.

The Grand Final of Eurovision will be taking place in the small riverside city of Basel in Switzerland (nah, I’d never heard of it either) on Saturday 17th May, after last year’s trophy was snatched by non-binary Swiss starlet Nemo (the one on a giant spinning top who looked like a Bang On The Door card)

If you’re in London this coming Friday, 21st March, my friend Jonny Woo is doing a Eurovision themed disco at Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club in London, and before that it’s my Polish drag collective Slav 4 U - so come say hi. Event page here. or Search for ‘slav4uparty’ on socials.

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Read my musings on the psychological impact of entering Ru Paul’s Drag Race here. And please do share my work or send to friends if you like it, I appreciate it, thanks. J x