Eurovision song contest 2026 – live | Eurovision 2026

Time for Australia, who have sensibly decided that if you’re going to do Eurovision, you may as well do it properly. Cue early-noughties icon Delta Goodrem, with by far the biggest ballad-to-banger transformation of the night.

Ever since Dami Im was royally mugged in 2016, Australians have been understandably cautious about whispering “we could actually win this.” But honestly? This could genuinely win this.

The staging is fabulous – please keep an eye out for the lifting platform at the end, apparently previously used by Beyoncé, because Eurovision loves nothing more than borrowed prestige. Delta sounds phenomenal, and I’m even willing to forgive the slightly clunky “when we eclipse” metaphor, largely because they’ve distracted me with extremely pretty lighting.

Ukraine have still never failed to make a Eurovision Grand Final, and this thunderously dramatic power ballad was never going to end that streak. It’s no Wild Dances, but LELÉKA (caps lock DRINK) has an absolutely belting voice and understands the Eurovision assignment completely.

There’s also a sustained note that appears to last for roughly the length of a domestic flight – allegedly 28 seconds, which must be a Eurovision record. I’m less convinced by the “outfit accidentally introduced to a shredder” aesthetic, but it does give the wind machine something to really get its teeth into.

Classic Ukraine, honestly. Big vocals, huge drama, zero fear. Enjoyed that enormously.

If you’re Greek, you’re probably already very excited about this. If you’re not, stay with me, because this is a genre-busting fever dream that somehow mashes up Gangnam Style, Crazy Frog and Santa Baby, drops the whole thing into a video game universe, and tops it off with a tiger hat and furry moonboots.

‘Ferto’ means “bring it” in Greek, which you will now know forever, because Akylas says it (by my count) 82 times over the next three minutes. This is essentially four cans of Red Bull in Eurovision form, so brace yourselves.

Update from Martin: this had easily the best reception in the hall so far. Definitely a fan favourite.

First things first, Nân means ‘mother’ in Albanian, and this song is a moving cultural tribute to the Albanian diaspora and all the mothers left behind.

It’s high drama from start to finish, with a choral backing track that all gets a bit O Fortuna. I love it, and the English subtitles are helpful, thank you Albania. During Thursday’s second Semi-Final they were in Times New Roman, but somebody’s now updated them to Calbri or something less visually annoying. I dearly wish I had been in that meeting. ‘What about Comic Sans?’ ‘Absolutely not.’

This was a surprise qualifier on Tuesday, to most of the fandom, anyway. Not to me, because I kept the faith. Belgium do cool, understated pop extremely well, and this is definitely one of the more contemporary-sounding songs in this year’s line-up.

It has that slightly aloof, “too chic to try too hard” energy that Belgium specialise in (see also Loïc Nottet from 2015), and it works. Apparently it’s not actually about dancing on ice, there’s some kind of metaphor going on about the slippery perils of love. Exactly what that metaphor is remains between ESSYLA (caps lock drink) and her therapist, but it’s sassy and I like it.

Only one boot, so half a drink. Nope, no idea either.

Time for Israel’s Noam Bettan to perform, and as in recent years, his appearance comes with some controversy around Israel’s participation in Eurovision. This year that’s led to Spain, Ireland, Iceland, Slovenia and the Netherlands sitting things out, which is clearly not a conversation that’s going away any time soon.

28-year-old Noam is French-Israeli and sings in Hebrew, French and English, and to my ear the string arrangement makes it feel closer to something France might send than Israel’s usual style. We haven’t seen backing dancers for Israel since Noa Kirel in 2023, but Noam has five, all in boots so DRINK. Also mirrors, so double bingo.

Next up it’s time for Germany, which this year has confidently picked up the Fuego baton and delivered a catchy girl bop complete with extensive hairography, bass-heavy dance break and mandatory ‘fire’/‘liar’ rhyming arrangement.

In a bold, subversive move, Sarah Engels has resisted adding ‘desire’ to the Eurovision lyric bingo, but does gift us: “Like a vampire, you hide and come out at night.” Which feels like a missed opportunity, because plenty of things hide and come out at night. Owls. Hamsters. “Like a badger” was right there. Call me next year, Germany.

This is fun and bouncy and very Eurovision, and also flames, boots galore and a dress reveal, so drink freely. I enjoyed that, and if you didn’t, you’re a liar, liar.

Am I allowed to have favourites this year? *checks contract* Yes, apparently I am, and we’re opening with one of them.

Før Vi Går Hjem means “before I go home,” and it’s a pulsing three minutes of Danish dance, complete with a very polished routine – Søren’s musical theatre background is doing a lot of heavy lifting here, in the best possible way. It’s giving Yungblud in Olly Alexander’s sweaty box circa 2024, and it’s easily one of the more contemporary tracks in this year’s contest. Going first isn’t ideal, but someone has to, and this is a very solid way to start the show.

Also our first clothing reveal, and it’s a quite sexy fishnet top. DRINK.

Tonight’s presenters are terrible called Victoria Swarovski and Michael Ostrowski. Victoria Swarovski is a TV presenter, entrepreneur, model, designer and singer, and also a member of the actual Swarovski family, so expect an evening of increasingly sparkly wardrobe changes.

Ostrowski is a film and TV actor and popular presenter, who has spent the entire week in variations on the same 1970s blue polyester outfit, for reasons known only to him.

As per Eurovision tradition, they will somehow manage to be both wooden and cheesy at the same time. Normally I’d say we wouldn’t have it any other way, but after this week’s semi-finals I found myself yearning for Hazel Brugger and Sandra Studer. Or Petra Mede. Or, frankly, the slow release of death.

In case you hadn’t noticed, this year’s contest is in Vienna, or Wien if you’re a local. It’s a city of music and culture, and for one week only, also Eurovision. Last time Vienna hosted was in 2015, after Conchita Wurst’s legendary win. That was the 60th anniversary, and we’re now back in Vienna for the 70th. If you’re wondering why that maths isn’t mathing, it’s because the 2020 contest never happened. You’re welcome.

2015 was also the last time I didn’t spend Eurovision week in the host city. But I’m not experiencing FOMO at all and am ABSOLUTELY FINE.

The opening flag parade was in full swing, but has inexplicably been paused halfway so JJ can sing Wasted Love. This version is a dance remix, which I’m enjoying very much.

Oh, the flag parade is back on. Do keep up, everyone.

We open with a VT featuring the paper boat from JJ’s winning performance last year. It’s on some kind of interminable journey from Basel to Vienna, which is technically only about 500 miles so I don’t know what all the fuss is about.

It arrives at the Wiener Stadthalle to find JJ performing with the ORF Symphony Orchestra in front of 10,000 excited fans, including our very own Martin Belam! Have the best night, Martin.

Are we all ready? Cue Te Deum, and let’s get this show on the road!

It wouldn’t be Eurovision without a vaguely irresponsible bingo-based drinking game, so take a sip (or a fistful of Pringles, should you prefer) for any occurrence of the following:

• Mirrors

• Clothing reveals

• Fire

• Knee boots

• A dance break that arrives before the first chorus

• Someone lying dramatically on the floor

• Interpretive dance by men in mesh

• Artists who style their names entirely in capital letters, for no apparent reason

Please drink responsibly, pace yourselves, and remember: Eurovision is a marathon, not a sprint. Unlike Finland’s staging, which is very much a sprint.

How are we all celebrating this evening? As per time-honoured tradition, it’s just me in my pyjamas with a plateful of finger food and a sleeping labrador. I don’t drink much these days, but I might have a glass of Grüner Veltliner once the scoring begins. Please share in the comments, so I can live vicariously through your snack selection.

I’ve been in Vienna since Thursday and it has been Eurovision all the way. I went to a watch party on Thursday night for the second semi-final, where Antigoni’s Jalla for Cyprus really got the crowd excited. A few Brits tried to get a sing-a-long going for the chorus of Look Mum No Computer but the lack of enthusiasm in the room suggests Sam Battle might have a hard time with the public vote.

On Friday I went on a behind-the-scenes tour at the venue, and really if you’ve never been to Eurovision before the scale of it is just incredible. I saw all the props lined up ready for the changeovers – they only have 42 seconds between acts to reset the stage – and got to sit down on in the couches in the green room.

As for the rest of tonight’s line-up, I am a big fan of Lithuania’s Klaus Nomi-esque look from Lion Ceccah, and Croatia’ tattooed ladies Lelek have something hauntingly medieval about them. Greece’s fun if irritating entry, Ferto, has a lovely little breakdown where it goes all 8-bit like it has been recorded on an old Nintendo GameBoy while Satoshi’s Viva, Moldova! is an energetic bop that will liven up the show without coming anywhere near winning.

Evening all, and welcome to this year’s Eurovision song contest grand final liveblog! After five years working backstage at actual Eurovision, I am BACK on my liveblog sofa to guide you through tonight’s Viennese whirlwind of glitter, drama and pyrotechnics.

And as an added bonus, your usual host Martin Belam is inside the Wiener Stadthalle watching tonight’s show live, bringing us invaluable sparkly-boots-on-the-ground insight into what’s actually going big in the arena, as opposed to what Eurofans are angrily typing in all caps online.

Are you ready? Kick-off is at 9pm, so grab snacks, drinks and any emotional support sequins you may need, and strap in for a long but hopefully joyful night of Eurovision nonsense.

Yaaaaas Eurofans. We are SO back.