As the Eurovision Song Contest celebrates its 70th anniversary, some of its most memorable figures have shared their wildest stories, from winning with a fever to scoring zero points and dealing with unexpected fame.
Lordi: Winning with a Fever and a Giant Condom
Mr Lordi, frontman of Finnish metal band Lordi, who won in 2006, recalls the surreal experience. 'We entered the national contest just for free TV for our new album, never expecting to win. By the time we got to Athens, the international press was obsessed. We'd arrive in full costume, and journalists would shout, "Oh, fucking hell, that's Lordi!" We thought it was normal, but we were stealing the spotlight, and some were furious.'
On the night, Lordi was sick with a fever. 'That performance was one of the worst I've ever delivered. The costume is like a full-body condom of latex—so hot you have your own mobile sauna. I couldn't hit the high notes. Still, 20 years later, I'm displeased. Winning was crazy; Finns couldn't believe it. They named a square after me. But within a year, backlash hit. Metal fans thought we sold out, and for four or five years, we didn't play a single show in Finland. We were a joke. It was traumatic. Our bass player would walk out of interviews if Eurovision was mentioned. We wished we'd never gone. But now, outside Finland, we've only grown. I'm proud to be part of Eurovision history.'
Epic Sax Guy: From Meme to Presidential Medal
Sergey Stepanov, saxophonist of Moldova's SunStroke Project, placed 22nd in 2010 and 3rd in 2017. 'Going to Eurovision was a dream. In Moldova, everyone watches; cities go quiet as people vote. In 2010, we had no money, only energy and fun. Coming 22nd was amazing. Then my friend called: "You're a meme: Epic Sax Guy. You're famous in the US!" I had no idea what a meme was. Suddenly, we were the spacemen. One night, two guys tried to fight us, but when I said I'm Epic Sax Guy, one said, "Oh my God! I have the best sex to your music!" In 2017, just before going on stage, the president of Moldova called to wish us luck. We came third and received a medal, the highest honour for a musician in Moldova. Only five people have ever got it. When I played, the crowd was so loud I couldn't hear my sax. I knew my life had changed.'
James Newman: Scoring Zero Points but Gaining Chris Martin's Support
James Newman represented the UK in 2021 and became the second British act to score nul points. 'I was driving when the radio announced Eurovision was cancelled. It was brutal—we'd already premiered the song on Radio 2. But Covid. The next year, I was invited back. The quarantine tent was like "28 Days Later". The day before the final, I thought I'd win. A Dutch DJ remix had made me popular, and a fan vote put me number one. On the night, the arena cheered. But when they said "UK – nil points", it was tough. I'd had a few beers, so I jumped up and sprayed beer, and the room cheered. The next day, hungover at the airport, people were nice. On Monday, my manager said Chris Martin wanted to call. We FaceTimed, and he said, "Don't let it get you down—I know those moments." It was amazing.'
Eddie Friel: Father Ted Parodied His Song
Eddie Friel came 14th for Ireland in 1995. 'Two friends wrote a song and asked me to demo it. They sent it to the Irish Song Contest, and I performed it—and won. The press asked how I felt about Eurovision, and I said I wasn't going, but I went with the flow. Dublin was jaded because Ireland had won so many times. But the experience was brilliant. After the contest, I returned to my piano concerts. Years later, an Australian girl said Father Ted did a sketch of my song. The "My Lovely Horse" episode is definitely based on me. They copied a 70s track, just like our song had been accused of. And there was a storyline about RTE not affording to win again. I found it funny, not offensive.'
Graham Norton: The Garden Shed and the UK Act's Plane
Graham Norton, BBC commentator since 2009, reveals the quirks. 'The first time, it's overwhelming—it's the Olympics. Across Europe, they think I make barbed comments, but that's a Terry Wogan hangover. I say if it's good. It's harder to take the piss now because of annoying competence. I was rude about Italy one year, and it didn't go well. The best part is being there, in a tiny garden shed with a Perspex window, broadcasting from under the stairs. The big lesson: find out what plane the UK act is taking home and be on a different one. It's a long time with someone who's probably not happy. When I retire, that's my advice. When? I'll see. I can still hold my wee for four hours—no breaks. My retirement will be based on my bladder.'
