This weekend marked the end of the official Eurovision Song Contest pre-party season, with artists gathering in Madrid to perform at PreParty Espana 2025. For the past month, starting in Oslo, many of the class of Eurovision 2025 have spent their weekends criss-crossing the continent to sing at shows, meet with fans, create content for their socials, and—as the name might suggest—party.
After this year, with the Manchagen Eurovision Festival ramping up to become another big event on the pre-party circuit, it might be time to re-evaluate the purpose of pre-parties and what and who they might be for.
The artistic demands of the pre-party season can be immense. The author expresses a love for pre-parties, having attended both Amsterdam’s Eurovision in Concert and the full weekend of events at Manchagen. They left both events with a hoarse throat, sore feet, and a nourished soul. These events allow fans to meet old friends, make new ones, and find community with others who want to scream along with old Eurovision hits on the dance floor at 2 AM.
From the artist’s perspective, however, pre-parties can be incredibly draining. They fly to a venue, do press interviews, meet with fans, perform, and then jet off to the next gig, repeating this cycle while simultaneously preparing for the Song Contest, a show that will be watched by far more people than their pre-party audiences. While pre-parties help build buzz before the show, they can also be harmful. Performances at venues which are nothing close to what might be available at Saint Jakobshalle are scrutinized by fans, who analyze every detail in search of signs of weakness.
For instance, Germany’s Abor and Tynna faced heavy criticism after a playback performance of their song "Baller" at Eurovision in Concert due to Tynna’s illness affecting her vocals. They later cancelled their appearances at subsequent pre-parties, now facing increased scrutiny in Basel. The author wonders how many other artists may have fallen ill from the germs they’ve been exposed to while traveling across the continent, questioning if anyone wants to perform at the Eurovision Song Contest with the flu. Marcus and Martinus noted they were sick during Eurovision in Concert 2024, highlighting that this is not an uncommon issue.
To alleviate the pressure on artists, the community needs to reset its expectations of what pre-parties should be. The value of a pre-party should not be measured solely by the number of same-year Eurovision artists. Eurovision in Concert tends to lead the pack but offers a different experience, with a more family-friendly atmosphere, seated options, and a limit of one song per artist. This night in Amsterdam feels like an introduction to that year’s class of Eurovision artists for Dutch fans, in addition to being a gathering for highly engaged fans.
Other pre-parties cater to fans who have followed National Finals, like the London Eurovision Party, which featured Dolly Style. Some may even feature Eurovision-adjacent competitors, such as the Manchagen Festival, which showcased performances from drag queens, including local queen Banksie, to highlight the links between queer culture and Eurovision.
Moreover, pre-parties should focus on what they do best. Amsterdam offers a concert experience that is unique, while London’s pre-party guarantees memorable moments, whether it’s hard-nosed reporter Emily Maitlis introducing Marko Bošnjak’s "Poison Cake" or comedian Mel Giedroyc posing next to a pool of vomit. Building the personality of each pre-party makes it easier for fans to find the one that fits them best.
It’s also essential to remember the “party” aspect of pre-parties. Rather than viewing these events solely as opportunities to inform betting odds, they should be celebrated as chances to bring the community together. This is where fans can share their joy when Nina Zizic performs her 2023 synth-pop banger "Paranoiac!" In a year when Eurovision is held in an expensive location like Basel, a pre-party might be the only chance for fans to see friends from around the world.
As the author reflects on their experiences, they acknowledge that pre-party organizers need to understand that these events can be grueling for fans as well. Not everyone has the stamina of Justyna Steczkowska, who can spend hours on stiletto heels without breaking a sweat. After a pre-party, attendees often feel pain from standing for hours, rather than being hungover. Small adjustments, such as seating areas for those needing a break or food availability at venues, can enhance the experience for everyone.
In addition, too much Eurovision can indeed become overwhelming. Even with breaks scheduled, six or seven hours of performances is a lot to digest. As the pre-party season comes to a close, there’s a clear desire to celebrate everything about Eurovision, not just the events of 2025.
Looking ahead to 2026 and beyond, the author expresses gladness that pre-parties are thriving but emphasizes that the demand for more shouldn’t come at the expense of the health of artists or fans. The community should work together to ensure that the pre-parties are the right fit for those performing and attending, preventing burnout before the actual competition.
In related news, the Wiwi Jury has been busy reviewing the 37 competing songs in Eurovision 2025. Slovenia’s entry, performed by Klemen, titled "How Much Time Do We Have Left," received mixed reviews. Antranig praised its lyrical beauty and relatability, but criticized its repetitiveness, giving it a score of 4.5. Tom appreciated the heartfelt message about life and love, scoring it a 6. Meanwhile, William felt the song’s simplicity might hinder its chances, awarding it a 2.5. Ruxandra, however, resonated deeply with the song's message, scoring it a 10. After averaging the scores and removing the extremes, the Wiwi Jury settled on a final score of 4.57 out of 10.
As the excitement builds for the Eurovision Song Contest, fans and artists alike are reminded of the importance of community, celebration, and the joy that comes with music.
