u/Euromamaspeaks_

Semi Final Running orders of 2022

As we near this year’s contest (literally just under 48 hours as i write this), i want to talk about how I honestly think Eurovision fans underestimate how psychological the running order really is.

People usually reduce it to “opening slot bad” or “closing slot good”, but I think it goes way deeper than that.

A song’s placement can completely change how it feels to viewers. An upbeat song can lose impact if it’s surrounded by similar high energy performances, while a slower emotional entry can either stand out beautifully or completely disappear depending on what comes before and after it. Even experimental songs can feel refreshing or confusing based on the pacing of the show around them.

Sometimes an entry isn’t actually weak, it’s just placed in a terrible context.

I also think you can kind of tell who Eurovision producers expect to do well based on where certain countries are placed. If you’re near the end of a semi final, you’re usually seen as one of the stronger contenders.

An example I specifically remember is acts like Hold Me Closer and Give That Wolf a Banana in 2022. Both were already considered favourites and both got very favourable late running order slots in their semi-finals.

Meanwhile opening the show or performing second still feels like a disadvantage, especially in the semis. Even though people say “the curse” isn’t real anymore, those positions still feel harder to qualify from because viewers are only just settling into the show.

You can also sometimes predict who’s going to get screwed by the running order itself. If there are three slower emotional songs back to back, the weakest one is basically dead on arrival because viewers mentally merge them together. But if you’re a memorable dance track placed between two ballads, that contrast alone can make you stand out more.

What makes it even more interesting is that the exact running order isn’t random. Countries only randomly draw which half of the semi-final they compete in, while the producers themselves decide the actual performance positions to create the “best TV show”.

Looking at this year’s running orders specifically, there are already entries people think have been helped massively by placement, while others feel like they’ve been thrown into difficult parts of the show.

I think casual viewers experience Eurovision very differently from hardcore fans. Most of us in the fandom have already heard the songs dozens of times before May, but casual viewers are processing everything live in one sitting. That means pacing, memory and emotional contrast become incredibly important.

There are songs I loved before the final that I barely remembered by the end of the night simply because they got swallowed by the flow of the show. On the other hand, some entries suddenly feel much bigger live because their placement gives them a real “moment”.

Especially now that the contest is so polished and competitive, I honestly think producers shape part of the emotional journey of the final through the running order itself.

Am I overthinking it, or do you think running order genuinely changes results more than people admit?

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I find it fascinating how some Eurovision songs completely outgrow their placement over time.

Moldova’s 2010 entry Run Away only finished 22nd, yet “Epic Sax Guy” became one of the most iconic internet memes Eurovision has ever produced. Honestly, the meme ended up becoming more famous than the actual result itself.

Armenia’s 2022 entry Snap literally finished 20th, yet as of May 2026 it has over 1.41 billion Spotify streams and remains one of the most streamed Eurovision songs of all time. It genuinely became bigger after Eurovision than during Eurovision itself.

And Portugal’s 2025 entry Deslocado finished 21st, yet by May 2026 it had already become the 4th most streamed Eurovision 2025 song on Spotify with over 131 million streams. That honestly says way more about a song’s longevity than the scoreboard ever could.

In the streaming and internet era, a Eurovision result doesn’t always define a song’s legacy anymore. TikTok, Spotify, memes and replay value can completely reshape how an entry is remembered years later. Some songs become cultural moments long after the contest itself ends.

What Eurovision entry do you think aged way better than its placement?

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One of Eurovision’s most underrated strengths is how it gives diaspora communities and underrepresented identities a stage in front of millions of people.

As someone who is Turkish Cypriot and part of a diaspora community myself, I think certain Eurovision performances hit differently because you understand the emotional connection to homeland, identity, culture and history on a much deeper level.

Some of the most powerful Eurovision performances are the ones that feel deeply connected to heritage and cultural memory rather than simply trying to create a “Eurovision moment.”

Jamala’s “1944” carried themes of displacement, homeland and generational trauma in a way that felt hauntingly personal and historically important.

In 2017, Joci Pápai became the first Romani artist to represent Hungary at Eurovision with “Origo”, blending modern sounds with traditional Romani influences and creating one of the most intimate and authentic performances of the decade.

That same year, Isaiah Firebrace became Australia’s first Indigenous Eurovision representative, bringing another historically underrepresented identity onto the Eurovision stage.

Artists like Mahmood also showed how Eurovision reflects the multicultural identities of modern Europe. Both “Soldi” and later “Brividi” felt deeply personal and emotionally vulnerable in a way that resonated with audiences far beyond Italy. Mahmood’s presence in Eurovision challenged narrow ideas of what representing a European country is supposed to “look like”, while also showing how identity and modern European culture continue to evolve together.

What makes performances like these so impactful is that they don’t feel manufactured. You can feel the lived experience, cultural identity and emotional connection behind them.

People often dismiss Eurovision as “just a song contest”, but moments like these show how Eurovision can become a platform for culture, history, identity and representation all at once.

People love to mock the Eurovision Song Contest and reduce it to “crazy costumes and politics”, but when you actually look into its history, Eurovision is honestly one of the most fascinating cultural events Europe has ever created.

As someone born in 2006, I grew up with the giant LED stages, dramatic televoting reveals, fan favourites, memes and social media reactions. But the older I got, the more obsessed I became with the history behind Eurovision itself, because the contest didn’t just randomly become this massive cultural phenomenon overnight.

The roots of Eurovision go back to 1950 at the Imperial Hotel in Torquay, England, where broadcasters from across Europe gathered through the EBU. Inspired by Italy’s Sanremo Music Festival, the idea of a European song competition was proposed by RAI and championed by Marcel Bezençon.

And somehow that small idea became Eurovision.

It’s honestly crazy to think that in 1956 only 7 countries participated: Belgium, France, West Germany, Italy, Luxembourg, the Netherlands and Switzerland.

No semi-finals.
No televote.
No giant arenas.
No pyro.
No fandom culture online.

Just live music, orchestras, juries, and countries trying to reconnect through culture after a devastated post-war Europe.

That’s what makes Eurovision beautiful to me.

When you properly study Eurovision history, you realise the contest evolved alongside Europe itself. Every decade added another layer to what Eurovision eventually became.

The 1950s built the foundations of the contest with juries, orchestras, the introduction of the 3-minute rule, and countries slowly joining one by one.

Then the 1960s started shaping Eurovision into modern entertainment. Sweden debuted, Portugal and Ireland joined, colour broadcasting arrived in 1968, language rules were introduced, and voting systems constantly changed because the contest was still trying to find its identity.

The 1970s honestly feels like the moment Eurovision became iconic. Promo videos were introduced, the six people on stage rule opened the doors for bands, Greece and Turkey joined the contest, and in 1975 the legendary douze point system was introduced.

That douze points system is literally one of the most recognisable things in Eurovision history.

As someone with Turkish Cypriot roots, learning about Turkey joining Eurovision in 1975 honestly makes me emotional in a weird way. Especially knowing the tensions that existed in the region during that era, particularly after conflicts in my homeland of Cyprus, it shows how Eurovision has always reflected Europe politically and culturally deep down, even when people try to say “it’s just a song contest.”

And that’s what fascinates me about Eurovision. It mirrors Europe itself. its tensions, identities, friendships, divisions and cultural shifts.

The 1980s brought fashion, spectacle and unforgettable television moments. This was the era where Eurovision became visually bigger and more dramatic. You had Morocco appearing for one year only, Buck’s Fizz creating one of the contest’s most iconic moments with the legendary skirt reveal in 1981, Sandra Kim winning at just 13 years old, and Celine Dion winning for Switzerland before becoming one of the biggest artists in the world.

The 1980s proved Eurovision wasn’t just about music anymore. Staging, visuals and cultural moments were becoming part of the contest’s identity too.

Then the 1990s completely transformed Eurovision.

Following major political changes across Europe, the OIRT broadcasters from Eastern Europe joined the EBU, suddenly making far more countries eligible to participate in Eurovision than ever before. The contest started feeling larger, more diverse and more representative of Europe as a whole.

Because of this expansion, qualification rounds and relegation systems had to be introduced because Eurovision was becoming too massive for one night alone.

Then 1999 changed everything. The language rule was removed and backing tracks were introduced.

Modern Eurovision was basically born there.

The 2000s is honestly one of my favourite Eurovision eras because it feels like the bridge between old Eurovision and modern Eurovision.

You had Sertab Erener giving Turkey its first and only victory in 2003, which genuinely makes me proud because of my Turkish roots. Semi-finals were introduced in 2004, Lordi completely destroyed stereotypes about what could win Eurovision in 2006, Serbia debuted and instantly won in 2007, and Alexander Rybak created one of the contest’s most iconic winning performances with “Fairytale.”

Then came the 2010s — the era I truly grew up with as a Eurovision fan.

This was the era of Mother Loreen and her winning entry “Euphoria”, Italy finally returning, Australia becoming permanent, the 2016 voting overhaul making voting reveals genuinely dramatic again, and of course Conchita Wurst.

Loreen hooked me, but Conchita is the reason I stayed.

I genuinely don’t think anything will ever top Conchita for me personally. That victory felt bigger than Eurovision itself. It felt like a cultural moment that completely changed how I viewed the contest. No words can express this enough. The goosebumps 8-year-old me felt as Conchita’s radiant vocals flowed through my ears and passionately took me on a journey, alongside the camera visuals and the golden phoenix wings emerging behind her as she sang the chorus.

And then came 2020.

I genuinely think non-Eurovision fans will never understand how emotional the cancellation felt for some of us. Eurovision isn’t just a TV show to me. It’s comfort. It’s identity. It’s tradition. It’s community. It’s one week every year where millions of people across completely different countries experience the same emotions together through music.

Yet somehow Eurovision survived again.

From black and white broadcasts with orchestras to giant arena productions watched by hundreds of millions worldwide, Eurovision has constantly reinvented itself while still keeping the same core idea alive: uniting people together through music.

Learning Eurovision history honestly made me appreciate the contest even more.

Every era added something. Orchestral elegance. Televoting drama. Cultural identity. Language diversity. Spectacle. Emotion. Fandom.

Eurovision honestly isn’t just a song contest to me.

It’s Europe’s history told through music.

Happy 70 years of being united by music.