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The Eurovision Song Contest is back again for 2022 and will no doubt showcase some of the continent’s most eccentric pop talent.

This year the UK’s hopes ride on Sam Ryder, a former TikTok sensation, who will be performing an original song, Space Man.

Twenty-five countries in total will compete in the competition’s grand final this Saturday (14 May), with the ten best-ranked entries from two semi-finals this week (on 10 and 12 May respectively) going through. The remaining five entries are reserved for automatic byes for the “Big Five”,  that is competition’s five-largest financial backers, including the UK and host nation Italy. All 40 participating countries, including those knocked out in the semis, will get a chance to vote for the winner of the final. 

Since its inception in 1956, Eurovision has displayed some of the most interesting, unconventional and down-right strange acts that Europe has had to offer, and this year is expected to be no different. 

From theatre’s Michael Ball to the Russian grannies in 2012, here, our writers look back at the most memorable and cringe-worthy acts to have graced the competition’ stage…

Dschinghis Khan, Genghis Khan (West Germany, 1979)

Performed at the 1979 Eurovision Song Contest, a year after the release of Boney M’s Rasputin, this is pretty much the exact same song, only renamed Genghis Khan. Throw in some Halloween costumes, lots of random cackling and some of the worst aerobics in the world, and you have Eurotrash magic.

Michael Ball, One Step Out of Time (UK, 1992)

This isn’t actually that terrible, in a late-80s Stock-Aitken-Waterman sort of way. But that’s no excuse for just how theatrical Michael Ball is in this performance, obsessively mugging and air-punching during every lyric. Nor does it excuse the decision to dress him and his back-up singers like employees from your local NatWest branch.

Paul Oscar, Minn hinsti dans (Iceland, 1997)

Iceland’s 1997 entry opens with the freakishly flexible Paul Oscar sitting on a white sofa surrounded by (presumably dead) female dancers in S&M dungeon leather. It’s all a bit Patrick Bateman, but the song is decent in a sub-Enigma, 90s-trance fashion.

Ping Pong, Sameyakh (Israel, 2000)

Like a surreal nightmare inadvertently warning us of coming darkness, Eurovision welcomed the world into the 21st century with this hilariously tone-deaf, out-of-time performance from Israeli entry Ping Pong. Made up of a topless man, two young women entirely devoid of voices and rhythm and the world’s worst Jarvis Cocker impersonator, it’s possibly the most gleefully awful four minutes in Eurovision history.

Nicki French, Don’t Play That Song Again (UK, 2000)

What an unfortunately prescient title. For a few years, poor Nicki French took the title of the UK’s lowest-ever scorer at Eurovision. It’s not entirely surprising, with the song’s overly repetitive, entirely shrill chorus, and the fact that French had been styled like Anthea Turner on a drunken night out.

Michalis Rakintzis, S.A.G.A.P.O (Greece, 2002)

Bad singing, awkward dancing, nonsensical lyrics: Greece’s 2002 entry was like a nightmarish dystopian version of Take That.

Jemini, Cry Baby (UK, 2003)

Possibly Britain’s worst entry ever: an out-of-tune version of 90s popstars Steps. We got nul points for this, and deservedly so.

Javine, Touch My Fire (UK, 2005)

Presumably picked to confuse short-sighted viewers into thinking Beyoncé had signed up to represent the UK, Javine’s Touch My Fire is fine, but such an obvious rip-off of Beyoncé’s Naughty Girl, right down to the uncanny styling, that it can only come off as embarrassing. Poor Javine.

Donna and Joe McCaul, Love? (Ireland, 2005)

Donna and Joe didn’t make it through to the actual Eurovision finals in 2005, but did make it to the semis with this thing. While both of the Irish siblings were up on stage, it was mainly Donna whose voice could be heard, with ginger-haired Joe instead supplying all sorts of unique dance moves. We must also spare a moment of appreciation for the ponderous ambiguity of that song title, question mark and all.

Daz Sampson, Teenage Life (UK, 2006)

Fellow Brits, can we please forget that Daz Sampson’s cringe-tastic performance ever happened?

Scooch, Flying the Flag (UK, 2007)

With all those embarrassing puns and ridiculous outfits, Scooch’s air travel-themed number was not a happy moment for British Eurovision fans.

Dustin The Turkey, Irelande Douze Pointe (Ireland, 2008)

What did Ireland do to deserve this Eurovision entry? Dustin the Turkey was a creepy puppet, singing a twisted electro-rave version of Irish folk. A low point for Irish music.

Andy Abraham, Even If (UK, 2008)

Andy Abraham, otherwise known as “Andy the Binman off X Factor”, really meant well, but his performance for the UK in 2008 was little more than a cheese-fest.

Guildo Horn, Guildo hat euch lieb (Germany, 2008)

“A vision in turquoise velvet” was how Guildo Horn was described by Terry Wogan. He also looked like a medieval child-catcher, and not one blessed with a good singing voice.

Krassimir Avramov, Illusion (Bulgaria, 2009)

Literally every Eurovision cliché thrown into a pot, Bulgaria’s 2009 entry is a three-minute wail-fest telling the horrifying story of what happens when a collection of am-dram renaissance fair weirdos gather at a Satanic ritual presided over by dancing lovers on stilts. It has to be seen to be believed.

Josh Dubovie, That Sounds Good to Me (UK, 2010)

“That sounds good to me,” sang Josh Dubovie for the UK. It didn’t sound good to Europe. Maybe it was the fact that there’s literally no melody, or that the backup singers are entirely out of tune? Either way, poor Josh.

Buranovskiye Babushki, Party For Everybody (Russia, 2012)

Nobody really knew what to make of these infamous baking grannies (they baked live on stage as part of their performance).

Engelbert Humperdinck, Love will set you free (UK, 2012)

Poor old Engelbert Humperdinck looked utterly out of place at Eurovision. Why did we send him?

Valentina Monetta, The Social Network Song (Oh Oh, Uh, Oh Oh) (San Marino, 2012)

“If you wanna come to my house, then click me with your mouse!” Valentina Monetta’s ode to social media, complete with a magical interlude where she interrupts her performance to tap around on a laptop propped up on stage, was originally titled The Facebook Song, until Eurovision bosses deemed it too much of a commercial for Mark Zuckerberg’s online giant. Which explains the title change. It doesn’t explain why anyone thought this would be a good idea in the first place.

Cezar, It’s My Life (Romania, 2013)

You know those bits in Justin Timberlake songs where his voice suddenly goes high? This is that, for four straight minutes. Romanian 2013 entry Cezar is also dressed as some sort of sexy Dracula here, surrounded by half-naked dancers, with music presumably by Skrillex’s Romanian equivalent.

Farid Mammadov, Hold Me (Azerbaijan, 2013)

This performance is Eurovision gone all arty, with weirdly-eyebrowed Farid dancing with a bendy doppelganger who is trapped in a box. It’s “Ricky Martin meets that time David Blaine dangled himself in a perspex box over the Thames,” and every bit as baffling. As for the song, it’s like something from an aborted Evanescence album.

Donatan and Cleo, My Slowianie (Poland, 2014)

The UK’s expert jury ranked the group of scantily-clad young women, who were dressed as milk maids, in last place, with judge Laura Wright referring to the performance as “soft porn”. A breakdown of the voting competition organisers, however, revealed that Poland’s song was the favourite of the British public. That says a lot. 

Robin Bengtsson, I Can’t Go On (Sweden, 2017)

Shiny suited singer Robin Bengston was performing for Sweden as a solo artist, but brought along some similarly costumed friends. Their choreography largely consisted of undoing blazers and toe-tapping, while Bengston insisted on telling us that he “can’t go on / when you look this freaking beautiful”. Think “Boyzone take on The City”. 

Mikolas Josef, Lie To Me (Czech Republic, 2018)

The backpack-wearing wonder from the Czech Republic worked in too much twerking for most people’s liking. His lyrics also included the memorable line: “All you greedies wanna eat my spaghetti.” Do we though?

Serhat, Say Na Na Na (San Marino, 2019)

Since San Marino has a population of less than 35,000, they should be forgiven for recycling their acts. Unless, that is, they’re Pitbull look-alike Serhat. His 2016 performance was bad enough, but this hip-gyratingly cheerful song, complete with a natty dance routine, left viewers crouching behind the sofa saying: “NA NA NA MAKE IT STOP.”