Gem O'Reilly
Reporting from the Eurovision Village

“I found myself when listening to Loreen’s songs. She makes me feel like I can lose all my insecurities”.

That's according to Kama Sultry, who I meet strutting into the fan village in huge white heels and an orange cat suit.

I ask her about the outfit and she says it is chosen based on “no pain no gain” describing her heels and then tight trousers and a cheap wig because of the “cost of living”.

Kama claims to be Loreen’s biggest fan.

She says: “I love her stage craft. I used to play Euphoria relentlessly to the disapproval of my flat mates. I feel like songs like that allowed me to put all my insecurities away and get to know myself better”.

Emma Saunders
Watching at the venue

This is the first time Croatia have qualified for the final since 2017. Mama ŠČ!’s impressive moustaches alone were enough to warrant their place in tonight’s final.

The intro sounds a bit like The Strokes before it swiftly changes tack and turns into a kind of novelty marching song. Good or bad? We’re not sure.

Their costumes literally reek of Eurovision. Sparkly suits, sailor hats, sweeping floral military coats, you name it.

We’re not quite sure why they start spinning around the floor at one point but we’ve given up trying to make any sense of Let 3. It spoils the enjoyment. There's even a section reminiscent of Bohemian Rhapsody.

The band all strip off to vest and undies for the last section. And if that’s not enough for you, two huge rockets appear as the finale reaches its crescendo. We’re exhausted, are you?

Mark Savage
Watching at the venue

Image source, Reuters

Let’s face it, we’re all flagging now, so Croatia’s Let 3 have been sent in to shake us out of our stupors.

But don’t let the trench coats and comedy moustaches fool you, this band mean business.

Their song, Mama SC! deliberately mocks “childish” and “psychopathic” dictators, with a particular emphasis on Russian president Vladimir Putin.

Eurovision rules specifically forbid political lyrics, but Let 3, who are well-known satirists in their home country, keep it broad enough to slip past the censors.

“It’s not a political song, it’s an anti-war song,” they told the BBC.

Expect some antics, anyway.

Andre Rhoden-Paul
Reporting from a Eurovision Watch Along event

I've now popped into another watch party at Jonny Bongo's Eurovision Watch Along - a short walk away where around 700 revellers are dancing on tables.

Standing on a bench, Shivani Parmar tells me: "Finland were amazing. Cha Cha Cha. I love it. I love Loreen but Euphoria was better."

The 31-year-old came down from London tonight to watch Eurovision with her pals.

"Eurovision is fun, it's inclusive, it's just a big massive party."

I also bump into Eurovision superfan Miro Korvenaro from Finland. Speaking of the performance, he says: "It was fantastic, everybody going crazy singing cha cha cha.

"Everybody was jumping and singing along. "And it's so nice to be in Liverpool."

Emma Saunders
Watching at the venue

It’s another band up now and we’ve heard a rumour that our very own Eurovision correspondent Daniel Rosney is on a mission to become the sixth member of Slovenia’s Joker Out.

So if you see him appear on stage at any point, give us a shout, he’s still got plenty of work to do here.

There’s so much energy around these guys, they ooze confidence and the silk trousers are giving off proper rock star vibes as well.

I’m stealing the lead singer’s floral chiffon shirt for my next night out (well, after it’s been to the dry cleaner). Lead singer Bojan ruffles one of his bandmates’ hair at one point. Sweet.

Mark Savage
Watching at the venue

Image source, EPA

Slovenian band Joker Out have been handing out branded condoms in Liverpool, which seems in keeping with their self-styled “shagadelic” rock sound.

On stage, they preen and purr like pussy cats, dressed in satin trousers and strategically unbuttoned shirts, giving constant winks to the camera and a pelvic thrusts that err just on the right side of censorship.

Their song is the sort of slick, radio-friendly rock that has made Maroon 5 global superstars, but I’m not a fan.

Emma Saunders
Watching at the venue

Who could forget Netta’s winning entry Toy in 2018? Well one of Toy’s songwriters is behind this year’s Israeli entry Unicorn from Noa Kirel. So that could bode well.

There’s a few lines of Hebrew slipped in here and there but this dance track is largely sung in English.

It kicks off with an operatic intro, as the she belts out the first verse inside a slanted cube on stage.

“Europe, you wanna see me dance?” she asks the crowd before embarking on a full-on gymnastics display.

Noa is clearly VERY flexible. She ends with a backflip accompanied by fireworks. That's what they call going out with a bang.

Mark Savage
Watching at the venue

Image source, PA Media

Israel’s Noa Kirel keeps up the Eurovision tradition of simply making up words.

Her contribution to the English language is “Femininal” – a play on phenomenal, which is meant to suggest the inner power and resilience of womanhood.

I’m quite taken by it, as I am by her song, Unicorn.

A big pop belter, it befits an artist who’s been described as “Israel’s answer to Britney Spears” and who already has five MTV Awards to her name.

A pulsing hymn to individuality, it ends with a full-throttle dance, limb-bending, surely-that’s-going-to-give-her-back-problems-later-in-life dance break.

But is it femininal? That’s for you to decide.

Image source, Reuters

Israel is up next after Lithuania, and some of you might be wondering why the country takes part in the contest.

Israel has been a part of the Eurovision competition since 1973 despite not being a European nation and was the first non-European country granted permission to participate in the event.

This is because the country was a member of the European Broadcasting Union - who is responsible for the Eurovision song contest.

Israel had their first Eurovision win in 1978 in Paris, and again in 2018.

Helen Bushby
Watching at the venue

Lithuania’s song Stay has simple staging, with the focus on Monika Linkytė and her fabulously cut tangerine dress.

Monika has four backing singers, and one of them is Nicola Lambrianos, an Adele impersonator and Waitrose supermarket worker from Essex. She met Monika through a friend, who is a vocal coach.

Nicola told the BBC she is “about 1% Lithuanian”, and her grandmother confirmed that a relative many generations back was from Lithuania.

Mark Savage
Watching at the venue

Image source, EPA

After the sturm und drang of Germany’s performance, Lithuania keeps it stripped-back and simple.

Monika Linkyte keeps the focus on her vocals, and the harmonic interplay with her backing singers.

She wrote the song, Stay, in a single evening – but you can tell it was straight from the heart. She's carried sadness with her since she was 16. She's tasted failure and had her dreams broken.

The fire that burned inside her has been extinguished. But in the song, she reaches out for help, pleading with her loved ones to stay by her side while acknowledging "it ain't easy to love someone like me".

It ends with the repeated phrase"čiūto tūto" - an old Lithuanian folk mantra that's supposed to help people reconnect with nature and their true selves.

Only a stony heart would be unmoved.

Daniel Rosney
Eurovision reporter, inside the arena

Lots of people were waving Ukrainian flags jumping up and down after Tvorchi performed a few minutes ago.

The crowd weren’t as loud as previous performances and you can’t help but wonder what it would’ve sounded like in Ukraine this evening, had we been there, as we should be.

Helen Bushby
Watching at the venue

Hold onto your hats.

Lead singer Chris Harms appears on stage in what looks like Britney Spears’ red rubber catsuit from her song Toxic, with a flame motif round his neck.

This is a raucous number by Germany’s Lord of the Lost, about the rough and smooth of everyone’s lives, epitomised by blood and glitter - the title of the song.

Eurovision loves a bit of rock (hello previous winners Måneskin and Lordi) so will it be Germany’s night? Possibly not, but they’re enjoying the ride.

Mark Savage
Watching at the venue

Image source, EPA

Ah Germany, never stop being yourselves. Here we have a distinctly Teutonic slab of gothic pop metal, courtesy of Hamburg five-piece Lord Of The Lost.

They’ve got one of the night’s most impressive sets, full of raised platforms and fluorescent lights, while singer Chris Harms is festooned with elaborate neckwear.

The song’s a bit cheesy, if I’m honest – imagine a thrash metal Right Said Fred, if that doesn’t give you nightmares – but the band certainly know how to work the stage.

Emma Saunders
Watching at the venue

Alessandra’s costume has been inspired by a queen but we’re getting powerful warrior She-Ra vibes as she belts out dance banger, Queen of the Kings.

We reckon Princess Leia would very happily don that bodice as well, which is teamed with a flowing floor-length chiffon cape, fishnet tights and black patent leather boots.

She hits an incredible whistle note at one point. Meanwhile, her dancers are whizzing around chucking light batons left, right and centre.

Poor Norway have come last at Eurovision 11 times but we have a feeling that’s not going to happen this year.

Mark Savage
Watching at the venue

Image source, EPA

Next up, we have Norwegian singer Alessandra, who has somehow managed to combine Lady Gaga and Norse mythology into an electrifying jolt of mains voltage Euro-pop.

Her song Queen Of Kings carries a powerful message of self-acceptance, inspired by the prejudice Alessandra faced while growing up in another country.

“I am bisexual and when I lived in Italy I had to hide who I was because some of my friends and relatives would not approve," she said.

"So I think it's important to accept who we are, without caring about the opinion of others."

Emma Saunders
Watching at the venue

We just had an hilarious moment with presenter Mel Giedroyc churning butter behind Hannah Waddingham,, external a nod to Poland’s infamous eye-catching 2014 performance from Donatan & Cleo, external. Fnarr, fnarr.

Image source, BBC Eurovision

Mark Savage
Watching at the venue

Over in the press room, journalists downed tools for three minutes to join in with the Finnish entry, Cha Cha Cha.

I don't think we'll be asked to take part in Strictly any time soon...

Helen Bushby
Watching at the venue

Defending champions Ukraine are back with Tvorchi, singing Heart of Steel.

Andrii Hutsuliak and Nigerian-born singer Jeffery Kenny, wrote this last spring when Ukraine's soldiers were defending Mariupol’s steelworks from Russian bombardment.

They told the BBC last month that preparing for Eurovision has been challenging, with rehearsals and outfit fittings sometimes being disrupted by air raid sirens.

The staging looks futuristic, with four square screens and a huge backdrop showing a metallic figure cradling the earth.

Mark Savage
Watching at the venue

Image source, EPA

When Ukraine’s Kalush Orchestra won last year’s Eurovision Song Contest, their lead singer Oleh Psiuk, called from the stage: “Please help Ukraine, Mariupol. Help Azovstal right now.”

Tvorchi’s song has a direct connection to that moment in time.

Keyboard player Andrii Hutsuliak wrote it after watching videos of the siege of Mariupol, and was inspired by the civilians who defended the Azovstal steel works.

The result is a song of principled defiance, that declares:“Sometimes you just gotta know / When to stick your middle finger up in the air.”

Musically, it’s a world away from the folkloric traditions of Kalush, with electronic drums lurching behind the beat, and an unsettling, Vampiric organ capturing the fear and uncertainty that Ukraine is still experiencing.