Sweden treats the Eurovision Song Contest with an almost civic devotion. Its national selection tournament is a televised staple, and its songwriting industry has supplied decades of glossy anthems to broadcasters across the continent. Yet for one of the country's most respected pop artists, the competition has strayed so far from its musical foundations that it is practically painful to watch.
Speaking on Amy Poehler's Good Hang podcast, which arrived on Tuesday, November 10, Robyn gave a blunt response when Poehler brought up the contest and asked what it actually means to European viewers. Rather than offering diplomatic nostalgia, Robyn laughed straight away and launched into an appraisal that left little room for misinterpretation. In her view, the appeal has fallen apart, turning an annual fixture into an ordeal she described as just shit.
Her complaints were anchored in the standard set by older Swedish entrants. Robyn pointed out that without acts on the scale of ABBA, who took home the 1974 trophy with Waterloo and used that breakthrough to establish a lasting international footprint, she sees almost no reason to tune in. She also singled out Carola, whose 1991 win with Fangad av en stormvind left a deep impression on her and fellow pop artist Zara Larsson when they were growing up. Compared to those moments of genuine popular talent, the modern show feels unwatchable to her.
She described watching the broadcast with American friends, noting that one friend, Bart, ended up hiding under a blanket because the performances felt so humiliating. That second hand discomfort, paired with what she termed a bad kind of overstimulation, left her reaching for even harsher descriptions before stopping herself on air.
Her frustration contrasts sharply with Sweden's official pedigree at the event. The nation holds a joint record with seven wins. Loreen solidified that track record in recent memory, winning first with Euphoria in 2012 and again with Tattoo in 2023, making her only the second singer in the history of the competition to triumph twice. That continuity has kept the contest central to the Swedish entertainment industry, yet Robyn's reaction reflects how thoroughly the spectacle can alienate listeners who hold pop craft to a different standard.
Her skepticism toward the institution is not purely aesthetic. In January 2024, Robyn was one of more than a thousand Swedish artists, alongside Fever Ray, First Aid Kit, and Viagra Boys, who added their names to an open letter urging organizers to exclude Israel from the contest held in Malmo. The letter argued that Israel's participation during the war in Gaza violated the founding ideals of the competition. Organizers turned down the petition, but broader friction around the event has persisted, with both Ireland and the Netherlands confirming that they will bypass the 2027 broadcast entirely.
Outside the television studio, Robyn has kept her own schedule full. In March, she brought out Sexistential, her ninth studio album and her first full collection since Honey landed in 2018. The record sparked her biggest headline run to date, including a concert at London's O2 Arena in July, and she recently linked up with Larsson to rework Talk To Me into a joint release titled Talk To Me, Zara. Having spent decades treating dance pop with seriousness and care, she is clearly in no mood to celebrate an evening of noisy embarrassment.
