Why is UMK making Melodifestivalen seem old-fashioned?
Only a few years ago, asking the question would have been blasphemy for any Eurovision fan. Who could compete with the Melodifestival, A pop showcase that has been part of Swedish culture since 1958, a television war machine that has become an institution and which, despite a declining market share in recent years, is the most watched programme in Sweden every year?
Today the answer comes from the far north and it has a name: New Music Competition. Discreetly, but surely, UMK is just making Mello look dated, and is becoming THE benchmark for Nordic selections, or even for all national selections…
When Finland dares again, Sweden recycles
The UMK 2026 has lined up a most interesting and varied line-up this year. From pop and more alternative sounds (Chachi), folk touches (Komiat), a dark ballad (Sinikka Monte) the thorat singing (Antti Paalanen), club influences (Kiki), a band with titles difficult to easily categorise on Spotify. There are violins, guitars, accordion, bass, choruses that shout in English and Finnish, and productions that don't ask if they are a bit “too much” or “not enough”.
Opposite, the Melodifestival increasingly gives the impression of being an IKEA catalogue where only the page numbers change each year. There are good songs, yes, but each year a feeling of... déjà vu grows. The same artists, the same productions, the same musical structures, the same stage gimmicks, the same 3 or 4 composers.Jimmy Joker, Anders Wrathov ...) that take up almost half the programme, it feels like it's going round in circles.
Although SVT reformed its artist selection committee this year in the face of criticism about the lack of diversity, Mello remains a steamroller that recycles codes rather than crushing them. The UMK, meanwhile, still allows itself to take risks, under the leadership of Sergio Jaén, who assisted the UMK as an artistic consultant last year and now acts as Artistic Director of the competition (his CV includes staging Eurovision performances such as those of Bambie Thug, Erika Vikman, JJ, Theo Evan Finland understood that to exist in the jungle of national selections, one needs a clear point of view, not just a strong brand.
The UMK speaks to fans, the Mello speaks to a market.
And this is arguably the heart of the matter, who are these finals aimed at?
The Melodifestival isn't so much a gigantic national entertainment spectacle as it is a strategic product for the Swedish music industry. The ideal showcase for seasoned artists ready to conquer the charts. And Eurovision in all of this? A bonus, within a well-oiled system where each song is an investment as much as a performance.
Conversely, UMK appears to appeal just as much to a local audience and industry as it does to the neglected Eurovision fans of Melodifestivalen. The line-up is compact, clear, and diverse, with a narrative that looks towards Eurovision as much as towards the national stage. In short, the question being asked isn't just “who will be a hit on Spotify,” but “who can represent Finland at Eurovision?”. And that changes everything.
While UMK has become a natural and anticipated fixture of national selections, Melodifestivalen seems to be a show where you quickly skim through the few featured songs rather than watching all five semi-finals.
The format: the little show that makes the big one unfashionable
Another key point: the format. The UMK is a single evening where all the stakes are concentrated. A tight line-up, clear stakes, optimised airtime for storytelling without unnecessary filler.
The Melodifestival, for its part, features 30 artists, six weeks on air, semi-finals, and “second chance” qualifiers. It's a format that has been its strength but which today dilutes attention, builds up weariness and quickly makes you want to move on to something else.
The UMK has a format that demands 2026. Short, dense, effective.
The serious lightness of Finnish Sisu
But where UMK really shines is its tone, a mix of rigor and self-deprecation, with Finnish «Sisu"» as a creative strike force that allows for taking everything very seriously, from the music, the stage design, the production, the competition, with self-deprecation as a shield where one can invest a huge budget for To put a singer in a giant denim egg. And this year was another masterclass: a mashup between Erika Vikman and JJ who sets the tone from the opening of the show, Miriana Conte and her wink to the fans as she dots the i's on her gym ball. It's neat, dignified, never filtered or hallowed: in the land of sisu, they prefer raw authenticity
Conversely, Sweden remains the queen of the finish. Impeccable production, seasoned artists, artistic and visual mastery. And when the Mello breaks out of its sterilisation, it’s precisely to choose… KAJ, Finnish singing group who represented Sweden in 2025! KAJ, returning this year as a guest at UMK for a “trauma” version of their sauna anthem. A meta-joke for the fans and an assumed stance: here we can laugh at ourselves, our neighbours, the competition, without ever despising it.
Finland fully embraces what it has become at UMK, a country of proposals that always stand out, often hit the mark, daring gambles that impress, and bangers that aren't afraid to be loud, strange, or divisive. There's a clear desire to push projects with genuine character and let artists be themselves. While UMK has understood that life is born from chaos, Melodifestival often prefers control.
So, who wins?
Melodifestivalen is an event firmly rooted in Swedish culture and goes far beyond a simple selection of artists for Eurovision. It is a juggernaut with gigantic industrial and economic stakes. But it must be acknowledged that in the arena of Eurovision national selections, UMK has overtaken it. Short format, irreverent tone, artistic diversity, Finland seems to have found the recipe for an entertaining and modern show that speaks to 2026. Yle dares to break everything while SVT preserves a cultural heritage.
Ultimately, isn't the soul of a competition more important than its technical quality? No, Mello is not dead. Yes, we will enjoy watching the final on Saturday evening (and being in the Strawberry Arena in Stockholm), but a part of us knows that Mello is no longer the« king of national selections. And to regain its throne, it will need to regain its magic.
Chaos is the new sexy.
