Belgium

O Julissi Ishtar

For all the melancholy it inpires among fans who think the contest has never been as culturally worthwhile since it was reinstated, you've got to wonder whether the free language rule makes much difference in Eurovision. I assume the decision to allow countries to sing in whatever language they liked was a move on the part of the production team to turn the contest into something reflecting the fact that the vast majority of successful music across the continent is performed in English rather than an array of languages you would never otherwise hear, but with Molitva last year becoming the first winner in almost ten years to be performed entirely in a language other than English you have to ask: does language really play a decisive role in determining whether people will vote for a song in Eurovision, or will they vote for a song even if they have no idea what, lyrically, it is about?

There are plenty of examples to say that they will, if the song itself (i.e. the music and the performance) is memorable. One of the most notable is the Belgian entry Sanomi, the runner-up in 2003 in one of the closest contests in Eurovision history, which was penned in an imaginary language. Perhaps televoters appreciated the fact that finally someone had realised you didn't have to sing in English to speak to the audience; perhaps they appreciated the fact that they were free to interpret the lyrics in any way they pleased, or not at all; perhaps they just liked the music. In any case, the song proved that you could perform in any language at Eurovision and still do well, even one that meant nothing (arguably making it no different to most pop). The Netherlands tried it in 2006 with considerably less success, but then Treble's Amambanda was in an altogether different league: a much lower one. And now, undeterred by their neighbour's fate and perhaps looking to reverse their fortunes and set a precedent by capitalising on their own success in the genre, multilingual Belgium is returning to the Eurovision stage with another folk song in a made-up language.

I have my misgivings about this approach. For a start, countries rarely if ever repeat the success of former winners (or in this case near-winners) by coming up with their own versions of them. Apart from anything else it shows a lack of imagination, on the part of the viewers or committees who select it as their nation's entry if not the performers or composers themselves. And although I have nothing against them per se, I am not a great fan of imaginary languages: while they profess to give people the freedom to interpret them as they choose, you invariably have to take the lead set by the music. With a clear framework in which to make of them what you will, your what-you-will options are in fact rather limited. While this was not so much the case with Sanomi, it is very much so with O Julissi: by its nature - and its stated intent - it does not lend itself to any interpretation other than pure Pollyanna.

Not that there's anything wrong with that. While at first it may not appear an obvious candidate for the title, the Belgian entry is one of the most upbeat songs in this year's contest. I say not obvious in the sense that it almost doesn't have a beat at all: like Y Así, the 2005 Austrian entry, it is unusual to come across a song in which rhythm is so effortlessly provided by an array of instruments that (for the most part) includes no drums. On those terms - purely musical - I find O Julissi very attractive and easy to listen to: the arrangement is wonderful and full of character. My problem with it is that while it is only two and a half minutes long, it still outstays its welcome. Like the Dutch entry in Athens, it believes it has something to say long after the audience has realised it doesn't, and as a consequence feels like it goes on forever. If it is lucky it will make enough of an impression on televoters in its first minute and a half to outweigh the tedium the remainder may inspire and still get them to vote for it.

The question then arises as to who will be likely to vote for it in the first place. Fans of the genre, possibly; those who like the occasional throwback to a more sedate musical era, perhaps; viewers with a penchant for the prim and proper. It strikes me as something that western Europe would be more inclined to vote for, though I may be wrong. If I'm right, it may be helped by the fact that however fanciful its lyrics are meant to be, there is a distinct Slavic sound to them which was absent from the more universal Sanomi. I may be seeing more than is actually there, and in any case it would require me to believe that language does play a decisive role in whether people will vote for a song.

So is someone in, say, Croatia going to be swayed to pick up the phone for a song just because it has a line in it that sounds a bit like something they might say in their language if they wouldn't have voted for it based on music and performance alone? Probably not. Where then does that leave the Belgian entry? In the semi-final, I suspect. Aspects of the song are certainly likeable, but the overall sense is of something that could easily and rapidly turn from appealing to irritating. If it does prove me wrong I expect it will do so convincingly.