Abba: outrageous smart satin Swedes – archive, 1970s | Abba
Towards our Waterloo
By Clive James
The Observer, April 14, 1974
The mood for the Eurovision song contest (BBC One) had already been set by the Radio Times, which handed over its front page to a sparkling tableau showing the responsibility for representing Britain handed over by veteran Cliff Richard to his impressed successor, Olivia Newton-John.
The two young people showed 64 spotless teeth between them and looked so flashy hygienic that you wondered if any bacteria could survive in the same room. Could this be Britain’s year? I put in a layer of Cox’s pippins from the kitchen and hit the set.
Represented Sweden was Abba, an outfit for two girls and two men with a song called Waterloo. This was built on a T Rex riff and delivered in a Pikkety Witch style that pointed out the cretinous text with ruthless precision. “Waterloo, could have escaped if I had wanted to …” The girl with the blue panties, the silver boots and the clinically interesting lordosis seemed to be the competition’s darling. “Waterloo …” There could be no doubt that she was actually more square than your mother, but compared to Olivia, she was as hip as Grace Slick, and this year, what about Poogy [Israel] and Korni [Yugoslavia], the hip was inside. “Finally facing my Waterloo.”
When the girls rattled off in their ill-matched but prudently selected graffiti, their future prospects looked worryingly good. The hook of their song lasted a long time in the mind, like a kick in the knee.
This is an edited excerpt. Read the article.
Abba and Royal Albert Hall
By John Cunningham
February 15, 1977
Abbas’ arrival on the last part of their British tour was acoustically announced by a helicopter swirling around Albert Hall. Then four Euro people got off briefly, and paid a visit here between the end of the USA and the approaching Australian tours. Two men, two girls: tight white pants, silver decorations on shirts and tops. Clean yet sexy, pumping out its own version of songs at the not too solemn pace of happiness.
The group is Swedish – the blondness of three of them and the latent popularity besides, you would never know – and they produce a kind of elegant Eurorock pop that has characterized it for them since they, fittingly enough, won a Eurovision Song Contest in the early 70- speech. Waterloo was it, and now again, with Fernando and Money, Money, Money and Dancing Queen.
Musically, they have not come far since their Eurovision win in Brighton. They have not had to do it if success is all they are looking for because they have written and repeated formula-winning songs that thump and jingle their brand of sexual security that only manages to stand out recognizably from someone else.
They wrote just about everything in this concert. It sounded good without meaning much. But you do not need so many texts to get a hit No. 1: “Money, money, money – must be fun in the world of the rich” is enough. It has done a lot of good for Abba, and their continued success – which may not be quite as simple as it seems – will probably be more of the same.
However, they have their dreams, musically, to write something that promises to be a rock opera musical. There were some numbers from it – titled The Girl With Golden Hair – in the concert. The familiar story of showbiz turning a star on its head is the theme; it was naive, and best forgotten in its present state.
So what does that leave for Abba, apart from their roots, definitely sinking in highly taxed Sweden? It would be unfair to say a one-hit show because, apart from Dancing Queen, there is a lot of style and power that borders the wider shores of pop and rock. You’ve heard it before, of course. Still nice to be able to put four faces to a pleasant sound.
Abba – the movie
By Derek Malcolm
February 16, 1978
Abba – the movie (U) is timed to synchronize with the marketing of Abba – The Album. And the legion of fans of the Swedish pop group can have a lot of joy from both. Lasse Hallström, the director and writer of this cunning quasi-documentary, is as good in a technical sense as they are, by skillfully interrupting a silly little story about a disc jockey from Sydney who tries to do an in-depth interview with the endless procession of stereotypical stage numbers.
In fact, he succeeds no better than his panicked radio hack (Robert Hughes) in getting under the quartet’s silky skin, which his constant images of the blonde’s notoriously flashy back desperately signify. But then, that’s the name of their special game – watch, listen, but do not touch. A bland band.
Grunt rave
Robin Denselow explores the banality behind Abbas’ professionalism
March 10, 1978
Abba are so outrageously smart that they have almost made mediocrity respectable. Because I hate them. I hate them for their mediocre film that somehow just worked, for their computerized songwriting and spotless studio production, and mostly because I actually like some of their songs. Last week I found myself volunteering to play Take a Chanceon Me. Of course, I quickly showed up with Doors and Talking Heads, but the worrying fact remains that I had played an Abba song and liked it.
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Abba at Wembley
By Robin Denselow
November 6, 1979
Abba on stage was actually up to the standard of Abba on record, which means they were pretty incredible, or pretty awful, depending on your taste. There really can be no half measures for Sweden’s overly visible and audible exports, which have now sold something approaching the 150m record.
Personally, I hate what they stand for and think they are brilliant. The whole concept that rock music is ideal, pure one-off family entertainment seems to me to be a contradiction, but Abba is so outrageously smart and has written so many nice one-off pop songs that they stay in the brain, that they always turn out to be a very special case.
Those who have somehow gotten tickets to the first of their six London shows obviously thought they were more than special, for they stared at the stage with an unpleasantly overwhelmed respect for the first hour, as if they could not really believe that pin – ups had come to life.
Abba performed its non-stop bestsellers remarkably well, with a clean, plush set and clean, plush white and blue suits to help. Frida, the redhead, sang and danced better than the blonde Agnetha, but their duets were fresh, clear and even tantalizing. They managed to look very sexy but strangely clinical.
Benny meanwhile played surprisingly good keyboard and Björn ran up and down and looked a bit silly. The family entertainment angle was covered by the introduction of a choir of school children from London who went with them to an optimistic ballad.
The youthful disco-pop angle was covered by a reminder of how many globally penetrating songs they have written – from the mawkish Fernando to the exciting harmony work in Take a Chance on Me and Does Your Mother Know. Their songs were exciting and immediately satisfying, but somehow I felt a little cheated. It was like eating a box of favorite chocolates and feeling hungry at the end.
The high priests of Euro-naff
Caroline Sullivan on Abba – The Revival
September 21, 1992
Ten years after their death, Abba wraps pop around their little finger again. Today, Polydor Records releases Abba Gold: Greatest Hits. The company expects the album to reach number 1. But Abba Gold is just the latest in one of the biggest trends at the moment: the Abba revival. This is one of those pop culture lunatics so bizarre that no savvy person could have foreseen it. A couple of years ago, the possibility that the satin-swept Swedes would ever again have a nodding acquaintance with the spirit of the times was extremely remote. Yet 1992 sees a tremendous resurgence of interest in them.
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