Guess which song they chose to start this stunning, visual spectacular. I bet you can't. If you can guess the second one you've already seen the show. And guess which one they chose for the finale, 90 exhilarating and strangely moving minutes later. You can take more of a chance with that one but you still won't get it. (Answers at the bottom in case you want to save the surprise for your own DLR trip to Pudding Mill Lane.)
And who are "they" anyway? We were there, hundreds of silky outfits paying homage to the 70s were there and an audience of all ages were there swaying to every A, B, B and A. But Abba weren't there. Just their creepily realistic avatars, trapping them forever in 1981, the year of the first space shuttle launch, the first Post It note and the first wedding of King Charles.
That was the year of the post-divorce, grown-up, heartbroken Abba. Red-haired Frida, crimped-hair Agnetha, Benny and Bjorn looking just as they did when they promised to love us for evermore in 1974. The year of that moody and mysterious album, The Visitors, with its odd mix - the desperate heartbreak of One of Us, the daft vaudeville of Two for the Price of One and the murderous, chorus-free Day Before You Came.
None of which were played on this Voyage. But one track that was, When All Is Said And Done, was the one that ear-wormed its way into my Saturday night and Easter Sunday. It's one that has all the recurring themes of Abba classics - love, break-up, regret, gratitude, plus a bit of Swedish quirkiness.
"Thanks for all your generous love, and thanks for all the fun. Neither you nor I'm to blame when all is said it done."
That core of thankfulness was there at their peak, the singalong Thank You For The Music filling the east London air here, and right at the end, with that lovely line from the surprise 2021 release, I Still Have Faith In You,
"We stand on a summit, humble and grateful to have survived."
Like us all. Grateful to have survived our own winners taking it all, our own Waterloos and our own knowing me, knowing yous - a dazzling update of that famous hugging video is brilliantly created here across multiple giant screens.
Like Fernando, we were young and full of life back then. And we are again as Agnetha's shapely avatar dances around Bjorn's strumming his ever-present guitar. Ageless Frida heads to Benny with his lifelike high-heeled foot tapping under his double-stacked keyboards. The intermittent jumbo screens either side of the stage mimic those Hyde Park concerts when they're all you can see of the on-stage performing ants. The beauty of the Abba arena is in its intimacy - a theatre-sized venue that seems much bigger than it is.
Stalagtites of light drip onto us dancing queens, a circular screen with a close-up of Frida singing Fernando appears over our heads from nowhere, red lasers fire into the back of the arena, a total eclipse of the sun plays out behind the foursome, a state-of-the-art exercise in nostalgia, a digital recreation of an analogue past.
Now we're old and grey, Fernando, but still in our aspic prime. It's only when we're shown video clips of the real Abba exploding into the world with Waterloo and then the astonishing Abba avatars of today waving goodbye that we remember that time really is slipping through our fingers.
There were so many anthems missing here - One Of Us, Take A Chance On Me, Super Trouper, SOS - that it can only be a matter of time before Voyager 2 launches. I could do without the computer-game animations that popped up for a couple of songs, but do I want to go back for a second helping? I do, I do, I do, I do, I do.
(Opening song: The Visitors. Second song: Hole In Your Soul. Finale: The Winner Takes It All. Told you.)
No comments:
Post a Comment