Behind every song, there is a story – and we intend to share them.
I think it’s a given that pretty much everyone on the planet knows at least one ABBA song (even if they wont admit to it). In my case, if requested, I think I could recite the band’s entire back catalogue, perhaps even in alphabetical order. This immense knowledge of the Swedish pop sensation group doesn’t come from a love for outfit. No no no. Rather, it comes from years of musical torture at the hands of my ABBA-obsessed Dad.
Ever since I could remember, my Dad used to blast the ‘awesome-foursome’ from every and any speaker we had in the house, if only to prove that the 1970’s were still alive and kicking in the Morton household. I have distinct memories of car trips where he would have Ring, Ring or Fernando on loop so we could learn the words and hopefully, one day, sing along with him. As much as I hate to admit it, (and I do hate to admit it)… all Dad’s persistence payed off. I now know pretty much all the words to all the songs that ABBA ever wrote.
Soon, ABBA began to enter my life in every way.
I used to sing ABBA songs to my school friends, thinking that they too had been subjected to the same rigorous musical training that I had undergone and, therefore, would know them of by heart as well.
I used to say that when grew up, I wanted to look like Agnetha, with her beautiful blonde hair and awesome sparkly costumes.
And when myself and my best friend, Rach, were making up dances (as most little girls do), I, of course, suggested we used Dancing Queen as our soundtrack. After all, it was my FAVOURITE ABBA song. Don’t get me wrong, we were no Muriel or Rhonda, but we did pretty much kill the number. We would perform our cartwheels and forward rolls we had learnt the week prior at gym to the pop beats of the 70’s anthem without a care in the world.
Unfortunately, now however, I hate ABBA. Perhaps it was a case of over exposure, or maybe a case of me just trying to be cool and hate everything my parents love. Whatever the situation, I cant stand to hear even one bar of their songs. Which is sad.
I don’t know if my Dad really knows how much ABBA means to me. Personally, I have grown to despise the music. But it’s not about that. It’s the fact that I have so many memories associated with the band. Maybe they’re not all great memories, but they’re memories all the same, and that’s song story is special to me.