Björn Again Concert

Disappointment of an amateur critic

There is nothing quite as good as bitching about something I cannot do better and beating the Tages Anzeiger with tearing someone to pieces isn't all that bad, either, is it? So let me grab the keyboard and write a column-concert-review-frustration-reduction-thingie.

Belonging to the generation that was able to find ABBA cool twice - including the intermittent period where one was dutyfully ashamed of the first time - I am not quite sure whether I should be relieved about the fact that the four Swedes have turned down the offered 1.8 billion and will not get back together to destroy the good memories or whether it would not be really groovy to see the gods of the disco live once in a life time...

Luckily - that is the general belief according to hear say - there are the Australians who have already proved with Muriel's Wedding that they know what ABBA is all about and who gave us jewels like the cover band Björn Again. Who am I to resist the temptation to join the pilgrimage to the sold out house of the plebs. So I found myself a spot between the glittery homosexuals and the screaming mid-thirties to wait and see.

A few songs playing off the record (excuse the pun) warm up the crowd and the first two persons appear on stage - a bassist and a drummer who will discretely stay in the background during the whole concert but irritatingly do not fit into the whole revival image.

Then enter the four main participants. Two blokes clothed in white silk robes who - apart from the beard and the blond hair - have no resemblance to Benny or Björn whatsoever. They somehow reminded me of the beginning of a boxing match. The two women fit the picture a little better. Blonde Agnetha even has a slightly scandinavian touch. But their tight silken white dresses with their Garfieldian pictures hurt the eye - the blue disco ponchos they don later on are a big improvement.

Ah well, I didn't actually expect impersonators and I judge this failed attempt with appreciation. The record fades out and the four grab their instruments and microphones... shudder, shock. The tune fits but the voices echo discordantly through the hall. 3 of the 4 voices are spot on ABBA like but the forth one is way too deep - at least in harmony but still not the same as the original. What the heck, it isn't the original after all so we'll turn a blind eye (or should I say a deaf ear?).

But horror's fangs bite through bone and marrow. At least one of the two women cannot sing. It is plain off-key there is no other word for it. Amazingly nobody seems to mind but me and my friend. During the concert there were times where I was sure they had gotten their act together and suddenly they were back off track torturing my ears. If my CD player had //Gleichlaufstörungen like that I would lovingly compress it to an inch long cube with a hammer and stack it on the scrap metal rack at work.

While the two girls briefly disappear back stage to get changed the two guys throw in an intermezzo that rocks and confirms my suspicion that at least the blond haired Björn clone knows how to play his guitar. Whether the same is true for his Benny-pal with his piano remains a mistery, occasionally I suspect that there might be another player off-stage helping him along. This seems to reinforce the suspicion that those nice sounding sets are being done playback. The truth of this remains speculation and no one seems to care anyway the atmosphere is hot, the crowd is boiling. As if this were not enough the four feel the need to interract with their audience in a way that does not need to fear the comparison with any obnoxiousness of american origin.

Summarising I can say: I saw it, I heard it (unfortunately) and the next time I'll add my 44 bucks to the 1.8 billion instead of throwing them to the Aussies, who knows, maybe the originals will change their minds.

And now, let's see the Tages Anzeiger tear them apart...

Urs Beeli, Zürich, April 2000