Forty years ago today, pop was re-born.
In spandex and sequins, it burst forth from the flamboyant loins of Brighton* when ABBA took to the stage to belt out Waterloo and win the 1974 Eurovision Song Contest. I was minus 4 years old then, but when the time came, ABBA became my first ever favourite group. I own pretty much everything they’ve ever recorded – including all the solo Swedish hurdy-gurdy stuff. It’s an obsession I’ve never felt the need to grow out of.
Like ABBA, I Have A Dream…
Last year, my hero David Bowie darted out from the shadows of retirement to release his first album in a decade; Suede, his bastard offspring and the band that took from ABBA the baton of my-favourite-group-ever, followed suit; even Morrissey has behaved himself long enough to get a record deal and will be dropping a new LP shortly. So, in this atmosphere of reappraising the greats, in this time of Rocky-esque comebacks, when the old masters just seem to pop up unannounced… is it too much – on their 40th anniversary – is it really too much to ask for something like this:
* I have never understood why there is nothing in Brighton commemorating such a momentous occasion. It defies common sense – and business sense. “Dear Brighton and Hove City Council…”