Mamma Mia!

 I’ve got ABBA on my mind this Monday afternoon. Saturday night, Michael and I attended an ABBA tribute concert through Performing Arts Houston, which brings artists and companies from around the world to Houston every year. We are frequent attendees, especially to their superb dance offerings. This evening wasn’t dance, though; it was the wonderful, upbeat music of ABBA.

 The band/performers were a bit hard to pin down. The show, billed as The Music and Magic of Abra Cadabra, is apparently performed by members of a production company called Moon Coin Music Group out of Vancouver, British Columbia. As Moon Coin, they have about a dozen different tribute concert performances in their repertoire.

 It would be a blast to see some of their other tribute concerts, everything from Country Divas and RNB to The Eagles and Elton John, with a liberal sprinkling of Canadian stars included. For now, ABBA was plenty.

 The costuming threw me. Lots of glitter and glam—expected—but also go-go boots. I didn’t remember go-go boots. And the dance moves were decidedly ‘70s-ish. I didn’t remember that either. But I remembered the songs and clapped and tapped and bounced my way to the beats for the whole show.

 At intermission, I mentioned something to Michael about feeling a disconnect with the clothing styles, and he had felt it, too. During an audience participation interlude later, one of the singers chatted with the audience. A couple who had attended the Eurovision contest that ABBA won with Waterloo mentioned 1974, the year they won, and then everything clicked for me.

 I didn’t actually know about ABBA in 1974. I was thoroughly otherwise occupied by graduate school, the birth of my first child, and a rocky marriage, followed by the difficulties of impoverished single motherhood. I wouldn’t even meet Michael for two years. So when did I get introduced to this iconic Swedish rock band?

 I must have heard their music through TV and radio. I recognized the melodies and beats, although it is likely I couldn’t have told you who the band was at that time. I had no room in my brain for that kind of information.

 Talking to Michael, I got a similar story. He really didn’t remember much about ABBA as a group from the 1970s and 1980s. That’s why the go-go boots hadn’t registered. We hadn’t seen them perform in those days. That begs the question: how did we get to like ABBA’s songs so much?

 After a little research on the internet to confirm the details of the original group’s original performance life and a lengthy discussion during our drive home Saturday night, it came together. We weren’t ABBA fans; we were fans of the 2008 film Mamma Mia!

 What a revelation. In the film, the song lyrics had context that we understood and were, for the most part, wholly comprehensible. We had a great deal of trouble understanding the words at the tribute concert. Could have been our seats up in the mezzanine or the sound system, but it sounded pretty mumbly. And, in the film, many of the songs were sung solo, which added to clarity.

 Michael and I both enjoyed the ABBA tribute band concert immensely. We smiled throughout and let the beat inhabit us for the whole show. But when we left, we didn’t want to go home and play an ABBA CD—we don’t even own any. No, we wanted to go home and watch Mamma Mia! again.

 It’s funny the way you think you know things, but you don’t really. Popular culture wiggles into our psyches in so many unexpected ways. Have you ever had this kind of surprising discovery about what you knew and how you knew it? If you do, please tell!

 Ciao