ABBA is inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, March 15, 2010     I don’t know how many people will note that ABBA was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on March 15, the anniversary of the day that Julius Caesar was assassinated. The point about Caesar that many in the media were making was that the stakeholders that created Rock -- the institutions, the fans, the philosophy, and the key players – were mortally wounded the day these four Swedes were inducted. “Et tu, ABBA? Then die, Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!” Although the record books will include all four of the members of ABBA -- Annifrid, Benny, Bjorn, and Agnetha -- only Annifrid (Frida) and Benny came to accept the figure of the skinny, ghoulish man holding a record disc aloft. But it didn’t matter because the foursome made it, finally; not that they were even trying. Awards have not come easily to these four. Beyond the Eurovision in 1974, their showcase Broadway musical, “Mamma Mia,” won not a single Tony award, and the movie received no Oscars. There have been other recognitions along the way, but the single large market, the United States, had been somewhat elusive -- until recent years. Despite the spigot of songs having been shut off almost thirty years ago, ABBA tracked like a new band in recent years. There were reissues, releases of vault material, albeit limited, and even the inclusion of ABBA in later movies like “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert,” and “Muriel’s Wedding.” Then, as the twentieth century ended, the new stage musical debuted, and the movie closed out the decade with record-breaking success. All of this kept ABBA “in your face.” The ABBA factory kept grinding on, partly from Benny and Bjorn, but certainly supported by Frida and even Agnetha who came to the movie premier in Stockholm and clowned around with Meryl Streep. On the production side, the factory put the Broadway play in the Winter Garden, where great productions had played in the past – “West Side Story,” “Funny Girl,” and “Cats, and, before that, even Al Jolson, Fanny Brice, and Bob Hope. Just opening in the Winter Garden assumed that the production was at least a major production. So, was ABBA invisible? Nope. No sirree. As Benny and Bjorn continued writing more musicals, and Frida and Agentha occasionally issued a CD, ABBA was never seen as dead. So it comes as no surprise that ABBA, if it didn’t impress Americans when the group was together, certainly was not the best material for one of those “where-are-they-now?” programs. People in and out of the business did hear about ABBA at least every now and then, and with their most recent successes, it must have become apparent to the Hall of Fame members that ABBA was not going away easily. So why the reaction to the “pop” of ABBA? It would be another story to argue that the Hall has admitted multiple artists who in no way were rock musicians. But, just briefly, Miles Davis made it in 2006, and U2 in 2005. Floyd Cramer was inducted in 2003, but, okay, rock has always been a cousin of jazz and country. Of course, you could look the other way for greats like Michael Jackson, who made it in 2001, and Queen the same year. Even Billie Holliday was admitted in 2000. But James Taylor and Dusty Springfield in 1999 may have only slighted bent the mold, and, somehow, Joni Mitchell may have done some damage in 1997, but so did the Bee Gees the same year. The point is that it’s hard to quantify “rock.” Anyone who grew up in the 1960s will tell you that rock was everything then, except for some of the big-band-inspired artists who persisted through most of the decade. All that’s changed is the date. Various winners and rock celebrities who appeared on this year’s induction show were virtually lining up to say how ABBA influenced them. A course offered at Indiana University defines rock and roll as everything but the kitchen sink: “The course begins with an overview of ancestors and influences: blues, boogie-woogie, jazz, swing, country & western, gospel and popular music, and the crossover success of rhythm & blues acts that marked the true birth of rock & roll. The focus then shifts to the cataclysmic arrival of Elvis Presley and the careers and musical styles of Chuck Berry, Bo Diddley, Little Richard, Fats Domino, Buddy Holly, the Everly Brothers and other Founding Fathers, and continues through fifties R&B, doo-wop, the soul pioneers Ray Charles, Sam Cooke & Jackie Wilson and the early sixties pop landscape of Phil Spector, the Brill Building writers, the teen idols, the Twist and American Bandstand.” Somehow, after all that history, ABBA showed up to collect it induction award. So, seeing the show from the point of view of the media, one would see one former winner after another give obeisance to the great ABBA. Joel Peresman, the president of the Hall of Fame came back stage early the night of the induction. Wearing long, slicked-back hair and a black tuxedo, he entered the side ballroom off the lobby at the Waldorf-Astoria, where the ladies and gentlemen of the press had gathered, much the same way the movie stars go backstage after picking up their Academy Awards. The room was set up with a half-dozen rows of hotel chairs facing a stage where the logos of the Hall of Fame; FUSE, the network carrying the program; and Continental Airlines were emblazoned in black on a white canvas background. It was noisy and a little rowdy, as reporters gathered on one end of the room to grab up the free food and soft drinks, and others, around the perimeter of the room plugged in laptops and video cams atop heavy tripods on black stands, which gave them the dominant look in the room. In front of the canvas backdrop was a two-foot-high stage. “When will the program end tonight?” was one question tossed to Peresman. He wouldn’t say precisely because “we aren’t like the other award shows. We don’t cut people off.” “And when are you going to accept public nominations?” He just shook his head and noted that the nominations and final choices come from their industry-voter members. After all, that’s how the Academy does it. But then, of course, the question that was on everyone’s mind was sallied forth from somewhere in the sea of jornos. “Was there much controversy over ABBA?” Of course that question was due to be asked. No one asked about Genesis, or the Hollies, or Jimmy Cliff, or even The Stooges. Just ABBA. “We didn’t get that much feedback,” said the CEO. Oh sure. Not much. He went on to explain that ABBA had a “song structure” that was met with a “different perception when it came out.” “Different” is like “interesting,” two words that seem to say a lot but say exactly zip. Do you hate something? Say it’s “different.” Do you not want to embarrass someone? Say their act is “interesting.” Then he began to speak again, and only a syllable came out before he apparently thought better of it and took another question. He switched to something about the history of the Hall and why the induction was moved out of Cleveland. But the syllable he uttered was none other than “bub.” Was bub the first syllable in “bubblegum,” as in bubblegum music? Is that what he was going to say in reference to ABBA? Why yes! He was going to say something about bubblegum music as it related to ABBA! Bubblegum music was the type of music that, in America, was associated in the 1960s and 1970s with groups like the 1910 Fruitgum Company, the Ohio Express, the Archies, and the Lemon Pipers. It was noted for being contrived and written to appeal only to teenagers and pre-teens in an assembly-line manner. In other words, it was fun to listen to, but it was basically an empty type of music-lite which did not make much of a mark on the industry. Had ABBA somehow been perceived as bubblegum? Fun, but not substantial? Maybe it was a slip of the tongue. Perhaps he was going to say something else that started with “bub.” But the dictionary doesn’t list many – there is bubble, bubkes (a Yiddish word for “nothing”), bubo (a swelling of the lymph gland), and bubonic plague. Not likely any of those words would come from a RnRHoF executive on induction night, would they? No, it must have been “bubblegum,” almost certainly. There doesn’t seem to be much doubt that someone was going to try on the bubblegum outfit on ABBA, but changed his mind. It really opens a whole discussion about ABBA that has been closeted forever. Was it “pop” that made rockers fear ABBA, or was it the perception that their music was as shallow as most disc-jockeys’ attention span. Sitting among the reportorial hoi-polloi, one hears comments from other news coverers. “Every worker at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is snotty,” said one fellow to the left who wore a Rolling Stones logo on his cap. When Peresman cleared off the stage to make way for other luminaries, conversations seemed to return to ABBA – was their induction justified? Would it “harm” the Hall’s reputation? Everyone within hearing range seemed to think it would do no harm. Considering that ABBA had broken the floodgates, could Barbra Streisand be the next inductee? After all, Madonna got in a year or so ago. It’s true that Streisand was not rock, but did she influence rock? Was ABBA rock? Did the group influence rock? Many said yes. Even Carole King, one of the presenters, went out of her way to note that she’s 68 and looks great (she does), and then took a question about ABBA. “It’s great about ABBA,” she said. “It’s great that there are any women in rock and roll.” Sort of reminds one of a comment from Perry Como, the great American crooner, as he reached his final years, said one evening: “It’s great to be here tonight; it’s great to be anywhere tonight.” But King was quick to note that ABBA wasn’t her very favorite music. That award went to James Taylor, with whom she is currently doing a tour, and the first time she heard “You’ve Got a Friend.” It was “jawdropping,” she pointed out. Chris Isaak, who did an Elvis number in the program later that evening, said, “I love ABBA, I do, I do, I do. I’m a huge Connie Francis fan… I’m excited to see ’em here.” It was an appropriately and diplomatically cute comment. And his mention of Connie Francis was a direct kiss to the talent of Agnetha. Fans would know how Agnetha regarded Connie Francis as a model for herself. So if you like Connie Francis, you must like Agnetha. That was the logic. The actual show was just starting by then, and the stars were taking the back elevator down from the third-floor ballroom to the press room, to greet the public. Some held their Hall of Fame statuettes. Ronnie Spector, who would go on that evening to embarrass herself in her painfully off-key attempt to sing, told the group that Eric Burdon was going to perform later. The press room had anything but neatly appointed members. Some of the men wore sport-logo clothes or large, disheveled hair while some of the female reporters actually dressed up in long or short dresses, plenty of red hair, and virtually everyone with a camera. After Fefe Dobson and Maroon 5 made appearances before the media, the room got really crowded. Word had gotten around that Benny and Frida were going to speak to the room long before their scheduled slot on the show, which was at the end. The FUSE emcees were two young public-relations women in very short black skirts and smart little jackets who were apparently not used to running an event like this. One mispronounced the word ABBA, noting when challenged that it is pronounced differently in Europe. First, though, Rob Thomas from Matchbox 20 made an appearance. He was scheduled to sit in for someone later that evening. Finally, or would it be better to say intermediately, Benny and Frida stepped up on the stage. They were both in black, he in a waiter’s jacket and black shirt, sort of a rocker’s tuxedo, and she was in a shiny black jacket, probably leather, with small lapels and her (now) blonde hair in a shoulder-length little flip. After some perfunctory questions, someone asked “How does it feel to be the first non-English-speaking group of Sweden? Whooo!” Benny replied after a little smile, “No, it’s quite amazing. I don’t know what it says but…” Then Frida finished his sentence, amazingly like a wife might do for a husband. After all, they were married. Once. “We actually never talked about it like that,” she said. Then she went on to mention that she (and, by extension, Agnetha, one might suppose) were among a minority of female members of the Hall – sixteen percent by Frida’s reckoning. They then both talked about how pleased they were to give “Gimme, Gimme, Gimme” to Madonna for use in her song “Hung Up.” The reporter mentioned that Madonna’s use of the song introduced ABBA to a “wider audience” than ABBA had had. Benny, who had to have the question repeated three times, finally heard it and instantly reacted to that last part. “I don’t think her audience is wider,” said Benny. Oooo. ABBA vs. Madonna! Who has the wider audience? Was that pride – or arrogance — from Benny? Of course, he went on to say how much he liked good Madonna’s rendition, maybe to soften the blow of his previous comment. He said, “It’s a really good recording.” Twice. Then, a long question to bring together most of the buzz of the evening was pitched from the media: “ABBA is considered to be one of the greatest pop groups ever, but now rock artists today talk about what a big influence you’ve been on them and how much they admire you. How does it make you feel that now that ABBA is sort of getting its artistic ‘cred’ that maybe they didn’t have earlier on?” Benny, his hands neatly folded during the question, remained in that pose and, after a short pause, said, “That feels good.” He hung on to the word “good” longer than necessary. He also noted how much they all enjoyed what they did, and Frida added she too enjoyed it. “We did a great job back then,” she said. Then she was asked whether she had seen Phil Collins that evening. She said she did and referred to him as a “lovely, wonderful friend of mine,” and Benny added in a mock-pugnacious voice, “I met him too,” which got a laugh from the reporters. But the word in the building was that Collins had not shown proper respect to Frida, and that she was just being diplomatic. The last question was about whether she would work with Jon Lord of Deep Purple on an upcoming album. “No, no,” said Frida. Then she noted “We are very close friends,” but that he was very particular. “We’ll see,” she concluded, “maybe in the future.” Then, there was some general confusion. Everyone, it seemed, started shouting questions at the pair, until one voice could be heard above the din. “Will we ever heard you sing again?” yelled a strong voice. “I don’t know,” said Benny to someone in the audience, but he was apparently not referring to that last question. Then Benny and Frida, exited the stage to go back into the induction. By now the other inductions had started. Probably because of ABBA’s great popularity, it was slated near the end to receive the award. That’s why they give out the Oscar for Best Picture last, isn’t it? Later, backstage, Jimmy Cliff, who was being inducted that night, came onstage with Wyclef Jean, who said, “I wouldn’t be here without Jimmy Cliff. I’m a little Jimmy Cliff.” The journalists and PR people packed in the room had hardly a question to ask them. It was embarrassing. Meanwhile, The Stooges were being inducted, and a wild frenzy was seen on monitors in front of the room as Iggy Pop removed his shirt, showing a knarled, veiny bare, hanging-skin, too-much-information chest. But before he did that, he gave the finger – two of them, actually – to the crowd and said, “It’s an industry, and it’ll stay and industry if it makes the right decisions.” Whoa. Pithy statement. What did he mean by that? Later, when they came backstage, Iggy was fast to note, “Never gonna retire, baby; never gonna slow down!” It was strange a little later to see Steve Van Zandt induct the Hollies, not because they didn’t deserve it. They were, after all, one of the best and most prolific groups of the 60s and 70s. Who could ever forget “Bus Stop” or “He Ain’t Heavy”? But Van Zandt, with his customary rag cap, just seemed ready to whip out the machine gun and do some dirty work for Tony Soprano. Yes, he was a key member of Springsteen’s E-Street Band, but, somehow, it was weird. And, of course, he too was asked the topic of the evening. “ABBA,” Van Zandt said, “They weren’t part of my world.” It seemed a very candid statement. “It was a pop thing,” he went on “Their music transcended the genre of pop. They sort of rose above all categories. The umbrella is getting bigger and bigger. Madonna has the spirit of rock and roll. Rock and roll is the common ground. But the infrastructure to make groups famous is not there anymore.” It was a perceptive speech, and a good analysis of changes in the industry. The old radio stations have lost their influence. Popular music of all sorts is split into myriad channels so that none of them have enough force to catapult a group into international stardom anymore; at least not too often. But the point was made. ABBA rises above all categories. Does that explain their presence among the inductees? There was a poignant moment later when Graham Nash came out with the Hollies. Why was the music of the Hollies and of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young so enduring? He was asked to explain. “You have to realize what they did,” he said, “how their music resonated throughout the world among millions and millions of people.” Everyone else the rest of the evening talked about how great each group was, as well as the non-performers who were honored that night. Later on, when Barry and Robin Gibb came out to induct ABBA, Robin said of the group, “Their music will live forever.” Barry, seeming a little drunk and garbled, listened as Robin said, “Two hundred years from now, they’ll still be singing ABBA songs, hopefully along with ours.” Back at the induction ceremonies upstairs, Frida and Benny came up to claim their statuettes. “It’s like being at a private rock-and roll party,” she said with a smile. She went on to thank Stikkan Anderson, the “fifth member” of ABBA. She also tried to reply to the evening’s topic of “why ABBA?” “If we didn’t have the blues,” she said, “we had some kind of blues.” Added Benny, “If all the members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame never existed, what would the world be like then? Think about that. I think it would be very dull.” Actually, Frida was the one who began speaking. After walking up (Benny first) to the tune of “Dancing Queen,” she noted that ABBA broke up in 1982 and said, “I never think we will reunite again. It’s too late for that.” All of this talk must have influenced Benny a few weeks later when he mused over the notion of reforming while doing a British talk show. Many of the other inductees over the years were the “inspiration and role models” for ABBA, Frida had said. She apologized for Bjorn and Agnetha not being there, “but they send their love,” she said. Agnetha, whom Frida had spoken with that day, was proud to be inducted. Then, she thanked the fans, “our very loyal fans all around the world. Some of them are here today.” She noted one who had come from Australia. Next, she thanked Jonathan, her grandson, an earringed heavy metal musician who waved backed her with a massively covered tattooed arm. Next, it was Benny’s turn. “It is so absolutely incredible to stand here,” he began. When he grew up in Sweden in the fifties, he said, there was only one radio channel and it didn’t play rock and roll. It was more like, “Swedish folk music, Italian arias, French chansons, German schmalzten, John Philip Sousa and – not so bad, actually because, put them all together, and some of it is what you hear from ABBA records… above the 59th what do you call it, north latitude, from eastern Russia, through Finland, into Scandinavia, there’s this melancholy belt, sometimes mistaken for the vodka belt. When you live in a country like Sweden with five, six months of snow, and the sun disappears like totally for two months, that would be reflected in the work of artists. I believe it’s so. It’s definitely in the Swedish folk music.” He said you can hear the melancholy in Russian music… and you can see it in the eyes of Greta Garbo… actually you can hear it in some of the songs of Frida and Agetha too. And for those who are observant enough, it might be spotted in a Bergman movie.” But the record shops were Benny’s connection back then, he said. He bought his first record – Jailhouse Rock – in 1957, “and the great B side, ‘Treat Me Nice.’ And from there on there was no turning back.” If it weren’t for records like that, “We would not be here tonight,” he said. Then it was time for an “ABBA song,” and Faith Hill, the country singer was brought out to sing “The Winner Takes it All.” It is difficult to comment on Faith’s rendition, because no one has ever been able to cover ABBA sufficiently. It’s the reason why ABBA is ABBA. It’s the sound, it’s the music, and it’s those two lovely voices. Why did the producers pick that song for her, one of the hardest to sing? Or was she stupid enough to pick it herself? Does her vanity run that high? It’s one of those decisions that someone makes and no one questions, and somehow it gets to the point of actually happening — and smarter heads did not prevail. This woman won five Grammys? How is that possible? How could she be so honored yet not able to hit half the notes? Note from one reporter in the press room as she began: “She going to murder it.” And, of course, she did. She howled and shrieked, and all ABBA fans could do was think of Agnetha. Her voice was so loud in the press room, no one could ignore that screech. Even tough reporters sat respectfully, shaking their heads. Later, when Faith Hill came backstage to address the media, someone asked her if she is gong to put that song on her next album. “The thought crossed my mind to put “Winner” on my album,” she said, “but no.” Good call. Maybe some day, when an eight-year-old child visits the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland on some rustbelt tour of the Midwest, he or she will stop for a moment before the ABBA display to hear the sweet tones of Frida and Agnetha. At that moment, perhaps it will all be worth it.   Copyright 2010 nothingspecial.org. Use only with permission.