Der dunkle Engel

I think that translates as "The Dark Angel," although personally, I like the sound of "Der schwarze Engel" better. More dramatic.

Look, I'm still struggling with French. Don't expect miracles in the Germanic languages anytime soon.

This is the incomparable Nina Hagen (I mean, really, who else is this extraordinary?) performing "Like an Angel Passing through My Room" for what appears to be a German TV tribute concert to ABBA, the Swedish Fab Four. Despite some gasping for air between verses and the occasional glance at what? a teleprompter?,* I like this version. For one, it's Nina Hagen singing ABBA! Wow! For another, Nina really shows off the drama of the song and her own operatic training. The performance hints at the hey-kids-let's-put-on-a-show musical leanings of ABBA's songwriters, Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus. Chess, Kristina från Duvemåla, and now Hjälp sökes--the tradition of the musical was there all along, if we had just paid better attention.

Over time, this has become one of my favorite ABBA songs. Oh, it's no "Mamma Mia" or "If It Wasn't for the Nights." Nevertheless, of late I have found myself humming along to it in the shower in the morning, sitting at my desk during the day, or while I'm running on the treadmill at the gym in the evening. It's a far more subtle, complex song, something that ABBA isn't generally recognized for, but which I think they should be.

"Like an Angel" was the last track on their last studio album, The Visitors. Even though they would release two more singles ("The Day Before You Came" and "Under Attack") and begin work on another studio album ("Just Like That"), this song seems like the perfect coda to their oeuvre.

Half awake and half in dreams
Seeing long forgotten scenes
So the present runs into the past
Now and then become entwined, playing games within my mind
Like the embers as they die
Love was one prolonged good-bye
And it all comes back to me tonight
In the gloom
Like an angel passing through my room

So this is goodbye. But goodbye forever? Is this the state experienced before sleep? Or is it the one lived just before death?

In retrospect, it definitely sounds like goodbye forever. Within a year the group disbanded, unable to complete their next album, and each pursuing his or her own musical interests. The times were changing, and even a quirky musical masterpiece like "The Day Before You Came" failed to make much impact on the charts in the English-speaking world. In 1982, Frida released a solo album, produced by Phil Collins. Agnetha would follow suit in 1983 with an album produced by Mike Chapman. Soon afterwards, the Bs would release the Chess concept album, created with Tim Rice.

The four of them made an appearance on Swedish TV in 1986 and at the occasional private event afterwards. But they wouldn't intentionally join together again until the premiere of the movie version of Mamma Mia! in Stockholm in 2008.

* * *

Among the many varied thoughts I've had in my head of late, ABBA once again keeps skating across the surface of my mind. It is odd sometimes to think that a group so decidedly heterosexual and goyishe would have such a deep impact on my life. But the Swedish Fab Four came along at a significant crossroads for me--puberty, self-awareness, discovering music and the world around me, the '70s. I think they provided a safe way for me to recognize my "difference"--my gayness, my feelings, my intellect, my worldview--without making it a harsh, frightening experience.

The world is harsh enough and the reality around us could be described as frightening on a good day (and those don't come by that often). ABBA gave me joy, an outlet for my emotions, and space for comfort and security. While the group's members were sexy and attractive, they weren't overtly sexual, even when singing sexed-up songs ("Voulez-Vouz," "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)." They sang often about love and loss, but they sang about friendship ("The Way Old Friends Do," "Chiquitita," "Happy New Year"); the mind, fears, angst, and loneliness ("Me and I," "I'm a Marionette," "The Visitors (Crackin' Up)"); the quirkiness, challenges, and disappointments of life ("Head Over Heels," "Slipping Through My Fingers," "Our Last Summer"); and even left-of-center politics ("Soldiers," "The Visitors").

It wasn't always deep, and it wasn't always great (catchy, yes). There are songs that make even a die-hard fan like me cringe over their goofiness. But it always seemed as though everything ABBA did was with care, purpose, and love. The fact that everything they did had a slight off-kilterness to it, that it wasn't in perfect English, that they sometimes wore the strangest costumes, and that it wasn't even remotely American made it, for me, all the more charming, engaging, and meaningful.

I didn't have a horrible childhood; in fact, it was pretty good. I wasn't unloved by my family; far from it, in fact--I've never felt anything but love from my parents and siblings. But as a child (and come to think of it, even as an adult) living in a culture that didn't recognize me, that often rejected me, that I lived far outside of, that I didn't feel a part of, perhaps I needed some extra affection from the world. And I got that from a Swedish pop group that seemed as quirky, misunderstood, slightly awkward, and "underdoggy" as I felt then.

I'm different than I was then--and then again, I'm not. ABBA was there then and is here again now.  When I need a little more love and comfort, their songs let me know I'm not so odd and alone after all.

__________

* This is just me being cheeky, Nina Hagen fanbase. I think the teleprompter is unlikely. Nina apparently sang a German version of this song during some concerts.