Take a look at that tracklist. Christ. One-hit wonder is a term thrown around all too much, but at this point in their careers, ABBA were looking for the first. Waterloo is their chance to breach the charts and remain in the public eye forever through cultural assimilation taking place solely in function halls connected to rugby clubs and musicals thrown onto the West End lest the stage get dusty. That is perhaps harsh on ABBA, the quartet which has provided so much joy to so many not just through their music, but through the commercialisation of it. ABBA is now a brand, like Nike or Teflon. They are household items which are used at any moment, be it a night out with the ABBA experience or a night in with the ABBA albums. No escape. On the cycle goes. But there is much to love about their variety of pop sound, although Waterloo is lacking that crucial, memorable blow.
Dig deep into your hearts and brace yourself, then, for Waterloo. An incredible title track more for the piano work and thumping, catchy style. Vocally impressive, too, even if the lyrics are utter nonsense. ABBA would get away with this time after time. You cannot deny the influence on pop music Waterloo had, but it’s the only song that can hold that claim. Honey, Honey, at a push, but it’s the Amanda Seyfried version which has muscled its way into pop culture, anyway. For those wanting an experience from ABBA that is built on more than their obvious hits, this will prove to be a disappointing second album from the group. They don’t appear to have learned all that much from their debut, the abysmally short-sighted Ring Ring. Even that has one or two moments of interest, though, which is at least a sole reason to visit the album. It does not take long for Waterloo to fall to pieces.
Second track Sitting in the Palmtree is an awkwardly placed, inevitable holiday song which is meant to capture the good grace of Margaritaville. ABBA makes the mistake of stepping on Jimmy Buffet’s turf. They can’t hold a candle to the easy-going, luau-attending master. Much of Waterloo sounds utterly vapid, like ABBA are trying to play catch-up with the Hawaii beat which had been a big hit for Elvis Presley’s films. King Kong Song is the sort of writing you throw at a primary school Christmas production, not feature on your second album two songs after your biggest hit. Puzzling, but then, ABBA has never had the strength to piece together a full album. The trouble is that every time you say something like “ABBA has no good album tracks,” they pull out an occasional bit of brilliance, like the floaty deep cut, Hasta mañana. A shame they didn’t do it more, but a playful, fantastic song.
Loved-up nonsense like Dance (While the Music Still Goes On) is a frequent fixture for ABBA around this point. Even Honey Honey is a little off the mark, though that’ll be because a film with Pierce Brosnan singing does a far better job of it than ABBA does with this weightless piece here. Waterloo is a surprising slog. Sure, every pop act has some filler on their albums, but it sounds as though ABBA put all of their effort into Waterloo and were so overwhelmed by Napoleon Bonaparte’s militaristic victories that they collapsed in on themselves. This is before Joaquin Phoenix butchered the French military leader’s life, too, so who knows how they got their hands on this information. Whatever the case, it serves one song well and the rest still doesn’t hold up. A pop slop festival.
