Obvious it may be, but ABBA is a singles band. There is no shame in that, especially when an artist has as many hits as the Swedish pop group does. Plenty of quality spreads across their studio albums, not even one with more than a sole hidden gem worth returning to. The Album is an apt title for ABBA. It is as it says, and that’s as literal as the band can be. But within The Album is the promise of some real quality. A few of their better-known hits are here, and it seems the band are keen to build up towards that spirit of lighter fun. It’d come to a head on their career-best album after The Album, but this still stands as a very solid piece of work. ABBA had improved over time, that much can be heard and obviously so, but it’s in the detailing of better stories for their consistent Europop charms, that’s what matters most. You can hear that grinding on with The Album.
Before all those pop thrills and spills, though, is arguably the most emotionally powerful song ABBA wrote. Eagle is a shocking turn from the band and its promising introduction to the tone of this album, the still light vocal qualities paired with an adaptation of spirited flight, it’s a step beyond the love and loss often heard. It’s the use of the bird as a metaphor that stands as more striking than anything, even if it’s not a masterclass in storytelling. Instrumentally strong, that’s the constant ABBA has that some may take for granted, particularly on The Album. That emotional suggestion, the deeper feelings of escapism that come from Eagle, are swapped out rather quick. A whiplash effect as the band brings it all back to changing your mind, the star-crossed lovers suggestiveness once more the point of the music. It’s a step down in the context of what The Album had been building towards, but isolated, one of ABBA’s very best can be found in Take a Chance on Me.
What follows is relatively solid work from ABBA. The sort of fodder which appears on the preceding albums, the type of noise which would be amplified and expanded on with Voulez-Vous. One Man, One Woman is an overly sentimental crash out, the life and chance, the change made by the unnamed placeholder people who listeners can still project themselves onto a bit ridiculous and expectant. But such is the case for much pop music. The standards are low, ABBA hits the ceiling of romance in music for the period, and a fade out from those strings, the piano too, is inevitable. When you can predict where a song is set to head before it gets into the groove, then it’s a losing battle. Instrumentally timid moments is what The Album must contend with. Experimentation but with no satisfying result for Move On, for instance.
The Name of the Game is a tough one, too. Iconic but sloppy, never quite convincing of its instrumental boom or emotional ties. The Album has one too many of those moments but seems to pull itself back together in time for a three-song medley, The Girl with the Golden Hair. Solid work all the way through, though Thank You for the Music stands out. I’m a Marionette is the best summary of The Album there is. Instrumentally fascinating at times, with a surprise electric guitar thrill to it, but played up and off with the same style of a musical. Such is the point of the three-part medley, but it never feels strong enough to pull off the heightened drama. ABBA are often quite placid but there are moments of brilliance from the band here, just never focused on for all that long because they fear losing their pop-friendly tone.
