If you were to plot their singles on a graph, then 'Fernando' would stand out as something of a curveball in Abba's march to pop perfection. If 'Mamma Mia' and 'SOS' were signs of an engine sparking and firing into life then the campfire singalong of 'Fernando' serves to put the brakes on the forward momentum that had been building and shift them back a step or two. Part of the 'blame' for this is rooted in the fact that 'Fernando' was originally written and recorded as a solo effort by Anni-Frid in 1975, a version that proved so popular it was resurrected as a band recording, albeit with radically different lyrics.
Ah yes, the lyrics - with love and its loss as Abba's stock in trade to date, this tale of ageing Mexican revolutionaries reminiscing about their fighting days would make for odd subject matter for any number one, let alone glam slam Swedish pop stars. Yet any bewilderment is quickly short circuited by the cracked and broken way Anni-Frid pitches the second 'Fernando'. With no smiles, it lets you know that regardless of what anyone thinks about Abba going all Townes Van Zandt, all concerned are taking it seriously; 'Fernando' is not presented as a novelty and the suppressed violence of the downbeat lyrics:
"I was so afraid Fernando, we were young and full of life and none of us prepared to die
And I'm not ashamed to say the roar of guns and cannons almost made me cry"
generate an incredibly maudlin atmosphere totally at odds with the image Abba usually presented to the world. So much so you can almost hear the sigh of relief at the chorus when we're given something to sing along to.
Yet for me, it's this very factor that makes 'Fernando' not quite the success it could have been. It's not that the band were consciously keeping one ear on their commercial side by adding a happy tune at odds with the preceding verses; rather, it's the manner of its execution. The jump from darkness to light always reminds me of the similar stroke pulled in The Beatles' 'Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds', but whereas they had Starr's three thumping drum beats to mark the shift to the chorus (which by themselves are a clumsy mechanism for making the link), 'Fernando' free falls into it, dragging its listeners along but then leaving them stranded when it's over and the shadows start falling again. You never know what you're meant to do with the song, whether to listen respectfully or join hands to sing along and its this uncertainty that makes it unsatisfying.
I've always thought of 'Fernando' in terms of naivety within the band rather than as a consciously brave departure from the norm. It has an undeniably memorable tune and, as this is what Abba are famed for, nobody can complain too loudly. But in a parallel universe, Abba followed it up with something other than 'Dancing Queen' and with momentum lost, their career sputtered to an early close. But of course they did follow it up with 'Dancing Queen', a song so strong it scorched their back catalogue clean and set them up for immortality. So no harm done. But that's another story.
Wednesday, 1 July 2009
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