Those who believed the hologram tour idea was dead (or for the dead), are dead wrong. Now that ABBA has resurrected the medium, I suggest we let our excitement overcome us.
We’re all united by a solitary thing. The longing for a band we missed out on. We might have been born too late, too late to purchase tickets, or bitterly, those we paid to see and witness did not meet our expectations, and certainly didn’t play the glory day songs we all know. Those bastards.
It’s indeed a problem. But it’s another circumvented by the poking hands of science, highlighted by the unexpected return of the original supergroup from Sweden, ABBA. It seems Bjorn, Agnetha and the other two betas are due to return to our clapping consciousness in the form of a hologram.
Which, if you think about it, is a smart move. Save for a cameo in Mamma Mia (starring as their own corpses), they’ve let their music speak for them. Now, I don’t want to talk, about things they’ve gone through, but they’re back, and that is worthy of merit. Especially considering you’d imagine that they’d be coming back as something only the dead has, which would be their sparkled disco prime.
Don’t call it a comeback tour, call it a return to their younger bodies.
The broadcast is being put together by Simon Fuller, the bent mind that gave the world American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance. So, this is clearly Fuller’s third strike, but let us give him a chance. According to a 2016 post on ABBA’s Facebook page, the event will feature “the very latest in digital and virtual reality technology.” Which was 2016, and nothing new has been announced on the tech front, bar the promise of new material.
Which is exciting. We all collectively lost the plot when Tupac Shakur unexpectedly headlined Coachella, but the euphoria left with his second funeral, enabled by the death of the company who resurrected his corpse. What ABBA’s move also represents is an opportunity to take hologram touring seriously, as those four possess the GDP of Sweden, and have the financial backing to do it, and do it properly.
On a personal note, I’d pay all the money I have to see my Mum do her off-key butchering of “Voulez Vous” in the face of a holographic representation of her idols. Nb: Her version is about the pastries that sound alike.
Disco ravaged maternal figures aside, the possibilities are endless. Not just with bands, but also with their legendary performances. Think about it. Pre-cocksnot Morrissey fronting The Smiths in 1986, sure. Pre-overdose Jim Morrison and The Doors at the Hollywood Bowl in 1968, done. The OG narcolept Jeff Fatt leading the original Wiggles at your rich cousin’s twelfth birthday in 1997, Fucking-A.
Bjorn, talk to your bankers and get it done. It’s for all of us. Spare us from hearing that phrase that cripples all of us: You missed out, man.