Beyond Mamma Mia!: Essential ABBA tracks, from the Gold to the obscure

If someone asked you to make a playlist of classic ABBA tunes, there’s one simple place you’d start: with the Gold. That 1992 compilation, which has served as the go-to collection of greatest hits from the iconic Swedish pop stars for nearly thirty years, went six times platinum in the U.S. (and is among the best selling albums of all time, globally) for a reason. Namely, it’s filled top-to-bottom with some of the most commercially successful songs the group ever released.

The foursome—Agnetha Fältskog, Björn Ulvaeus, Benny Andersson, and Anni-Frid Lyngstad—had already achieved some success in their native country by 1974. But it was that year, when the group became Sweden’s first victors at the Eurovision Song Contest (with “Waterloo,” notably sung in English rather than their native tongue), that ABBA found the international acclaim it had been seeking. Here in the States, that meant 20 singles in the Billboard Hot 100 during their decade of activity, nearly all of which were subsequently put together for the release of Gold.

But for a band that’s released more than 100 songs (and with the release of new album Voyage, that number is growing), any greatest-hits compilation is bound to leave some of the best material behind. Releases like 2012’s 39-track The Essential Collection goes some way toward rectifying this, but that’s still more than half the group’s discography that remains unknown to the vast majority of listeners. As a result, The A.V. Club has decided to put together an “essential ABBA” playlist, one that blends the instantly recognizable hits—you now, the songs that can entice even your reticent aunt to the family reunion dance floor—with an amalgam of the best music from the Swedes that rarely sees the light of day.

For every top-ten hit, we’ve paired it with a lesser-known number that showcases not only more great music from ABBA, but highlights the band’s penchant (soon to be followed by the cavalcade of ABBA-influenced Swedish acts over the years) for blurring genres with aplomb. While some acts have remained forever associated with disco (those poor Bee Gees just can’t seem to escape always and forever being seen as a disco band), ABBA’s reputation has evolved over the years to include its multifarious, hybrid-style music making. The following songs emphasize that point; whether getting asses on the dance floor or breaking hearts with ballads, ABBA’s talent for tuneful perfection remains singular.

“Waterloo” (1974)

“Waterloo” (1974)

“Waterloo” unfortunately has the defeatist theme of the narrator succumbing to the love she has tried to resist, with lines like “I tried to hold you back but you were stronger,” or “I feel like I win when I lose.” How about instead we just accept the song as the surrender of the international pop music world bowing to its Swedish quartet overlords After failing to conquer the 1973 Eurovision Song Contest, ABBA came back to win it all in 1974 with “Waterloo,” kicking off the band’s legendary career. While not quite fitting in with the feminist sensibilities of the ’70s, “Waterloo” boasts an inescapable hook that has made the song an irrepressible listen for decades now. In 2005, it was named the greatest song in the history of the Eurovision contest. Even the sax solo can’t kill it—so how could you ever refuse [Gwen Ihnat]

“Ring Ring” (1973)

“Ring Ring” (1973)

“Waterloo” turned ABBA into international superstars, but “Ring Ring” is the single that made them a band. Conceived with Eurovision dreams but not selected to compete, it became the lead single of ABBA’s debut album, and its Swedish radio success is said to have convinced the musicians to take the rock ’n’ roll band thing seriously. You can practically hear their sound crystallizing on this earworm, Agnetha and Anni-Frid harmonizing over a barreling wall of sound, with a bass drum begging you to clap along (plus saxophone on the Neil Sedaka-penned English version). When fame came calling, ABBA picked up the phone. [Cameron Scheetz]

“Knowing Me, Knowing You” (1977)

“Knowing Me, Knowing You” (1977)

ABBA has plenty of great breakup songs, but “Knowing Me, Knowing You” stands out. The melody in “Knowing Me, Knowing You” feels shimmery and bright, contrasting its dejected, defeated lyrics (“Now there’s only emptiness, nothing to say,” “Knowing me, knowing you, aha / We just have to face it, this time we’re through”). The juxtaposition is genius; it injects catharsis into a painful, universal experience, sounding more like an acceptance of the culmination rather than sorrow. [Tatiana Tenreyro]

“King Kong Song” (1974)

“King Kong Song” (1974)

ABBA’s discography is filled with captivating and beautifully evocative lyrics—and then there’s “King Kong Song,” a song about writing a song about a killer ape. It’s pure, gleeful cheese, and the band’s energy here is infectious, especially as they shout their way through a half-baked gorilla dance routine (in what sounds like a precursor to The B-52’s “Rock Lobster”). Nonsensical as it may be, the Waterloo cut goes too hard to be written off as a novelty, its complimentary piano and guitar chords resounding like a force of nature, elevating the quartet to proper glam-rock gods. [Cameron Scheetz]

“SOS” (1975)

“SOS” (1975)

One of the many things ABBA excels in is the feeling of romantic yearning—reflections on how love slips through fingers like sand. On “SOS,” Agnetha Fältskog tearfully ruminates on fonder times, mourning what time and distance can do to two people in love. Balancing heartbreak with joy, the chorus calls out strongly to a faraway lover, with the promise that things can return to their former glory once more—if only they hear her call. The opening piano line and the zingy synths rise up into pure ABBA magic. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

“Lovers (Live A Little Longer)” (1979)

“Lovers (Live A Little Longer)” (1979)

The words “ABBA” and “funk” aren’t seen together in a sentence nearly often enough, but this 1979 number makes the case that the Swedish group could’ve easily tacked in a Stevie Wonder-like direction musically, should they have so chosen. The swaying mid-tempo rhythm predated a host of like-minded imitators, and the vocals shift from genteel verse to fierce refrain with an intensity that usually gets swallowed by the band’s feel-good vibes. Every time the hi-hat kicks into that open-shut groove and they’re practically yelling the title phrase, it’s musical invigoration anew. [Alex McLevy]

“Fernando” (1976)

“Fernando” (1976)

“Dancing Queen” gets the most glory out of all the tracks off Arrival, but despite being only subsequently added to the American version in 1998, “Fernando” deserves just as much love. Originally written by Andersson and Ulvaeus as a solo number for Anni-Frid Lyngstad (and first released on her second album, 1975’s Frida ensam), it became one of ABBA’s biggest hits after being rerecorded by the four piece for its 1976 Greatest Hits. There’s so much that makes it one of the best ABBA songs: the serene flute leading into the song, the gentle drums, the melody that sparks an urge to slow dance. It’s a song about two fictional veterans reminiscing about their days in battle, but it can easily be mistaken for a love song, both with its stunning instrumentation and poetic lyrics. [Tatiana Tenreyro]

“As Good As New” (1979)

“As Good As New” (1979)

Kicking off 1979’s Voulez-Vous with a classical-meets-disco bang, “As Good As New” finds a rapid-fire guitar lick paired to an equally frenetic bass groove. Sure, it’s not the most lyrically ambitious song ever written—“Our love is fucking awesome, and getting better, y’hear!” is pretty much the gist of it—but it’s delivered with a sassy and fervent tone, Lyngstad and Fältskog’s voices simply overlapping as much as they harmonize, with their signature earnestness coming through in spades. It’s short, sweet, and has sing-along hooks for days; in other words, the platonic ideal of an ABBA song. [Alex McLevy]

“Super Trouper” (1980)

“Super Trouper” (1980)

By 1980, ABBA had gone on a multitude of international tours, leading to that inevitability for super-successful acts: the on-the-road song. “Super Trouper” counteracts that plight, as the weary performer gets re-energized by knowing their beloved will be in the crowd that night. “Super Trouper” refers to a certain type of arena stage spotlight, but it’s also the ideal moniker for these four performers, living up to the sparkle of their sequined jumpsuits to bring it night after night, even though “All I do is eat and sleep and sing / Wishing every show was the last show.” The song also puts that spotlight where it belongs: on those heavenly harmonizing vocals, which kick off the song like a celestial a cappella choir to elevate the fatigued complaints of life on the road. [Gwen Ihnat]

“Angeleyes” (1979)

“Angeleyes” (1979)

Songs about womanizers with glittering eyes and ill intentions can be traced through all genres of music, and ABBA is no different, giving the band’s own take on “Angeleyes.” The spirited thump of the bass drum drives the spunky song, as the narrator circles around, thinking of the one man who caused so much pain (and the good times they used to have). The chorus swoons—just as anyone would, looking into his hypnotic eyes—making it the perfect song for anyone looking to brood on an irresistible someone who did them wrong. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

“I Let The Music Speak” (1981)

“I Let The Music Speak” (1981)

One of the band’s longest tracks (it clocks in at 5:20), it’s also one of its most swooning, as liable to be mistaken for an Andrew Lloyd Webber-esque theatrical pastiche as a synth-pop stunner. A testament to the eternal power of music to help us in our darkest times, the song’s percussion-free verses and staccato choral breakdown are a clear antecedent to groups like Queen, even if it stays firmly on the side of easy-listening accessibility. No better case could be made for the idea that Andersson and Ulvaeus could have a great second career in musicals, should they so choose. Rarely do waltzes mix with pop so effectively. [Alex McLevy]

“Dancing Queen” (1976)

“Dancing Queen” (1976)

What is there left to say about arguably the greatest disco song ever written It doesn’t just begin with the refrain; it begins halfway through the fucking refrain, a bizarre violation of the rules of pop music that kicks so much ass, it’s a wonder that it didn’t become the new normal. Taking Phil Spector’s playbook and running with it straight to the top of the charts, the dance-inducing ode to dance itself keeps layering on hook after hook, as the vocal melody jumps into multiple registers and continually zigs where it formerly would have zagged. A lot of these clever inversion on typical chord progressions and musical change-ups feel old hat now, but “Dancing Queen” now seems to disco-pop somewhat akin to what The Wizard Of Oz is to cinema: It perfected elements that have since become standard issue. Digging the dancing queen, indeed. [Alex McLevy]

“If It Wasn’t For The Nights” (1979)

“If It Wasn’t For The Nights” (1979)

Like a B-side version of “Dancing Queen,” “If It Wasn’t For The Nights” is full of disco-fueled bliss, tinged with just enough loneliness to add some melancholy to your time to shine on the light-up dance floor. Instead of being young and full of enthusiasm, “If It Wasn’t For The Nights” offers Europop for those a little more weighed down by life. Grief may arrive as the sun goes, but there’s always solace in crying on the dance floor, surrounded by a bunch of strangers. [Gabrielle Sanchez]