Every concert has its own personality, but an ABBA crowd carries a different kind of energy. It feels sophisticated, confident and wonderfully unbothered.
Björn Again brought ‘The ABBA Forever Tour’ to the Philippines, turning Theatre at Solaire into one giant dance floor of Dancing Queen.
PHOTOGRAPH COURTESY OF BJORN AGAIN
Outside, the habagat was doing what it does best: bringing heavy rain, gloomy skies, and enough water to make everyone think twice about leaving the house.
Inside the concert venue, however, it was a completely different weather system.
There were sequins, laughter, familiar melodies, and an entire crowd dancing like the rain did not exist.
Björn Again, the Melbourne-based ABBA tribute band, brought its “The ABBA Forever Tour” to the Philippines this August, with shows in Cebu on 7 August and in Manila on 8 to 9 August.
For two hours, the group turned the venue into a glittering celebration of ABBA’s timeless music, performing beloved hits, including “Mamma Mia,” “Dancing Queen,” “Waterloo,” “SOS,” and “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!,” alongside ballads such as “The Winner Takes It All,” “Chiquitita,” “Fernando,” and “I Have a Dream.”
But the real stars of the night may have been the people in the audience.
For the moms, lolas, titas, and everyone who grew up with ABBA, this was more than just another concert. It was their time to shine.
As a journalist who has covered different kinds of concerts, there is something particularly healing about watching a crowd simply have a good time.
Every concert has its own personality, but an ABBA crowd carries a different kind of energy. It feels sophisticated, confident, and wonderfully unbothered.
These were people who knew the songs by heart.
You could see it in the way they sang along to “Dancing Queen,” moved to the beat, laughed with their friends, and took videos of the moments they clearly did not want to forget. Some came with their partners, others with friends or family, while some simply came because they loved the music.
And perhaps that is what made the night so special.
While the habagat continued outside, inside was a celebration of joy, nostalgia, and the simple luxury of being able to enjoy something you genuinely love.
There is something deeply moving about watching people from a generation that has spent much of their lives taking care of others finally getting a night that is entirely theirs. Mom gets to dance. Lola gets to sing. Tita gets to scream along to her favorite ABBA song. Nobody needs to explain why they are having fun.
They just are.
ABBA’s music has always had that rare ability to cross generations. Songs released decades ago continue to find new audiences, whether through family playlists, movies, karaoke sessions, weddings, or streaming platforms. For younger concertgoers, these may be classics passed down by their parents. For older fans, they can feel like the soundtrack to an entire chapter of their lives.
That is the magic of live music: it can make the past feel present again. And perhaps ABBA said it best in “Thank You for the Music”: “Thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing.” Because sometimes, music does more than entertain us. It gives us memories to return to, people to remember, and moments that remind us why we keep singing along.
And watching that unfold from a journalist’s perspective is a reminder that concerts are not always about spectacle. Sometimes, they are about witnessing people reconnect with a version of themselves they may have forgotten.
The audience at Björn Again was proof of that.
They were dressed up, they were singing, they were dancing, and for a couple of hours, the weather outside simply did not matter.
The habagat may have taken over Manila’s skies, but inside the venue, it was permanently sunny.
And for one night, Mom, Lola, and Tita were not just watching the show.
They were the Dancing Queens.
