In a village near Swansea, Wales, is a house that sits empty for most of the year. Occasionally the owner returns, and insists everything be ”very quiet and peaceful” during his stay.
”People are puzzled that I am never there,” Mark Thomas says. ”But I have made a point that nobody there knows what I do.”
And if they did, would they recognise him? For the past decade Thomas has set aside his own looks, clothes, music and millennium to give himself to a whole-body evocation of a man he believes is a latter-day Beethoven — Bjorn Ulvaeus of Abba.
In 1999 the session drummer and guitarist created a stage show, Abba Mania, which by 2002 was in London’s West End.
Re-creating Abba’s final 1979 concert, he thought, might ease the frustration of many long-term fans, including himself.
”I never got to see them in concert, which was a huge shame,” mourns Thomas, who was in his mid-teens when the Swedish sensation disbanded in 1982.
”But friends of mine have just about every piece of footage ever recorded. I have seen it all. Which was the start of this — I was aware that there were so many people who would have loved to see them live, but never did.”
Abba Mania has proved relentless. It arrives in Melbourne this week after more than 2000 shows and a trail of gratified fans across Europe, Asia and the US.
A three-month season on the Gold Coast has assured the band of that celebrated statistic: One in every two Australian households has an Abba album.
”We have some people six or seven years of age, and we have people in their 80s and 90s getting up to dance,” Thomas says.
And now, so comfy is he in the glistening jumpsuits that Bjorn himself recently said were ”absolutely and incredibly without any sort of taste”, he sometimes forgets where and who he is.
”You get used to seeing yourself like this so you don’t think anything of it,” he says, recalling one pre-concert stroll in a British theatre.
”I opened a door that led directly into the bar — 600 people waiting to see the show, having a drink.
And I’m there in my Waterloo costume, wig, boots . . . Fortunately everyone shook my hand.”
His clothes were perfect, for Thomas is meticulous about historical detail. Preparing for Abba Mania, he spent weeks freeze-framing Abba videos to note every sequin, and scrutinises the garb of band members Phil Hawkes (Benny), Lydia Griffiths (Agnetha) and Carley Broome (Anni-Frid).
But dedication to Abba demands a great deal more from a musician. There is a good reason, he says, why so few singers can successfully cover Abba’s songs — they are phenomenally difficult.
”I genuinely believe that people will look back on Abba the way Beethoven and Brahms are remembered,” he says.
”I’ve replicated all their vocal harmonies and string lines, and when you delve into how complex these songs are to unravel, they are every bit as complicated as Brahms and Liszt.
”There would be 250 layers of tracks going on in one bar, which is numbing. You may have 32 string arrangements going on. And then the vocal harmonies are layered, and the guitar and drums and piano. It is a mountain. It is the defining music of that era.”
Thomas had a good head start; he was 10 and tapping his first drumkit when Abba won the 1974 Eurovision with Waterloo, and became intrigued by SOS, Mamma Mia, Fernando and the genre-busting that enabled these lustrous melodies.
”First and foremost, the girls were hugely attractive,” he says.
”I was only 10 but my eyes were already open. I had every poster as well. Second, I just liked how different their songs were. They could do a disco song, a power ballad; Fernando had a Spanish theme. Dancing Queen is possibly the world’s finest three-minute pop song. Every song was different. I found it very brave. No other band was doing that; they did formulaic things. Abba never ever played safe.”
Furthermore, they hardly ever played live. At the height of their popularity in 1975-79 the Abba members were in their 30s and had small children. Their brilliant videos, directed by Lasse Hallstrom, were to make amends for not touring.
”More power to them. I wish I could stay home,” says Thomas, who straight after the Australian tour will play 12 gigs in 12 days across France, travelling overnight in a bus.
”I so rarely get home. It’s the same for everybody in the show. Most of our lives are in hotel rooms.”
Abba Mania, The Palms at Crown, February 18-March 1. Tickets: $59.90-$74.90. Bookings: 1300 795 012.