Here's another 1977 German article. I still to this day can't figure out why the press at least in writing could get the girl's names right. I understand the whole Anna-thing, Agnetha is difficult to pronounce, but why Annafrid? Never mind, here's the article.
Thanks to Matthias for the translation, and to Michael for giving me the article.
Far away in Perth (Australia) on the 12th of March ABBA's triumphant world-tour ended in
front of 20.000 spectators in the Entertainment Centre. 26 sold-out concerts, 82 hours in the plane and nearly five weeks of living in hotels have passed for Anna, Björn, Annafrid and Benny. In ABBA's staff there were 35 people who were travelling with four tons of equipment in three lorries, one coach, three limos and one private jet.
- The enthusiasm and the success that came along with the tour were amazing, said Benny after the last concert. But now all 4 of us are really happy that we can relax on our Swedish island for the next three weeks.
Particularly Anna and Annafrid are glad to have their men just for themselves again.
- Often I only saw Björn on stage and in bed, Anna said. And Annafrid admits:
- I quite liked it, to be on stage again and entertain a grateful audience.
THE ABBA-GIRLS HAVE done a great job every evening: Annafrid, when she was dancing on stage wearing tight velvet pants doing her turns with the microphone and clapping her hands on her legs with feeling. Or think of Anna, when she got rid of her robe after the show started just to show her cool dress, that fits like a second skin. Even better when both girls were twisting around wearing glamorous wigs and short dancing dresses. We show you the greatest pictures of the ABBA-gig on the following pages.
- I wouldn't have thought we looked that hot, said the blond Anna when she looked at these
BRAVO-pictures.
Björn and Benny, always a bit the odd ones out when the girls started their great show, had to confess:
- It's a weird feeling when you realize that your girl is beeing watched by thousands of eyes. Sometimes you even start to get jelous...
BY GERALD BÜCHERLMAIER