ABBA Museum in Stockholm – almost thirteen years later

Returning to ABBA The Museum today felt like stepping into a time machine, though one with a few updated gears. I actually attended the opening night back in May 2013. I remember it being a typical Stockholm evening—a bit chilly, with a palpable buzz in the air as fans gathered outside. Frida was there, of course, looking as regal as ever, though Agnetha was a notable absence, staying in London to promote her solo album. There was a bit of skepticism at the time about whether she truly couldn’t make it, but the thing I remember most from that night was Tommy Körberg—whom I just saw in concert again the other night—singing Swedish House Mafia’s “Don’t You Worry Child.” It was such a beautiful, unexpected moment to hear that happening.

Thirteen years later, I found myself back at Djurgården, but this time I had the perfect companion: my friend Gustav. We’ve both been fans since childhood, and Gustav is exactly the kind of person you want by your side for a deep dive into Swedish pop history. He has a brilliant, sharp-eyed perspective on the band—a great mix of deep affection and a healthy sense of humour about the more eccentric parts of the ABBA story. We spent the day trading stories; I shared bits about the Australian “Abba-mania” of the 70s, and he filled in the gaps regarding the local industry and Swedish music culture.

The museum has evolved since my last visit. It is now a completely dedicated ABBA experience, having moved on from the broader Swedish music hall of fame elements it used to house. There is plenty of new material now, including a section on the Voyage show in London.

But the thing I was most keen to do was a bit silly: the “Fifth Member” video. It’s an interactive exhibit where you perform on stage alongside holograms of the band. I hadn’t done it back in 2013, but I felt a strong pull to do it now. I wanted to see myself up there, dancing away with my prosthetic limb visible. There’s something powerful about seeing a different kind of “ABBA avatar” on that screen—a representation of a body that looks like mine. I enjoyed it immensely, though I think I could have easily handled a much longer set!

I couldn’t leave without a souvenir, though I’m usually quite picky. Often the t-shirts can look a bit tacky, but I found a great one in the Swedish colours of blue and yellow. It’s simple and classic. The staff at the gift shop were lovely, even if they didn’t have the exact size I wanted in the museum-branded shirt.

The day ended perfectly with a long dinner at the restaurant next door. We sat for hours, moving from ABBA to our common friends and the trajectories of our own lives. It was one of those beautiful opportunities to reconnect and realise that while 13 years have passed and the world looks a little different from my perspective now, the music and the friendships remain as steady as ever.