Introduction
ABBA’s Forgotten Step: The Baby Food Advertisement of 1973
In the glittering history of ABBA, most fans remember the dazzling lights of Eurovision, the sequined costumes, and the world tours that defined a generation. But tucked away in a corner of their story is a chapter so ordinary, so unexpected, that it almost feels out of place: in 1973, before global fame embraced them, ABBA lent their voices and smiles to an advertisement for baby food.
At that time, the group was still on the cusp of transformation. Agnetha, Björn, Benny, and Anni-Frid were known in Sweden, but they had not yet become the worldwide sensation that would dominate charts for decades. They were artists with ambition, waiting for their chance, and like many musicians still finding their footing, they said yes to opportunities that seemed far from glamorous. The baby food commercial was one of them.
The idea itself was disarmingly simple. Instead of shining under stage lights, the four young performers appeared in a gentle, almost domestic setting. Their harmonies were soft, nurturing, and warm—perfectly aligned with the message of trust and care that the product wanted to convey. For a moment, they weren’t international icons. They were ordinary people, sharing in the tenderness of family life.
Looking back, the choice feels symbolic. Before they would belt out anthems like Waterloo and Dancing Queen, before their music became synonymous with glitter balls and discotheques, ABBA was grounded in something familiar: the ordinary rituals of everyday life. The baby food advertisement, in its simplicity, reflected an innocence that contrasted sharply with the meteoric rise awaiting them.
What’s more remarkable is how this small project captures a truth about the music industry. Even legends begin humbly. The commercial was not a mistake or an embarrassment; it was a stepping stone, a reminder that every journey to greatness often includes unexpected stops. For ABBA, it was a moment of sincerity that revealed a side fans rarely saw: the human faces behind the iconic voices.
Archival footage of the ad, when revisited by fans today, feels almost surreal. Agnetha’s golden hair frames a smile that is both shy and radiant. Benny’s playful glance hints at the charisma he would later bring to grand stages. Frida’s poise, even in such a modest production, shines through with quiet confidence. Björn, steady and thoughtful, carries the presence of a man on the verge of discovery. Together, they radiated warmth—a warmth that would, in just a few short years, envelop the world.
The baby food commercial didn’t sell millions of records, nor did it win international awards. But in a peculiar way, it contributed to the legend. It reminds us that ABBA’s magic was not only in their ability to capture the world’s attention, but also in their ability to make the simplest human emotions—love, trust, and care—resonate.
Today, when fans revisit that obscure piece of history, they do so with affection. It is proof that even superstars once stood in ordinary places, lending their talent to modest causes. And perhaps that is the true beauty of ABBA’s story: before the glitter, there was gentleness; before the stadiums, there was sincerity; and before the legacy, there was simply a song for something as humble as baby food.