Introduction

ABBA’s “Tiger”: A Pop Song Prowling with Hidden Depths

While ABBA is known for their catchy pop anthems, “Tiger” from their 1976 album Arrival takes a different path. This intriguing song offers a glimpse into a darker side of the band’s musical personality.

Here’s a look at the fascinating story behind “Tiger”:

  • A Song of Duality: Written by Björn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson, “Tiger” presents a fascinating duality. The upbeat tempo and catchy melody mask a darker lyrical undercurrent. The song’s title, “Tiger,” serves as a metaphor, open to interpretation. Some believe it represents the dangers lurking in the city, while others see it as a symbol of hidden desires or primal instincts.

  • The Mystery of the “Tiger”: Unlike many ABBA songs with clear narratives, the meaning behind “Tiger” remains open-ended. The lyrics offer cryptic warnings: “People who fear me never come near me, I am the tiger,” leaving listeners to ponder the true nature of the “tiger” and its message. This ambiguity adds a layer of intrigue to the song.

  • A Departure from the Norm: “Tiger” stands out within the Arrival album. While other tracks like “Dancing Queen” and “Knowing Me, Knowing You” embrace a joyful pop sound, “Tiger” injects a dose of mystery and suspense. The song’s unique blend of pop sensibilities with a darker edge showcases ABBA’s ability to experiment and surprise their audience.

Get ready for a thrilling ride with “Tiger.” The upbeat melody will draw you in, while the cryptic lyrics will leave you pondering the song’s deeper meaning. Whether the “tiger” represents the city’s underbelly or something more personal, this song is sure to spark your imagination.

Video

You Missed

“The death of Robin Gibb was not simply the result of fame or life’s choices. It was the heartbreaking conclusion of a journey marked by silent battles — struggles written into his very body long before the world ever knew his name. From the start, Robin carried an invisible burden: hereditary illness that made his health fragile. Decades later, doctors revealed the truth — cancer and intestinal complications that slowly stole his strength. Robin faced other challenges too — chronic pain, drastic weight loss, and relentless exhaustion. To cope, he relied on medications and treatments. What began as survival became a cycle: painkillers to endure, sedatives to sleep, and stimulants to keep performing. He didn’t do it for escape — he did it to keep living, to keep singing, to keep his promise to music and to fans. Food brought little comfort in his later years; his weakened body couldn’t fight back. Yet Robin still pushed himself onto stages, his fragile frame carrying a voice that remained achingly beautiful. Could he have been saved? Perhaps, with today’s science and knowledge, things might have been different. But in his time, no one fully understood the toll of genetic illness and relentless pressure. Robin trusted his doctors. He believed treatment would let him continue, if only a little longer. The sorrow deepened within the Gibb family. Barry, the eldest, bore the agony of watching Maurice and then Robin pass away, each loss tearing away a piece of the Bee Gees’ harmony. Robin’s life was a gift — a voice that was fragile yet haunting, carrying love, sorrow, and a rare humanity. But the world often took without seeing the cost. Behind the glittering disco lights stood a man quietly breaking — not from weakness, but from giving everything and asking for nothing. Robin Gibb was not only a star. He was a man of extraordinary talent with a body that betrayed him. He burned so brightly the world still feels his warmth. Yet his light faded far too soon. That is the part of the story we must remember — not only the legend, but the man who gave it all.”