Why Every Take On Me Cover Still Tries to Outrun a Ghost

Why Every Take On Me Cover Still Tries to Outrun a Ghost

A-ha’s "Take On Me" is basically a trap. It’s a glittering, 1980s synth-pop masterpiece that hides a vocal line so impossibly high it’s actually a bit of a nightmare for anyone brave—or foolish—enough to attempt it. Morten Harket, the man with the cheekbones that defined a decade, wasn't just singing; he was performing a high-wire act. When people look for a take on me cover, they aren't just looking for nostalgia. They’re looking for a struggle. They want to see if a human being can actually hit that final, glass-shattering high note without their lungs collapsing.

Most fail. Some succeed. A few actually change the DNA of the song.

What makes this track so weirdly durable is the contrast between the bouncy, Roland Juno-60 synth riff and the absolute desperation in the lyrics. It’s a song about a guy who is basically begging for a chance. "I'll be gone in a day or two" isn't a casual statement; it's a ticking clock. When you strip away the neon lights of 1985, you’re left with a raw, almost frantic plea. That’s why the covers that work—really work—usually ditch the synthesizers entirely.

The Weezer Factor and the Irony of the 80s

You can’t talk about this without mentioning Weezer. Honestly, their 2019 cover from The Teal Album is the one that sparked a massive resurgence in people searching for a take on me cover. Rivers Cuomo didn't try to reinvent the wheel. He leaned into the karaoke energy of it. It’s faithful. It’s fun. It features Finn Wolfhard in the music video, which was a genius marketing move to capture the Stranger Things demographic.

But here’s the thing: Weezer’s version is safe. It’s a carbon copy. It works because it’s Weezer, and they have that specific brand of "nerd-rock" irony that makes anything from the 80s feel cool again. However, if you're looking for musical evolution, you have to look toward the artists who realized that the song is actually a ballad in disguise.

Take a look at the ska-punk era. Reel Big Fish basically claimed the song for a generation of kids in baggy shorts and checkered Vans. Their version is frantic. It’s loud. It replaces the synth hook with a brass section that feels like a punch to the face. It’s one of the rare instances where a cover becomes just as "definitive" as the original for a specific subculture. It proves the song’s structure is bulletproof. You can play it at 170 BPM with trumpets, and it still holds up.

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The MTV Unplugged Revelation

In 2017, A-ha did something sort of brilliant and sort of terrifying. They covered themselves. For their MTV Unplugged - Summer Solstice performance, they slowed the tempo down to a crawl. Morten Harket, decades older but somehow still possessing that crystalline voice, sang it as a mournful, acoustic dirge.

It changed everything.

Suddenly, the "Take On Me" cover wasn't a joke or a party trick. It was high art. This version stripped away the drum machines and revealed the melancholy. If you listen to this version, you realize that the song is actually quite sad. It’s about fleeting moments. This specific arrangement influenced a wave of indie artists to try the "slow and moody" approach, which has become the standard for modern TV trailers and dramatic movie scenes.

When Irony Meets Genuine Talent

Then there’s the internet era. You’ve probably seen the videos. Someone in a bedroom with a ukulele or a loop pedal trying to navigate the bridge.

The best take on me cover in the digital age often comes from unexpected places. Look at Ninja Sex Party. It sounds like a joke name—and it is—but Dan Avidan’s vocal range is no joke. Their 2016 cover is surprisingly sincere. It respects the original’s production while adding a layer of modern crispness. It’s one of the few covers that actually attempts the original synth sounds without making them sound like a cheap MIDI file.

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Acapella groups love this song too. Pentatonix and various college groups have beaten it to death, but for a good reason. The vocal harmonies required to back up that lead vocal are a masterclass in arrangement. It’s a "final boss" song for singers. If you can do the "Take On Me" chorus well, you can do anything.

Why the High Note is a Trap

Let’s get technical for a second. The chorus of "Take On Me" reaches a high E (E5). For a male tenor, that’s deep into "chest-voice-to-falsetto" transition territory. Most people who record a take on me cover cheat. They lower the key by a step or two. They use pitch correction. They bury the vocal in reverb.

But the ones that stick are the ones where you can hear the strain.

There’s a version by the band Aqualung that is haunting. It’s just a piano and a voice. Because it’s so bare, the singer can’t hide. You hear the breath. You hear the vocal cords vibrating. That’s the "human-quality" that listeners are actually looking for in 2026. We’re tired of perfect, AI-generated-sounding pop. We want the crack in the voice.

The Global Impact: Beyond the English Version

It’s easy to forget that this song is a global phenomenon. There are bossa nova versions. There are heavy metal versions—check out Northern Kings if you want to hear four Finnish metal singers turn it into a symphonic epic. There’s even a blue-grass version by Hayseed Dixie that somehow makes the synth-pop hook sound like it was written for a banjo in the Appalachian mountains.

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The fact that the melody translates across genres so seamlessly is a testament to Magne Furuholmen, Morten Harket, and Pål Waaktaar-Savoy’s songwriting. They didn't just write a hit; they wrote a musical blueprint.

Real Insights for Your Next Playlist

If you are putting together a collection of these covers, stop looking for the most popular ones. Look for the ones that understand the "A-ha" paradox. The original song succeeded because it was a perfect marriage of high-tech 80s production and old-school yearning.

  1. The "Sad Girl" Version: Look for artists like Anni B Sweet. These versions emphasize the vulnerability of the lyrics. They turn the song from a dance-floor filler into a "staring out a rainy window" track.
  2. The High-Energy Reimagining: Hidden Citizens does a "cinematic" version that sounds like it belongs in an Avengers movie. It’s massive, orchestral, and slightly dark.
  3. The Pure Nostalgia: Keep the Reel Big Fish version for when you need a boost. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood while listening to it.

People often ask why we don't just listen to the original. The answer is simple: we want to see how the world has changed since 1985. A take on me cover is a time capsule. When a singer in 2026 takes on that melody, they are bringing forty years of musical history with them. They are bringing modern production, modern angst, and modern irony.

The "ghost" of Morten Harket’s 1985 performance still haunts every single one of these recordings. You can’t escape the comparison. Every singer knows that as they approach that final chorus, the listener is waiting. They are waiting to see if the singer will go for it.

Actionable Ways to Experience This Song Today

  • Compare the Keys: Listen to the original A-ha version and then immediately listen to the MTV Unplugged version. Notice how the change in tempo changes the meaning of the words "I'll be gone in a day or two." It goes from a flirtatious promise to a grim reality of aging.
  • Check the Live Scene: Search for live festival covers. Bands like Paramore or CHVRCHES often throw snippets of the riff into their sets. It's a litmus test for a crowd's energy.
  • The Karaoke Challenge: If you’re a singer, try recording yourself. Don't use a backing track; just use a piano. It will teach you more about breath control than almost any other pop song in existence.
  • Production Study: If you’re a producer, try to recreate the "Take On Me" synth hook using only modern VSTs. You'll find it's surprisingly difficult to get that specific "punch" without it sounding thin.

The enduring legacy of the take on me cover isn't about the 80s. It’s about the fact that some melodies are simply too good to stay in their own decade. They demand to be sung, failed at, and eventually, reinvented. There is no "perfect" cover, because the original was already a perfect lightning strike. Everything else is just us trying to catch the sparks.