It is Friday morning. You’re bleary-eyed, clutching a coffee, and scrolling through your phone when a video thumbnail stops you dead. It’s a rapper you’ve never heard of covering a 90s alt-rock anthem, or maybe a polished pop star stripping back a heavy metal track until it sounds like a lullaby. This is the triple j Like A Version effect. It has been running for over twenty years now, and honestly, it shouldn't work as well as it does. The premise is dead simple: an artist comes into the studio, plays one original song, and then performs a cover of someone else’s track. That’s it. But in a world where music content is increasingly bite-sized and disposable, these sessions have become a sacred ritual for Australian music fans and a global juggernaut on YouTube.
The unexpected magic of the triple j Like A Version formula
Why does it work? Because it’s high-stakes. You can tell when an artist is terrified. Most of these musicians are stepping out of their comfort zone, often playing instruments they don’t usually touch or singing in a register that feels completely foreign. It’s the vulnerability that gets you. When Halsey covered Kate Bush’s "Running Up That Hill" years before Stranger Things made it a chart-topper again, you could hear the grit in the vocal. It wasn't perfect. It was human.
The segment actually started back in 2004. Back then, it was just a segment on the breakfast show hosted by Jay and the Doctor. It wasn't the cinematic, multi-camera production it is now. It was scrappy. It was loud. It was often recorded in a cramped booth where the drummer was basically sitting on the lead singer’s lap. But the core appeal hasn't changed a bit. We want to see if our favorite artists have good taste, and more importantly, if they can actually play. There’s no Auto-Tune safety net here.
When covers go viral for the wrong (and right) reasons
Not every triple j Like A Version is a masterpiece. Let's be real. Some are forgettable. Others are downright weird. But the ones that land? They change careers. Take DMA’S covering Cher’s "Believe." Before that session, they were mostly known as Britpop revivalists from Sydney. After that acoustic, yearning rendition of a dance floor classic? They became household names. It showed a depth that people hadn't seen yet.
Then there are the ones that spark heated debates in the comments section for years. PNAU’s chaotic, psychedelic take on Tame Impala or Arctic Monkeys doing Tame Impala (Kevin Parker is a very popular target, clearly). These sessions aren't just about sounding "good." They’re about reinterpretation. If a band just plays the song exactly like the original, people get bored. We want the "Like A Version" to be a total reimagining. We want the genre flip.
The technical side of the ABC studios
People often underestimate the sheer technical nightmare of putting these shows together. The engineers at the ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) are the unsung heroes. They have to set up a full band—sometimes with brass sections, string quartets, or triple synth setups—in a space that is fundamentally a radio studio, not a concert hall.
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And they have to do it fast.
The turn-around is insane. The band usually soundchecks in the early hours of the morning while the breakfast hosts are literally on air in the next room. It’s high-pressure. If a cable snaps or a pedal board dies, you’re doing it live to the nation. This pressure is exactly why the performances feel so electric. There’s no "we’ll fix it in post." What you hear on your car radio at 8:00 AM is the raw deal.
The "Hottest 100" connection
You can't talk about triple j Like A Version without mentioning the Hottest 100. For a long time, covers weren't eligible for the main countdown. Then, the rules shifted. Suddenly, we saw The Wiggles—yes, the children’s entertainers—taking out the #1 spot in 2021 with their cover of Tame Impala’s "Elephant."
It was a cultural reset.
Some purists hated it. They thought it took away from original Australian songwriting. But you can't deny the impact. That one video rack up millions of views and introduced a whole new generation to the concept of the segment. It proved that the "Like A Version" brand was bigger than just "indie music." It’s pop culture.
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How artists choose "The One"
The selection process is shrouded in a bit of mystery, but mostly it’s down to the artists. Some spend months agonizing over the choice. They want something that shows off their range but also pays homage to their influences. Others pick a song the night before because they heard it in a pub and thought, "Yeah, why not?"
- The Nostalgia Play: Covering a song everyone grew up with (think Ocean Alley doing "Baby Come Back").
- The Curveball: A heavy band covering a delicate pop song (like Polaris doing "Black Fingernails, Red Wine").
- The Tribute: Honoring a legend who recently passed (like the many tributes to David Bowie or Prince).
Basically, the best covers are the ones where the artist sounds like they're having the time of their lives, or they're about to have a nervous breakdown. Both make for great radio.
The shift to YouTube and the global stage
In the early 2010s, everything changed. triple j started filming the sessions properly. Suddenly, it wasn't just an Australian thing. Music blogs in the US and the UK started picking up the clips. Childish Gambino’s soulful cover of Tamia’s "So Into You" didn't just stay in Australia—it went global. It became a calling card for the station.
Now, international superstars make a point of stopping by the Ultimo studios when they’re on tour. Lorde, Post Malone, YUNGBLUD, Billie Eilish—they’ve all done it. It’s a rite of passage. If you're touring Australia and you don't do a triple j Like A Version, did the tour even happen? Probably not.
Acknowledging the critics
Of course, not everyone is a fan. Some argue that the segment has become too polished. They miss the days when it sounded "shitty" and real. There’s also the critique that the "ironic cover" (a cool band covering a "guilty pleasure" pop song) has become a bit of a cliché. It’s a valid point. When you’ve had hundreds of versions, some tropes are bound to repeat.
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But even with the fatigue, the quality remains surprisingly high. The curation is still tight. The station knows that one bad month of covers can lose them the "cool" factor they’ve spent decades building. They take it seriously. Very seriously.
Why it still matters in 2026
We live in an era of AI-generated music and perfectly polished TikTok clips. triple j Like A Version is the antithesis of that. It’s a group of people in a room, playing instruments, sweating under studio lights, and trying not to mess up the lyrics to a song they didn't write. It’s authentic.
It also serves as a massive archive of musical history. You can go back and see what the "sound" of 2012 was by looking at what songs were being covered. It’s a time capsule. It captures the zeitgeist better than any Spotify playlist ever could.
Practical takeaways for the casual listener
If you’re new to this world, don't just stick to the "Most Viewed" list. Sure, the Wiggles and Halsey are great, but the real gems are often buried. Look for the sessions where the artist looks genuinely surprised by how well it’s going.
- Check out the "Originals" too. People often skip the first half of the video, but the original songs are usually top-tier. It's how you find your new favorite band.
- Follow the producers. If you like the sound of a particular session, look up who engineered it. The ABC staff are wizards.
- Listen for the mistakes. The little cracks in the voice or the slightly out-of-tune guitar string are what make these recordings better than the studio versions.
- Dig into the archives. There are 20 years of these. Go back to 2005. It’s a trip.
The legacy of the segment is simple: it reminds us why we love music in the first place. It’s about the song, the performance, and that weird, unexplainable spark that happens when the two meet. Whether it’s a solo folk singer with an acoustic guitar or a 10-piece funk band, the mission is the same. Just play the song. Make it yours. Don't mess it up.
To get the most out of your listening experience, start by creating a playlist of the "Genre-Busters"—the sessions where the artist completely flipped the script. Compare the triple j Like A Version to the original track side-by-side. You'll start to hear the production choices, the vocal nuances, and the creative risks that make this segment the gold standard for live music broadcasting. Keep an eye on the Friday morning uploads; the next cultural moment is usually only seven days away.