197. A-ha
Royal Albert Hall
9 November 2019
Bonfire Night in London, fireworks light our way to the Royal Albert Hall to see A-ha, those Norwegian demi-gods of melancholic pop, to perform their 1985 debut Hunting High and Low in full, proving that synth-pop perfection, like Nordic skincare, apparently does not cause ageing.
The concept was simple, if not a little indulgent: Hunting High and Low performed in its entirety, in sequence, with a second set of hits and deep cuts to follow. It’s the kind of fan service that risks feeling museum-like, but A-ha are no nostalgia act. They play with the discipline of a band who never quite forgave the world for dismissing them as pretty boys.
They appeared in near-darkness, the opening pulse of “Take On Me” teasingly withheld, replaced by the shimmering heartbreak of “Train of Thought.” Morten Harket, ageless, immaculate, still shaped like a Greek statue, stepped forward into the light, and that voice… still impossibly pure, still capable of levitating chandeliers.
“Hunting High and Low” itself was magnificent, stately, fragile, and heartbreakingly precise. The song hasn’t aged; it’s simply grown wiser. The orchestra swelled behind them, strings cascading like tears, while the band held the centre with that icy Norwegian minimalism.
There’s a peculiar beauty to watching A-ha live in 2019. They’re reserved to the point of opacity: Morten barely speaks, guitarist Paul Waaktaar-Savoy stares into the middle distance as if communing with Odin, and Magne Furuholmen looks like a man who knows the value of understatement. And yet somehow, in their stillness, there’s gravity. They’re not aloof, they’re serene.
By the time “The Sun Always Shines on TV” arrived, the entire hall was a cathedral of outstretched arms and middle-aged joy. The final chorus hit, and even the ushers looked emotional. The second half was looser, warmer, and heavier on the crowd-pleasers. “Crying in the Rain,” “I’ve Been Losing You,” and the shimmering “Stay on These Roads” all landed beautifully. And then, finally, the inevitable: “Take On Me.”
They’ve tried everything with that song over the years: slowed it down, stripped it back, turned it into a ballad. Tonight, they played it straight, and it was glorious. That synth riff shot through the hall like a lightning bolt, and for three and a half minutes, every single person in the Royal Albert Hall was waving, smiling, singing and dancing.
When it ended, the applause went on and on, as if the audience were trying to hold them there, frozen in 1985. A-ha proved they were always more than just pretty boys, they are way smarter than that. They know nostalgia is best served with poise and precision, which, as it happens, is exactly what they gave us.