Ninajirachi turns The Granada into a glitchpop Australia for the terminally online
Ninajirachi at The Granada, Jan. 30 // Photo by Kylie Volavongsa
Ninajirachi
with 2charm
The Granada
Friday, January 30
Ninajirachi is one of those rare acts that can come to Kansas and beg the audience an age-old question: to sing along in a foreign accent, or no?
The Australian EDM artist—government name Nina Wilson—made her Lawrence debut last Friday with a sold-out show at The Granada, relocated from what would also have been a sellout at the Bottleneck.
Wilson is fresh out of a breakout summer thanks to her studio album debut, I Love My Computer. It’s a project that combines elements of glitchpop, dubstep, and nostalgia for people who grew up terminally online. And no ILMC song embodies that, or the Australia of it all, like “Fuck My Computer.”
“Sing if you know the words,” Wilson says during the set. After months of hearing them from my own speakers, I believe they best go: “I wanna fuck… my computah, ‘cause no one in the wurld knows me bettah.”
The crowd’s interpretations varied. Before Wilson went onstage, too, some had rallied with an exotic sports chant: “Aussie Aussie Aussie! Oi oi oi!” Not everyone caught on.
Cultural differences aside, the show was cheeky, erratic, and abrasive in all the right ways.
It began with an unoccupied deck and cave-y, electronic ambient. Think family computer room, mid- to early 2000s, and the desktop PC sitting in the dark. Press the power button, and—much like the stage’s visualizer—the starting commands scroll along the screen, and take us to the intro to “London Song.”
The screen and an automated voice revise the lyrics and declare, “I’ve never been to London Lawrence, Kansas.”
And there Wilson was, jumping and spinning in what reminded me of a whimsical one-legged jig.
Ninajirachi performs “iPod Touch” // Photo by Kylie Volavongsa
Throughout the night, the visuals behind Wilson projected an adolescent deep dive online: rapid fire flashes between Discord screenshots, stars swirling like cursors, anime girls, and eyebrow-raising references to Neon Genesis Evangelion and My Little Pony.
If that wasn’t enough, Wilson shifted the laid back, afro house-inspired “Somebody Pay Nina” into an uptempo remix that leaned on a heavier drop and grittier bass line. It carried the energy well into the glitchy pulse of “CSIRAC” and “girl EDM”—“Make some noise if you’re a girl,” calls Wilson (never, in this society, was I happier to be one).
By that point, a jumping crowd of furry knee-high boots and winter coat-wrapped waists had drenched the air into a sweaty soup. From this, Wilson wasn’t spared either, and took multiple turns between raising hand hearts and cat paws to towel off. She gave everyone a bit of a break, though, with an easy 2-step in “Things I Never Nu.”
Not long after, “Fuck My Computer” threw us back in the heat.
For a title that’s grown so familiar to fans—and to essentially be the tour’s titular song—Wilson’s interjections for the crowd to jump and sing louder were a bit jarring, especially in the moments you’d expect the punctuation of a drum hit before a drop. Thankfully, the Frost Children remix that immediately followed offered a close-enough redemption for what was missed.
Microphone issues during “Battery Death” kept Wilson quiet. I don’t think it made a huge difference. The bulk of what she had to say for the night went along the lines of “jump,” “if you know it, can you sing it,” and “I never thought I’d be playing a sold-out show in Lawrence, Kansas!” With the lyrics already playing on the track, she moved into thirst-trap confessional “Delete” just fine.
Though Wilson eventually got a functioning mic, audience participation took center stage for the rest of the night. A man was banished near the barricade for crowdsurfing during “All I Am,” but those around me “yeah-eee-yeah’d” unfazed. “iPod Touch” ended things off with what the guy next to me called a “relatively tame pit.”
Still, it was wonderfully sentimental point of the show. Relating to an album about the disembodied, sometimes lonely connections you make to the internet at a young age is one thing; it’s another to magnify it all under strobe lights, music hall speakers, and a mob of warm bodies that perhaps feel the same way.
It didn’t take long for Wilson to return to the stage for the not-encore. She claims that there isn’t one planned for the tour, but she’s been treating recent crowds to unreleased work.
The first few seconds of “Berghain” by Rosalia always make me feel like I’m getting killed; this is not a bad thing. Now without giving too much away, imagine my shock when it gets the Ninajirachi special: the addition of a glitchy, chirping synth and a tense, groaning bass that builds up into a rapid fire drop. Oh, and the Yves Tumor line (“I’ll fuck you ’till you love me”) isn’t so creepy anymore.
2charm performing “Invisible Wings” // Photo by Kylie Volavongsa
2charm
Don’t be intimidated by their self-description of “indie sleaze g00ner pop.” And don’t let the Sweat Tour pastiche of Troye Sivan tank tops and a brat-like stage background turn you off too early.
Wilson’s countrymen, government names unknown, only have three released songs to their name. But, they made the most of their time with a highly choreographed set. It’s a mix between standstill TikTok arm waving—made wryly stoic, sometimes facing away from the crowd—and a slutty 80s workout tape, complete with mountain climbers and pushups. It’s all set to a score smoother, house-ier, and a bit more minimal than what was to come from Wilson.
With every song, the duo stripped until there was nothing left but tiny pairs of “footy shorts,” Ugg boots, and two halves of a crowd that was either totally confused or totally into it. They earned a quiet Instagram follow from me.
At the end of the night, the Granada emptied while Mass Street filled with clouds of bodily steam. I stepped out in a haze, and thanked god for giving Australian people internet.
2charm’s stripped down performance // Photo by Kylie Volavongsa
