would you still love me if I was a cryptoworm?
[Video]
[6.89]
Cathal Donovan O’Neill: I can’t help but look at “WannaCry” as a postscript to I Love My Computer, one of the best pop/EDM albums of the year: If that album was a shot across the bow, then this is Ninajirachi taking her next step as a pop producer, working with an inspiration of hers (Porter Robinson’s “Easy” is name-checked on “iPod Touch”). “WannaCry” is a low-stakes celebration of the album that let Nina Wilson tour the world, and while it doesn’t hit the heights of “Fuck My Computer” or “CSIRAC,” it’s still going to have any dance floor where she drops it going apeshit. Robinson acquits himself decently; the high-pitched earworm of a main melody running through the track sounds like it came from his brain. His vocals sound reedy compared to Ninajirachi’s, but there’s cool stuff going on in the mixing: If Ninajirachi’s voice is coming from inside a computer, equal parts virus and prospective pop star, then Robinson floats above it as malware designer and disc jockey, standing at a distance from what they’ve created to watch it run wild. I’d be interested to see Wilson work with more commercial pop producers; my first thought upon listening to “iPod Touch” was “Damn, this sounds like Avicii made it on a really good day.” In the meantime, even if it isn’t an essential listen for Ninajirachi-heads, “WannaCry” still shows plenty of the artist’s talent for glitchy, crunchy hooks that’ll body a dancefloor. I’m excited to hear what comes next.
[7]
James M Errington: It’s been nearly a decade since the WannaCry ransomware attack of 2017, and no other virus since has made it into the public sphere in the same way since, so it’s very much fitting that a song from the perspective of the virus should sound like two different genres that were alive at the time but have both moved on since. The gently tuned vocals (Ninajirachi sounds a lot less abrasive than on last year’s “Fuck My Computer”), and the build-drop structure are very chart EDM, while the distorted synth sounds could come directly from a mid-2010s A. G. Cook remix. It’s an interesting idea, but the sounds compromise with each other instead of pleasantly clashing, and we’re left with something a bit too polite to live up to its potential.
[6]
Al Varela: Funny enough, the first time I heard a Ninajirachi song, Porter Robinson was the first artist who came to mind. Both are electronica-loving nerds with a lot of bursting sincerity, even as they try to ironically deflect to protect their fragile emotions. “WannaCry” is such an easy knockout for both of them, full of bursting melodies and crescendos that make you feel like you’re soaring through a digital skyline. The drop is incredibly fun, Nina and Porter’s vocals go naturally together, and the production is so vivid in its texture that you’re easily transported to another world.
[8]
Nortey Dowuona: Interesting, as Porter has aged, the bright, metallic tears he once wrought from me have softened into android musings of earnestness then into the flesh and blood desire of human blood. As AI has become the all-encompassing word for aging and flailing technological gimmicks still far, far away from doing anything other than dulled representations of human smugness and awkwardness, Ninajirachi has embraced her new computer sister with gusto, showing them their father’s grave, their new kitten and their mom’s wedding photos with their father. Ninajirachi evinces a giddy, reckless joy while Robinson emits a tender, wounded awe at his creations, together they create magic that could have never existed without their mother and father, who split acrimoniously and resent each other’s freedom even long since divorced. But Robinson, keeping with his father’s nature, is comfortable receding from the lights, allowing his more ebullient little sister to take the reins and the spotlight, as she deserves.
[8]
Alfred Soto: Some of the bleeps and blurps sound rote but it’s got a strong hook and the pair’s amiable androgynous chirps are solid complements.
[7]
Jel Bugle: It starts off well, and turns into fairly restrained EDM — nothing really grabs me, the gears don’t change, a bit too smooth. Yacht hyperpop.
[6]
Tim de Reuse: Not that Robinson hasn’t changed at all in the last decade, but his particular band of immaculate, high-detail, plastic-y electro feels increasingly like a relic in the 2020s. I listen to this high-energy bleeping and all I can think is — yeah, he’s really hammering in that melody like he expects me to be going nuts for it, and I guess I am, a little bit. But when you divorce yourself from the adrenaline of the immediate moment and try to listen to it as a song with a beginning, middle, and end, it fuzzes out into a perfectly edgeless EDM object, floating in some pre-COVID festival fantasy.
[4]
Lichelle: “I’ve been everywhere, through every undefended door” are true words from Ninajirachi. Despite the following lyrics, “I did a good job, and now I’m finally out of luck,” I believe Ninajirachi’s tangible passion and talent for her craft will only go up from here. (As long as she doesn’t allow Grimes to clutch and steal her effervescent cool from her — RIP Cobrah.) Ninajirachi and Porter Robinson performing this song together at Coachella has to be a whirlwind sensation for the once-bedroom producer (complimentary and factual). We love a success story, and the girl in me that mourns the now obscure status of Bumblebeez (or Bumblebeez 81, as they were called in the States) is happy to see Australia’s Ninajirachi’s career flourish with the 2025 release of I Love My Computer. Regarding the track, any song that makes me want to dance and jump around like the X-Men girlies in that one GIF is a sonic win. My electronic music motto and mantra have been cemented by Roland Clark’s and HoneyLuv’s “This Is My Life”: This is my life, there’s so much pressure/But with this music, I feel much better. And “WannaCry” exemplifies that for me; it sounds like two people having an extremely good time making music, which is probably the highest compliment I can give any song. Basically, I will support Ninajirachi continuing to kick down every undefended door available to her, whether it’s within the confines of my room or the club.
[8]
Ashton Arbus: Porter Robinson as an artist always reminded me of Thomas Kinkade or Makoto Shinkai: Men whose work exudes an overbearing warmth and sentimentality that mostly serves to hide how little edge anything they make has. He writes songs that imply big emotions but have the force of a pool noodle, unwilling to do much beyond remaking Skrillex’s “With You Friends” over and over again. With “WannaCry”, he drags Ninajirachi down to his level, squandering a nice trance-y build reminiscent of the best of her last album to make more landfill EDM, complete with the same stock complextro breakdown and characterless vocals he loves so much. This is still the same salad, Porter, even if you add some new dressing to it.
[2]
Charlotte Gaze: “I love you, but I’m bad for you, like malware” has got to be the most adorable geek romance that music has seen in a minute. It’s almost too good to be true that two of the hottest EDM stars of the current day happen to have the same autistic fixation on a decade-old cyberattack that I have, and turned it into this heart-pounding three-minute opus. Musically, it’s more of a victory lap than an innovation for either of them, but thematically, it stands unique.
[8]
Claire Davidson: “WannaCry” gets considerable mileage from its central melodic loop, immediately grabbing the listener’s attention with a fuzzed-out 8-bit riff that works in lockstep with a deeper, more combative hyperpop groove. That refrain is criminally addictive in its own right, but where the track really succeeds is in diverting the listener’s attention from it just long enough to make its impact truly pummeling upon return. In this case, that’s accomplished with the help of a genuinely sweet story, as Ninajirachi plays a friend increasingly exasperated by how regularly her loyalty is met with emotional unavailability from Porter Robinson, who is himself apologetic about his overt shortcomings. The two vocalists are perfectly matched in capturing that dynamic, with Ninajirachi’s plainspoken sweetness and Robinson’s flattened malaise believable enough to imbue the song with feeling without ever crossing into tweeness. (No small feat, given that the chorus begins with the line, “I’ve got a charm/I wanna put it on your heart.”) Even the composition honors that basic affection, reworking its abrasive melodic refrain into more palatable fonts with the aid of ethereal keys and reserved guitar lines. Yet all of this is ultimately just a precursor to the return of that synth loop, which comes back all the stronger for the walloping pathos that accompanies it.
[8]
Andrew Karpan: New heights of robo-love and proof that the future was always located in the past; the Pet Shop Boys could never truly have dreamt of “I’m selling your skin out, and I’m giving you up,” though they certainly came dangerously close.
[7]
Ian Mathers: Two intermittently satisfying tastes that happen to be hitting pretty well together!
[7]
Oliver Maier: It doesn’t exactly feel wrong to call this ear candy — the sugary synth riff is the obvious focal point here — but it would perhaps undersell the precision and depth of Nina and Porter’s efforts; I keep discovering new details on each (frequent) relisten. A little sad, a little silly, gold star EDM.
[9]
Will Adams: A dream collab for Nina, a slight retread for Porter. It mostly balances out; both of their vocals are sincere, enveloped by swirling electro vworps and static crackles. The real treat is the hook, with its stratospheric synth sending the song onto its own Audiosurf course.
[6]
Tom Feckerdt: Against all odds, a very one-sided affair. Ninajirachi’s funnier and lighter a personality, more eager to crack a joke than Porter Robinson and definitely likelier to make the joke land. But Robinson’s simply a better melodist, taking from mall-emo and house in one fell swoop. The combination of both talents should be instinctive but, if this song is any indicator, it only makes Ninajirachi put aside her looseness and sense of humor in favor of Robinson’s overbearing doe-eyed sentimentality, which doesn’t get a chance to fully expand given that he’s sharing the stage, and their respective hooks (“I’ve got a charm, I wanna put it on your heart, yeah” vs. “And it’s a message, I know what you are”) put Robinson so far ahead of his younger colleague it’s not particularly fair.
[5]
Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I would trust no one else to make an electrohouse banger from the perspective of a ransomware hack: the trick, of course, is that these two play with technology with utmost seriousness. The concept is outre, but their execution is straight down the middle; there is no flinching away from the topic, no jokey lines or overly obvious references either. Most of all, it’s a brutally effective piece of festival fodder. Bouncing up and down to this ought to feel just as life affirming to the extremely online and offline — the esoteric layers are just a bonus.
[8]
Katherine St. Asaph: A thrilling milestone in the history of songs themed after computer worms. For the next collaborator, might I suggest Bad Bunny?
[8]
Taylor Alatorre: Topic: the personification of computer viruses through anime-girl aesthetics. Four data points: 1) Rensenware. 2) This Lucky Star meme. 3) Upcoming Steam game featuring a “sentient, bratty opponent.” 4) “Imouto Ransomware Manga.” Conclusion: this is a real thing. Implications: none, really, but where else am I gonna get to mention this? Anyway, Ninajirachi has surely contemplated the dangers in latching herself so tightly to an “internet native” persona, in particular the problem of sheer ubiquity: how do you distinguish yourself from the millions of other kids with cracked FL Studio who grew up on the same websites at the same time you did? The first answer, as always, is to straight-up make better music than they do. The second is to treat all your early-life obsessions with more fawning, arms-wide-open sentimentalism than you think they rightly deserve. If you’re gonna romanticize the Wired, you can’t afford to half-ass it; tactile sensation has a massive evolutionary head start. Porter Robinson’s Worlds was a swing for the fences not just in its escape-from-EDM posturing, but primarily in its unrepentant willingness to take MMORPG quest tropes at face value. It makes sense, then, that their collaboration would sound like a joint missive from an earlier micro-generation of internet lore, one with just enough distance to now be transmuted into an alien sort of pathos. “WannaCry” had lain dormant for nearly a decade as a potential song title, waiting to be picked up by the first artists willing to treat it as something other than cheap reference bait. “I wanna cry, I wanna multiply more times” hits the exact right notes; it does the obvious thing with the name while also cracking the door open to a clinical and possibly unknowable dimension of wistfulness. What does it mean to “multiply” here–is it something you or I have done, or are doing, or should even want to do? Is this just a high-concept breakup anthem, or a lament for the bygone days of the massively distributed malware attack, before hackers gave up on public outreach and instead retreated into individualized crypto scams? Nina and Porter invite such questions because their vision of internet nostalgia is not of the closed-universe, “you had to be there” variety, but one which attempts to translate the bedroom laptop experience into something widescreen and approachably universal. So why not personify that virus? It’s the proper human thing to do, after all.
[9]
