POiSON GiRL★★FRiEND's Retro Futurism @ Brighton Music Hall on 11/2

Graphic by Sofia Giarrusso

by Christian Jones

I am standing two rows from the barricade and the crowd is packed tight. Indie rock opener Computerwife plays some catchy songs (“Lexapro” and “You Make It Look So Easy”), but leaves me mostly unimpressed. Their awkward and aloof stage presence reminds me of the criticisms older generations lob at Gen-Z. My ears are throbbing from the loud music and I begin to worry. Would POiSON GiRL★★FRiEND still be as good as her ‘90s albums? How would she perform the mostly electronic songs live? I suspend my doubt and choose to hold on to faith.

Sapphire light from a projector screen washes over the crowd when a voice clicks in: “C’est fini mon amour…” The sound of a phone dialing, then going straight to ringing makes the crowd scream. As the slow breakbeat loop of “Fact 2” comes in, nOrikO, POiSON GiRL ★★ FRiEND herself, walks on stage. She is wearing a black and white ‘60s floral-patterned dress, black lace stockings, black leather boot-heels, and a fuzzy black bear hat—pom pom ears and all. The screen behind her changes to black-and-white footage of vague Japanese cityscapes at night: neon-glowing train stations, highway overpasses, shopping malls, amusement parks. nOrikO sways to the beat while the screen behind her lingers on each space in slow motion, as if someone recorded hours of footage on their iPhone, occasionally tilting the camera diagonally. Everyone in the crowd cheers when nOrikO coos wistfully, “Do you love me like you used to do? / I still love you more than everything.” Despite being literally, physically older, she sounds just like the 1992 release of Melting Moment, and she still exudes the same suave aura. The French New Wave background visuals, the style fit for FRUiTS Magazine, the mix of live and trip-hop elements all coalesce into a retro-futurist aesthetic. What was once avant-garde feels now like relics of the past.

Shot on iPhone by Christian Jones

POiSON GiRL★★FRiEND’s set has a simple construction. Flanking nOrikO on either side stands Michiaki Kato on two different electric-acoustic guitars—giving an underlying pulse to the songs—and Ken Miyo (in a knitted rainbow rasta hat) on both a soundboard and an electric guitar for any feedback flourishes. The effect is an intimate animation of the otherwise pre-recorded electronic aspects of the music. That, combined with the stylishly cryptic projections behind them, and Brighton Music Hall’s small size and ambient lighting, gives an added lounge-feel to their trip-hop songs. On 1994’s “Love is…” a dry handheld beat kicks in. Overtop it, echoey strings and short melodic piano staccatos wind in and out of focus until nOrikO’s whispery voice chants “Love is all / Love is here / Love is pain / Love is you / Love is true / Love is labor / Love is wish / Love is lies / All I need, is love.” I look at the people around me in the crowd and their eyes sparkle as they sway side to side, entranced like cobras by a flute charmer. nOrikO crouches into a squat for 2014’s “Light My Fire,” a cover of The Doors’ famous song of the same name. Although, POiSON GiRL★★FRiEND’s version is like a bossa nova lullaby with the occasional rush of extremely-controlled feedback courtesy of Miyo.

Shot on iPhone by Christian Jones

Halfway through the set, nOrikO goes full animatronic mode for 1994’s “Slave to the Computer.” She stiffens her arms and ambulates mechanically across the stage like she is straight out of Styx’s “Mr. Roboto” music video. The crowd is going wild at her performance, and nOrikO is repeating in a tin voice “We love computer / Technology / We are the slaves / To techno.” We are slaves to our technology now—it’s a thought that would normally be depressing if it weren’t for her comically exaggerated delivery. On her next song, her latest single, 2024’s “The October Country,” nOrikO pulls out a copy of Ray Bradbury’s book of the same name that inspired her. She holds it up and pretends to read out of it while singing the lyrics, “Why did you love me? / Why did you leave me? / Why did we even feel…alone tonight?” It is my first time hearing the new song and it proves that the core of her sound is still intact after 30 years since her debut. The lyrics lament lost love, the breakbeat and guitar fuse in an arrangement that feels stylish and vintage, like it could be found in some (milk)crate during the peak of the 1990s Shibuya-Kei music scene.

Shot on iPhone by Christian Jones

POiSON GiRL★★FRiEND’s core set rightfully concludes with her most popular song, 1992’s “Hardly Ever Smile (Without You).” The people standing by me jump up and down in excitement and I hear someone literally shout “This is the best song ever!” As the gorgeous strings swell up, and a golden-orange light bathes me, I can only agree. When nOrikO whispers “I hardly ever smile without you,” and holds her hand out to us, it feels like she means it. After a solid wall of applause, the three of them come back on stage to play 1992’s “Quoi,” a chic, sensual Franglish track—here the background screen changes to Cléo de 5 à 7-esque shots of nOrikO walking through an urban landscape in heels. Then comes 1994’s “Secret Track,” with its glitchy opening, sparse guitar part, and breathy, pleading lyrics. They end the concert with a cover of Elvis’ “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” Despite it not being my favorite song in the world, I am on a high, and the spare instrumental accompaniment to nOrikO’s gentle balladeering is touching.

nOrikO gives the audience a profuse yet demure thanks before insisting on a group selfie. Everyone crowds together, putting up peace signs and cheesing. We walk out with a glow.★