concert review: The Virgins @ GAMH 20 May 2009

Last Wednesday night, The Virgins played Great American Music Hall. I was surprised to find myself enjoying both of the female-fronted openers, called Anya Marina and Lissy Trullie. Anya was earnest, had a pleasant voice, and her happy-go-lucky attitude was exemplified in her irresistible offer: get a free dream analysis from her father when you purchase a CD at the merch table. She showed off her previous experience as a radio DJ to the audience and kept everyone laughing and smiling throughout the set. Lissy Trullie, quite different in demeanour, was more edgy and reserved, in that oh-so-punk manner that was undoubtedly genuine. She reminded me a bit of a more sober female version of Pete Doherty. Her lead guitarist had some great tricks up his sleeve, and although she did not sing her heart out, their set was thoroughly enjoyable.

Now, I’m going to preface this next bit with something which I’m sure all of my readers know: I love The Virgins. I can still remember the countless runs I had down College Ave, and how their rockin’ debut sustained my high heart rate in more ways than one. However, something (or, if I’m going to be completely honest, many things) about their set last week was off. Before the show even started, I managed to snag a few words with their bass player Nick; I asked him where in the world their drummer Erik was. He sort of shrugged and I understood immediately: this was not information that the band was ever going to disclose. “You know, things just didn’t work out,” he said. He assured me that their new guy was just as good, but I had my doubts. From their flat rendition of the opening song of the set (“Teen Lovers”), I knew the night was doomed.

The band managed to be off stage by 10:30, something which baffled me and pissed me off. The complete antithesis of the last great show I had attended at Great American (Black Lips helloooo, as the M&tNS&S’s show was considerably thwarted by the lead singer’s laryngitis), The Virgins had nothing going for them that night.

Their songs were barely recognizable, so much that I only figured out that they played a new song after I took a gander at their set list. Their lead singer Donald was clearly upset about something, their new drummer was NOT as good as Erik, their guitarist Wade didn’t play the right notes, and when he did, he did this weird thing where he sustained them painstakingly. Nick on bass looked sad and unenthused throughout the show (you couldn’t even hear him during his signature bass line in “Rich Girls”), and I think all of this was a result of the undeniable trouble that the band is experiencing. If they’ve had enough problems this early in their career, when they can’t even sell out a GAMH type show, enough to warrant a band member leaving or being kicked out, something is wrong.

It kills me to say it, but the Brooklyn rockers may be on the decline. It is quite possible that the boys were just having an off night, and I sincerely hope so, but my gut tells me that they will never be as good as they were when I saw them for the first time: with the excited frivolity that you can only truly maintain as an unknown opening band with killer hooks and sexy bass parts. Long live The Virgins of yesteryear, also clearly manifest on their beautifully unrefined EP.

2.5/5

set list:


Anya Marina:


Lissy Trullie:





The Virgins: