Recently I was lucky enough to see one of my favorite bands, The Virgins, perform at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. The first time I saw them was a few months ago when I went to a show they headlined at Cafe Du Nord (also in SF). When I went to that show, I'd originally gone to see one of the supporting acts, a local band called LoveLikeFire, but ended up falling in love with the sexy, driving bass lines and guitar licks, nonchalant vocals, and brutally blunt lyrics of the bad boy Virgins.
The Virgins hail from New York and played at the nearby All Points West this year. The CW caught some of their performance on video if you’d like to see live festival footage:
The first time I saw The Virgins, I distinctly remember a drunken fan interrupting the performance over and over between songs with, "Play your old stuff! Your new stuff SUCKS!" It got to the point where frontman Donald Cumming, sounding a little under the influence of something himself, told him to leave, then immediately took it back. Having never heard their "old stuff," I considered the "fan" more of a jerk than anything, even though he started prefacing his comments with an "I love you guys, but…" to unsuccessfully ease the blow.
For the next week after their show, I went to their MySpace page every day and listened to their music until I decided that I couldn't live without their CD. (Yes, I still buy CDs.) My only problem was which one I would buy—the EP they were selling through PayPal on their MySpace page or the one put out by Atlantic Records.
Mr. Drunk as a Skunk's words still ringing in my head, I decided to buy both—the EP for myself and the Atlantic version as a birthday gift for someone else. When I received the EP in the mail, I was surprised by the sound coming out of my stereo speakers. What I had heard at the concert was great—an almost grungy pop sound—but what I heard on the EP was greater: completely raw and unpolished perfection. It was their demo. There's something more heartfelt, real, and relatable about what's on their EP compared to what's on their major record album, which had been cleaned up and somewhat commercialized—not that there's anything wrong with that—I love pop music. However, Skunk Man was right—their old stuff is better.
Let me give you an example. One of my favorite songs on the EP is called "One Week of Danger." It's about a girl who falls harder for Cumming than he does her. Basically, Cumming says there's not a woman in the world he wouldn't let go, including this love struck gal. The chorus was brilliantly amusing with him jumping to falsetto to mimic the girl's incessant gushing to her friends about how they "love each other," after he's told her time and time again that he's not interested. After my initial "Oh my God have I ever done that?!" reaction wore off, I thought the song was hilarious and that the chorus made the song. Apparently their record label didn't share that sentiment. They revamped "One Week," adding an entirely different chorus and cutting out my favorite part. It'd been a while since I'd visited their MySpace page so I hadn't realized they'd done this to the new version until I saw The Virgins at the GAMH. Luckily for me (and in the spirit of Drunk Skunk), during a solo the guitarist sneaked in some familiar riffs paying tribute to the gone but not forgotten former chorus' melody.
Just because their newer music is a little different and more commercial sounding than it was on their first release doesn't mean I didn’t enjoy their show. On the contrary, they put on a great show in a great venue. The band got the crowd dancing and Cumming was strutting around on the stage, engaging at least the female portion of the audience. At one point an audience member was having so much fun that she felt the need to yell, "TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS!" But as you can see from the grainy cell phone picture I took, he stayed true to the name of the band and kept them on.
