The Virgins
YoYo @ Notting Hill Arts Club, London
15/01/2009

It didn’t take long for 2009 to get its cherry popped, eh? Two weeks into the new year and The Virgins are making the first moves into an affair that’s increasingly looking a lot more than a one night stand; tonight, the trio – bulked up to a five-piece live – are thrilling, every song chopping chunks of relevance out of The Strokes prolonged absence. Indeed, frontman Donald Cumming may be the coolest frontman to visit these shores since Julian Casablancas woke the UK from a Coldplay coma in 2001, but there’s much more going on with The Virgins than Strokes comparisons. First off, whilst it took Julian & co. three albums to sound like they were having this much fun, The Virgins are party-starting naturals. Led by Cummings wiry, scuzzy charm and his drunk Elvis Costello vocals, they power through a 30-minute set of art-pop excellence, unleashing hook after hook; ‘Teen Lovers’ and ‘One Week Of Danger’ are garage-rock gems, their brilliant, dumb simplicity underlining the band’s effortless approach, whilst ‘Rich Girls’ is the sort of eardrum-straddling pop song that Gwen Stefani’d sell her harajuku girls for. By the end, with the trendy-as-fuck Notting Hill brigade in the palm of their hands, they play it cool, disappearing triumphantly into the crowd one-by-one. Tonight is a case of first base conquered, but the UK better pack some protection – The Virgins won’t take no for an answer.

Niall Doherty