Tuseday 05/10/04 The Golden Virgins, The Dead Rebels @ Little Civic, Wolverhampton

Bands are often criticised for wearing their influences too blatantly on their sleeves.  This is not an accusation you could level at tonight’s support The Dead Rebels.  Despite an opening blast of noise that raises false hopes that they might be the Black Country’s own Sonic Youth, they quickly settle into a pattern of proficient mediocrity.  Though there are occasional hints of Foo Fighters and a lingering waft of dadrock, the absence of any real personality, borrowed or otherwise, makes you wish that they’d just go out and buy some Eighties post-punk records to rip-off, like most decent new bands seem to be doing at present.

A lack of identity isn’t something you could level at tonight’s headliners.  Shuffling onstage in matching suits, Sunderland’s The Golden Virgins don’t so much invite comparisons with sartorially-minded rock professionals such as The Hives and Interpol as resemble a troupe of disgruntled school teachers.  Which figures because, though groomed to teach English at university, singer Lucas Renney shunned a life destroying the joys of literature for generations of youngsters in favour of a righteous career in indie.  Dark, emotionally fraught confessionals are the order of the day here; imagine Snow Patrol’s tuneful wimp-rock washed down with a pint of bitterness.  Their sound is choppy and Britpoppy, with resident synth wizard David Younger adding an Elastica-esque sheen to the proceedings, drummer Neil Basset bringing rhythmic precision to the table and bassist Allan Burnup…er, well he’s got a bloody impressive afro.

Renney is a personable frontman with a fine line in between-song banter, no doubt aided by a self-proclaimed love for alcoholic refreshment that would make the folks back home in the North-East proud.  It seems The Golden Virgins love the amber nectar almost as much as wallowing in the murky waters of relationship “issues”.  They combine their twin passions to good effect on 'Staying Sober', in which Renney laments, “there’s not enough drink in this world to drown this kind of sorrow”.  You believe him: the weary looking singer and his portly pals certainly appear to have given this claim some extensive research.

The Jo Wiley-approved single 'Light in her Window' offers a pleasantly insistent melody and new release 'Renaissance Kid' is a rollicking closer.  Its clear though that this isn’t a vintage performance from the Virgins, and Renney frequently complains of difficulties with the onstage sound.  Though the crowd is largely apathetic, a few devoted fans are already in evidence tonight.  The Golden Virgins are the kind of band you suspect that, some day, could attract many more to seek refuge in their twisted lyrics, and English teaching’s loss will prove to be embittered indie rock’s gain.  Despite not firing on all cylinders, the would-be teachers still deliver a lesson in loss that’s a decent way to spend an evening.  I’ll drink to that.