Press

Ace indie rock Mackems sing about love. And Stuff Sunderland foursome The Golden Virgins specialise in documenting the laborious cruelty human beings inflict on each other routinely in the name of love. Nothing groundbreaking there you might think, but it’s the panache with which they do so that proves to be so thrilling. Over 12 glorious tracks The Golden Virgins overhaul the love song format as we know it by giving it generous dose of vitriolic wit. Because not only does “Songs Of Praise” contain some of the most enchanting indie rock melodies heard in an age, but singer Lucas Renney proves himself to be the kind of wry lyricist this intellectually barren pop landscape has been yearning for since Jarvis Cocker discovered his local fancy dress shop and ceased to be concerned with the antics of the common people. The acidic barrage of Renney’s caustic tongue waxes lyrical on sordid affairs of the human heart, while his band craft songs of exquisite pop nous, sounding like arch grumpster Leonard Cohen aligned with the Pixies pop sensibilities – the end result being the kind of ace debut offering that doesn’t come around too often. We should thank our lucky stars for the existence of The Golden Virgins. Praise be, indeed. (8/10)

Lucas Renney, singer, songwriter and guitarist with Sunderland’s Golden Virgins sounds like a man with “issues”, a trail for him, probably, but a joy for anyone encountering his bands debut album. Veering between bottom-of-the-glass melancholy and bottom-of-the-barrel lust, these lush, country flexed songs wrap a steadying arm around him as he sings of love, sex, betrayal and drink. The Violent Femmes twitch of “The Thought of Her” spasms with carnal longing – “So help me God I do confess / I want to die inside her dress” – while “Don't Want No One ” is “The Track Of My Tears” slumped across a Wearside bar. Bile, booze and no little brilliance. (4/5)

Three cheers for the local heroes...In a vibrant few years that has seen the local music scene spew forth some serious contenders, it's fantastic to be able to claim bands such as The Golden Virgins as our own. This album is indeed a stunning debut, regardless of its geography, but it spits witty lyrical twists that could only be accounted for from the grand old North of East. Personal faves for me are the sublime Renaissance Kid, the synth-tastic electropop of I Am A Camera (with the fabulous line 'only you can make my shutter click') and the downright sleaze of Sleep With Me Tonight. However, taken as a whole, this is a dizzyingly good debut indeed. Pop crusaders and proud of it, Lucas, Neil, David and Allan aren't following in the oft-tread garage-band footprints neither are they as angular and shouty-in-a-good-way like their pals The Futureheads. With omnipresent synth vying for attention alongside the spiralling guitars and some achingly good lyrics to boot, The Golden Virgins have indeed struck gold. (Album Of The Month)

Don’t be fooled by the title, these are not religious sermons, nor are they in praise of anything. Rather, love, the only theme, is castigated at every turn, shown all too clearly by the opening line, “Well fuck you love and fair thee well”. There are copious musical treasures here. Produced by Cliff Jones of Gay Dad infamy, Songs Of Praise moves effortlessly from the mournful, elegiac chamber music of ‘Shadows Of Your Love’ to the brilliantly catchy ‘Renaissance Kid’. Best of all is the Cars-esque ‘I Am A Camera’ which opens with a naïve dance beat before exploding into a driving guitar and keyboard riff that will make even the coolest indie kid split his second-hand suit jacket. True such joie de vivre is slightly disingenuous, as The Golden Virgins have made an album steeped in caustic self-loathing, in which love can destroy the human spirit. However it never comes across as self-obsessed or self-consciously melancholic. The listener is left feeling strangely uplifted and that the biggest irony of all. (3/5)

Take them to a party and they’d probably complain that the crisps are stale and the punch isn’t song enough. Nothing is ever quite the way The Golden Virgins would like it to be, and that’s the crux of ‘Songs Of Praise’, heavy with broken relationships and sorrows dunked in swimming pools of spirits. With a love of simple country, and a foot in the fuzz-rock thrift store, singer Lucas Renney bears his soul with remarkable simplicity, and though the Super Furry ‘Renaissance Kid’ and electro-hints of ‘I Am A Camera’ provide a pop diversion, they are utterly smothered by the Virgins’ bitter side in the gentle, piano-led ‘Light In Her Window’ and the old-time country of ‘Shadows Of Your Love’. There’s a perverse cinema to misery, bottle-in-hand, and a resilient sneer – and that’s what The Golden Virgins do best. So let them complain some more. (4.5/5)

Dunno if it's something they're putting in the water up in the North-East at present, but haven't there been some fantastic bands coming from the region of late? If memory serves, we've been introduced to Eastern Lane, Won Mississippi and The Futureheads in recent times and they've all happily enriched our lives on their own inimitable terms. The Golden Virgins, though, are something else again, and possibly the best of this whole bunch. Like The Futureheads, they hail from Sunderland, but instead of wide-eyed angularity, they proffer songs of unbridled sexual tension, acute jealousy, melancholic regret and nasty obsession, usually fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol. Besides, in singer (and ex-English teacher) Lucas Renney, they have a frontman who walks it like he talks it. Few bands are capable of introducing themselves with a press release stating: "if you want to say anything worthwhile you've got to really peel back the scalp and not flinch at the maggots writhing around within", much less proceed to unleash a debut album that does just that. Yet, thanks to Renney's angrily erudite songs of diseased passion, the Golden Virgins have a crucial headstart. And "Songs Of Praise" offers up some startling variations on traditional indie guitar pop. For starters, the first real song here "Shadows Of Love" opens with the damning lyric: "Well fuck you love and fair thee well/ Inside your gold-barred prison cell, your wedding bell's a funeral knell." Ulp. And it's set to acoustic melancholy akin to Jarvis Cocker fronting early Fairport Convention. Like, huh? Wait 'til you catch the sting in its' tail too. Elsewhere, Renney's psychotic intent makes for frightening slices of voyeuristic life such as the drinker's lament "Staying Sober" ( a song of dreams being torched if ever there was) and the lunkheaded riffing of "I Want To Believe You", where he refuses to let go of the crumbling remains of a rotting, deceitful relationship. Arguably even better is "Light In Her Window", where over a trembling beauty of a tune, Renney's jealousy is only barely concealed. "I've got a head full of whisky and gin, I don't know how or where to begin when she lets me in," he threatens before the warped, Neil Young-style guitar solo only ups the tension further. Cripes. Sensibly, The Golden Virgins counterbalance the psychosis with some sublime, Glam-my pop moments, though admittedly these are still usually pretty lascivious. For instance, try on "The Thought Of Her", where the initial Spy theme guitars give way to lairy riffing, Allan Burnup's funked-out, twisted nerve basslines and Renney panting "I wanna die inside her dress." Then there's the previous single (and Peel fave) "Renaissance Kid", which - musically at least - is a joyous, Modern Lovers-style cruise. If anything, though, it's outclassed by the brilliant "I Am A Camera", where Renney delivers the irresistibly sly catchline "Only you can make my shutter click" over the spunked -up, Sparks-y backdrop. Perhaps inevitably after such lusty intent, the band sequence three gentler, wistful tunes at the album's close. "Never Had A Prayer" is a minimal ballad, though it has the menacing kiss-off line "I hope you get yours in the end". "We'll Never Be Friends" sounds like a skiffly sister piece to this and the final "I Don't Want No-One But You" has starlight guitars, an early hours feel and a bitter, if dignified aftertaste. Even when defeated, Renney and the boys remain stylish to the last, it seems. "Songs Of Praise", then, are hymns to deceitful Goddesses who appear to have kneed Lucas Renney in the balls and stolen his wallet more often than allowing him to talk them into bed. Still, all's fair in love and war, and The Golden Virgins are revelling in the chance to report it all from the frontline. (8/10)

The debut album from The Golden Virgins is indeed a surprising offering. I’m not sure what I was expecting from this Sunderland four-piece, but this album reveals itself as a gift to the slightly jaded ear! Charting the ‘confusion and irrationality of obsessive love’ singer and principal songwriter, Lucas Renney, leads us into the dark confines of his heart and mind. We follow willingly, drawn in by his strange poetic lyrics which are at once both witty and disturbing. From the opening track, Shadows of Your Love, with its evocative medieval imagery, to the disturbing darkness of Never Had a Prayer, the listener is treated to a tour of emotional extremes, taking in jealousy, sex, regret and obsession along the way! This depth of feeling may get a little tiring for the casual listener yet we are saved from plunging into depths of melancholia by the sheer joy of catchy pop tunes. I am a Camera is a groovy tribute to Kraftwerk synthesisers and positively oozes retro disco sleaze. A sure choice for a single release would have to be I Want to Believe You where a pounding bass line accompanies Renney’s ironic yet poignant vocals. This is the song The Killers would have written - if they’d been born in Sunderland instead of Las Vegas! The Golden Virgins are truly a strange and beautiful delight, veering between dark intensity and wry humour, via a soundtrack of giddy indie pop fun. This band have turned the love song into an art form of their own, tingeing everything with a sinister yet poetic genius. If you’re looking for something truly different, and remain ever-optimistic that British bands can lead the way, then The Golden Virgins could be your new hope.

Franz Ferdinand are riding high, not since The Smiths’ heyday have erudition and eccentricity held such musical currency. Good news for Lucas Renney and his four-piece from Sunderland. But it would have been better if their debut was more focused. Songs Of Praise evokes This Year’s Model-era Elvis Costello, with I Am A Camera and The Though Of Her sharply witty, lithe pop-punk. But Renney fails to reconcile his impressive ability to pen a pop hook with a folkier side, with the gothic Pogues-ish Shadows Of Your Love, in particular, being a incongruous inclusion. When he does, The Golden Virgins will have the Midas touch. (3/5)

Like the Coral, another mad medley of ideas and influences. The A side is an unhinged anti-love song, full of simple hypnotic melodies, apparently recorded in a single take. "If you want someone to keep you warm throughout the night/don't think of me" they sing. If this isn't dark swamp rock, at least it's garage rock in a flooded basement. It fades out with bizarre steel guitars and what sounds like a Russian chorus! Staying Sober on the B-side is full of melancholy melody, accompanied by simple guitars; again a minimalist gem, reminiscent of the sadly missed Stars of Heaven. The final track From the Garage to the Country sums up their influences, from Sergio Leone, via Nick Cave and Pogue Mahone to the Velvet Underground. Three small and perfectly formed gloomy pop songs - seek them out."