Listening to The Virginmarys’ new album this morning for the first time, a thought struck me. In the last decade or so, I’m not sure I’ve seen any band more than this two-piece. Even when they were a three-piece, they were great. They didn’t bother replacing their bass player when he left, and thus became even more primal.
Recent performances have become almost visceral. I spoke to singer Ali Dickaty when I saw them late last year, just after they came offstage. He was dripping with sweat, as if he’d—in football parlance—left it all out there.
As a metaphor for the band, you won’t find a better one. The band matters to Ali and Danny Dolan, the drummer. Every single thing they’ve ever done, they did because they meant it.
And perhaps because they are from Macclesfield and not the bright lights of Manchester, they’ve never quite fit in. They were mistakenly lumped in with the classic rock brigade around the time of their debut (which was produced by Toby Jepson), and they’ve always been proud outsiders. They’ve got a song called “Into Dust,” which is the almost perfect summation of frustration. I say “almost perfect” because there’s one on “The House Beyond The Fires” that is even better.
“There Ain’t No Future” is nothing more and nothing less than a copper-bottomed classic. Nihilistic, scared, paranoid—all of that. But here’s the thing: try to get the thing out of your head. “There ain’t no future, hallefuckinglujah,” spits Dickaty with all the contempt that 2024 deserves.
“….Fires” starts with some trademark Virginmarys. Always a band to lay their mental health struggles bare, “White Knuckle Riding” is a journey through the exhaustion of depression, and anyone who has suffered gets it.
“When The Lights Go Down” might well be a homage to those live shows, and it has the energy that so characterises their stuff.
That’s all over “You’re A Killer” too, which they’ve played live for a while and excoriates the ruling class.
There’s quite a strut about their work these days. “Trippin’ New York City” underlines it, “My Nettle” has a melody and that effortless “big” sound. However, the pieces needs to sound unhinged, and another of the songs they played last year, “Lies, Lies, Lies,” is that, while retaining the spirit they’ve always had.
Their roots have always been important to them, and amidst the cold Northern air, there’s a funk, a kind of dance vibe, as they escape to the “Northwest Coast.” The “chips and beans” here are the equivalent of those “fishing holes” that the country stars love so much in the US.
“Where Are You Now” changes tempo a bit, but only to make the hook hit harder, and the innovation in the riffs and the almost scared way they deliver the words makes “Dance To The City” a highlight (and it contains the words that give the album its title).The fact that they always find a way to push the boundaries is evident all the way through their latest album, “Urban Seagull.” Employing the quiet/loud dynamic, it screams, “Run, run as fast as you can, wake the city to the fact that the future is finished,” and if you’re looking for a happy ending, you won’t find it here.
I would argue that it isn’t about that anyway; this band is rooted in a different place. “Keep that fame and money, all I want is truth,” goes a line on this album. It has echoes of a slogan on the back of a band t-shirt I was wearing the other day: Love, faith, truth, music, it says. It’s a Virginmarys garment.
There’s a parallel universe where these two are an arena rock band. But in the real world, the fact that “House Beyond The Fires” is one of the albums of the year will have to do.
Rating: 9.5/10
REVIEW: THE VIRGINMARYS – THE HOUSE BEYOND THE FIRES (2024)
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