The Virgins

Monday, May 11, Bluebird Theater, 303-830-8497.

Behold the twenty-something Virgins.
Behold the twenty-something Virgins.

No surprise that the Virgins, appearing with Anya Marina and Lissy Trullie, have become New York City's latest candidate for musical celebrity. Fashion-wise, leader Donald Cumming and his mates bridge the gap between scruffy and glammy in a manner that's apt to entrance Drew Barrymore, and while the band's self-titled 2008 debut rocks, sort of, it doesn't do so in a way that less committed members of the downtown crowd will consider gauche. As for the songs, Spin says they reflect "the mirror-ball gleam of primo INXS and Emotional Rescue-era Rolling Stones," which is just about right. (Too bad Emotional Rescue was one of the Stones' lamest platters, and a couple tracks of primo INXS is usually plenty.) Still, the Virgins have a few fairly enjoyable tunes — like the bouncy "Hey Hey Girl" — and a sense of style that should hold up until, inevitably, they're replaced at the top of NYC's ticket. Shouldn't be long now.

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