Virgin Fest: Off to the races…
Melissa Ruggieri
Aug 09, 2008
Greetings from the third annual Virgin Mobile Festival, which, despite its name, is all about music, not cell phones.
This year’s two-day event is already a gazillion times better than last – partially because we whiny press types were moved indoors, to the grandstand of Pimlico Race Course (yay, air conditioning – boo, races being called on a speaker above my head!), but mostly because the weather is quite pleasant. Probably around 82, low humidity, slight breeze – but still sunny. And guess who forgot her sunscreen? Yes, the palest human on the planet.
Anyway, on to the music.

The ladies kicked things off about an hour ago – Cat Power <<
< lefton the north stage, KT Tunstall on the south.
Another difference this year – along with the absence of a blazing heat wave – is that both stages are the same size, so Wilco and Chuck Berry can perform within 15 minutes of each other and the same for tonight’s headliners, Jack Johnson and Foo Fighters.
One digression: Funniest thing I’ve heard so far – two girls, approximate age 16, standing behind me at Cat Power.
Girl one: “My dad says Chuck Berry is, like, amazing and we should see him.”
Girl two: “Isn’t he, like, really, really old?”
Girl one shrugs. ‘I dunno. Will you take my picture?”
And there you have it – tomorrow’s generation of music fan.
So Cat Power launched the day at noon sharp, wordlessly coming to the stage, grinning at the couple of thousand people assembled and delving into her free-form folky soul songs.
Her languid music was an odd choice to open a festival, but her Dusty Springfield-ish voice – a little like a less-gritty Chrissie Hynde – gave enough punch to “Woman Left Lonely,” and her stalking the stage with a corded mic enough of a visual, to be engaging for 20 minutes.
At the other end of the race track, on the south stage, diminutive KT Tunstall sounded strong and husky on her percussive pop songs, including her opening “Hold On.”

Tunstall, unlike the mostly silent/mysterious Cat Power, is a gregarious front woman. Between songs, she related random facts (“Redheads require 20 percent more anesthesia. It’s true! I had it confirmed by a nurse.”) and recounted her show last night at the Borgata in Atlantic City.
“I went gambling for the first time in my life last night.” Pause “It was [bleeping] great! I played blackjack and doubled my money immediately…and then lost all of it. But it was money well spent. Anyway, speaking of gambling, here’s a song about a horse.”
That led, of course, into her breakthrough, “Black Horse and the Cherry Tree,” which she played to a electronic drum beat and looped “whoo-hoo’s,” as she roughly strummed her acoustic guitar. Her band joined her for a final jam of the song, which included a sampled snippet of The White Stripes’ “Seven Nation Army.”
So far, so good.
I’m trying to work up the courage to try the MLB batting cage set up on the infield, but first…off to Duffy.
KT was great, but after that I thought the music really slid. Duffy was like nails on a chalk board. I wanted to punch her in the face after the third song. I was looking forward to Paramore, but they sucked too. Have to cut them some slack for the outdoor setting and the early time slot, but a good, tight band they are not. I liked Swell Season, but not a big arena / outside act. (I thought the snipe at the camera guy was really uncalled for.) Wilco rocked, in an educated way that won me over to their music. Jack Johnson was like a bottle of sleeping pills. What do people see in him? Boring! Black Rebel Motorcycle Gang, a band I didn’t know, was good. A nice find. Bob Dylan’s band was good, and Bob sounded in good tune, but how about at least saying “Hi” to the people paying to see you. I thought the Foo Fighters mailed it in. Offspring was good, but I’m sorry, that lead guitarist gives me the creeps. All in all, a good two days, but I wouldn’t go again if it’s in Baltimore’s Pimlico. (You can put a pig in a dress, but it’s still a pig.)
tom of richmond
Aug. 14, 2008 at 04:29 PM
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