By Nina Ricci
“No one should have to introduce Joe Virga, for he is unmissable by sight, and
unmistakable by sound. His songs are like stained glass masterpieces — they depict a story
and they speak for themselves.
Joe Virga dons a doo rag and tunic. As he emotes during his song, his eyes turn into
half-moons, and he lifts his head skyward, letting out his voice soaring like an eagle uncaged,
breaking through the sound barriers. Across his breast is his instrument of war and peace from
his arsenal of guitars, which he carefully selects each time he performs. For Joe, performing is
not just about being seen and heard for its sake, it’s about legacy.
Joe Virga grew up in Brooklyn, New York on the outskirts of an Italian community. He is
the son of a Scicillian cutter in the garment industry. In early childhood, Joe was aware of his gift
for singing, as were those around him, who put onstage at the age of 6. His uncle’s Tony
Bennett-like singing voice was an inspiration to him, and is perhaps a factor in the creation of
his strident crooning style. While still small, Joe wrote songs in his head and sang them to
himself, but it wasn’t until he was 20 years old, serving in the U.S. Navy, that he was able to
begin putting his melodic ideas to music. He bought an inexpensive nylon string guitar and
practiced playing it in a fan room with echoing acoustics.
Joe has developed an entrancing fingerstyle method of playing over the years that has served
him well as he pursued his search for undiscovered melodies. He doesn’t let his ear for
harmony become mundane through tracing the much-used chord structures, but rather, he
seeks out interesting progressions and uncommon resolutions that are meant to enthrall and
support his ideals for the song he is creating.
Joe’s philosophy is to never write the same song twice. He is a man of melody, and melody is
his mainstay. As Michael Angelo described his own process of sculpting, he said that the
sculpture was complete before he started, he just had to chisel away the unnecessary material,
Joe says:
“The melody I create is the stone. I release the figure from the stone. The more melody I
have, the less lyrics are needed, as melody carries the feeling of the meaning of what is being
sung. A perfect marriage of lyric and melody doesn't have to over-explain itself.”
Joe didn’t always think of himself as a songwriter. He has an exalted view of the occupational
office of “Songwriter,” believing that one must earn the respect and deserve the title. In 1973, he
felt that he had been beknighted with that honored title when he performed an original song at
Gerde’s Folk City’s hootenanny and he heard the audience applaud for him. There are “mercy
claps,” and then there is the the sound of true acknowledgement and honor, and a performer
knows the difference. That night, Joe knew he was a Songwriter.
One of Joe’s highlights in his life as a songwriter was hearing his song “My Father’s America”
playing on radio for the first time by Vin Scelsa on his radio show “Folk Music Magazine” in
1985. Joe’s songs often center on social and humanitarian issues. He genuinely cares about the
well-being and the feelings of others. His Brooklyn-made accent and forthrightness are external
features; he is very tender-hearted and compassionate, and that’s where he writes and sings
from... his heart. His songs shine a light on those who are invisible and those who have been
relegated to the outskirts of society. He has in recent years turned his songwriting powers
toward American folklife. He is creating songs that are monuments to American treasures and
traditions that are passing away as the world modernizes. One of his recent songs is a
stand-out called “Big Top,” which pictures the downturn of the popularity of the circus in
real-time as a circus breaks down it’s tents on its final night.
While Joe may feel that his talent has been overlooked in the professional sphere, he believes
his contribution to the arts is his legitimate legacy. His songs are, in a sense, “up for adoption.”
He needs to perform them so that other artists might hear them and feel that a song of his was
meant to be sung by them, and his wish is that the artists will interpret his songs in their own
way.
Joe is an American treasure. His voice is gusty and unrelenting, and his presence demands
attention. You are held captivated by his guitar work, tethered by the voice of his song, and
enriched by his stories. Much like the undiscovered melodies he seeks, others discover him and
are better for what they have heard.”