1989 07 01 New Order Irvine Meadows NME Review

NEW ORDER 
PUBLIC IMAGE LIMTED 
THE SUGARCUBES
IRVINE MEADOWS AMPHITHEATRE, CALIFORNIA

THE HORRENDOUSLY-TAGGED "Monsters Of Alternative Rock" tour that will wend its way across the Northern US and Canada settled down for two nights in the No Man's Land between Los Angeles and San Diego. Irvine Meadows is a one-road-in, one-road-out kind of place where there's no public transport for the 15,000 punters (this is California - everyone drives), so it takes almost as long to get out of the car park as it does to watch the show.

Just think about it: could three more divinely complementary bands be on tour together? A four-and-a-half hour, three-decade dancefest: PiL's tribal death disco that started twitching in the '70s and won’t keep still; the '80s synthesized sonic swathes of New Order; and The Sugarcubes' perverted pop for the '90s.

The sky was turning orange and pink as The Sugarcubes strolled onstage. Wait a minute - that's two of the colours their LP cover came in. Spooky. Einar and Bjork must communicate transcendentally since she appears to ignore his silliness like a mother ignores a petulant child, but she's completely locked into everything she needs to sing with him.

This band is now so sharp live, it’s almost shocking. They get a lot of stick in the US for their ‘coldness’ (the Yanks have got to get those stupid Icelandic jokes in somewhere). Well, here they were, in the evening sun, about as cold as a chicken vindaloo. The Sugarcubes are peaking right here and now, and it’s exhilarating to be able to see it happening.

The crystal clear sound accentuated the purity of Bjork's voice and helped it cut through the jangling guitars of 'Motorcrash', and Einar's tortured 'Birthday' cornet wail. Even those familiar favourites sounded fresh because The Sugarcubes are just at that stage where they’re not putting a foot wrong. When the highlights of a show are songs you've never heard before, you know the group is doing something right.

Ari Upp’s stepfather came next. It’s strange that even though he's finally got a great band together again, John Lydon still can't stop making fun of himself and acting the clown. It detracts from everything he does. With help from former Magazine and Banshees guitarist John McGeoch, and ex-Slits, PopGroup and Rip, Rig And Panic drummer Bruce Smith, PiL make an almighty noise, but there's not too much inside it.

A lot of PiL’s material is eminently forgettable, apart from those epic singles. ‘Rise’, 'This Is Not A Love Song' and even 'Disappointed' would have taken the roof off the place if it had a roof. But almost everything else was a blur.

It's not that PiL are dull. How could they be? They've got Lydon up there, whirling around in a hideous, oversized yellow suit that glows in the dark (and a weird vest made of enough lovebeads to embrace China). But the prancing and poking fun wore out their welcome early on. It's a waste of a lot of special talents.

McGeoch threw in everything he had; he's an inventive, sparkling guitarist, and Lydon let him show off a bit, a luxury he was never previously afforded because of the fragile egos of his former lead singers. Lydon’s ego is so huge and dominant, nothing can threaten it.

If, as rumoured, Dylan is going to be playing to cabaret audiences in Atlantic City, PiL could end up doing a turn in Las Vegas.

By the time New Order came on, the audience was completely wired. This could have proved unfortunate for them since live the band usually has a wet blanket effect of plodding dullness. Onstage, they seemed incapable of capturing any essence of their massive aural vinyl slabs.

But this was the show where New Order in concert finally made sense. I'd never seen them this good. Or, to be more precise, I'd never heard them this clearly. That same clarity that helped The Sugarcubes did wonders for New Order, and it made all the difference. Give that sound man a medal.

It was a bit like listening to 'Substance' and the best of 'Technique' played on CD through massive speakers. And, for once, the band's performance did justice to the songs: 'Touched By The Hand Of God', 'Ceremony', 'Temptation', ‘Bizarre Love Triangle’, ‘Blue Monday', 'Perfect Kiss', 'Fine Time', ‘Round And Round' - 90 minutes of awesomeness and furious dancing.

This was a dream of a night - two bands in scintillating form with a bit of light relief in the middle. Victory went to The Sugarcubes on points. If they're our hope for the '90s, at least we have something to look forward to. There was no way this show could have lived up to expectations. Except that it did, it did, IT DID!

Jane Garcia