Cruel World Rock, Tuesday's history

Pasadena’s brutal world show sells black parasols is a good thing - they are usually used to get the sun out of grimace. They were well taken advantage of the steady drizzle during Saturday's performance at Rose Bowl in Brookside, which suppressed the first few hours of Goldenvoice's annual event.

"What the hell is this British weather?" asked the orchestra in the dark Andy McCluskey, who carefully did not slide down the rain-damped stage while performing new wave dance moves.

Cool weather is actually preferable to leather, velvet, and other outfits that many viewers like, so this may be a relief, it's still not 100 degrees, just like last week, like last week's Paradise Festival. And it could be worse – at least without lightning, just like when evacuating the venue before Siouxsie plays in 2023.

New Wave and Goth fans (many of whom have been following these behaviors for 40 years), if not specialized, nothing. A music lover said he has been traveling from Georgia and has met with a friend from Oregon. Another couple was plastered on the water of the golf course in their best death rack costume.

Samantha Couvillon and Jeffrey Kohler were hitchhiked in a cruel world. Kirby Gladstein

On the stage commonly known as "Sad Girl", go-go does what it does, besides letting down the area's name, provides a truly cruelty-free area for the sunniest music of the festival. After not doing any show in three years - singer Belinda Carlisle claims the group was completed in the transition period, the initial five-man racer returned together and ended a small trip to a six-season show, which included two weekends of Coachella. (Goldenvoice did not take getting them back together for granted; they were the only band the promoter booked at both 'chella and Cruel World.) Carlile noted that it was 47 years since they started out, and just how fit they were to take things up again nearly a half-century on was exemplifed by Kathy Valentine still being able to rock her vintage gold-lame catsuit for the occasion, as well as a thunderous bass.

At one point, drummer Gina Schock interrupted a game count and asked Carlisle to hand her the microphone, and the singer finally did it. Schock then asked the crowd to show more energy because “I’m working here!” (For her, Go-Go’s had the fastest merchandise sold out early in the afternoon, which wasn’t enough?) When the still-stubborn quintet ended with “Our lips seal,” everything was enough to satisfy everyone’s taste. It's an exciting enough summary for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and it's hard to imagine Carlisle again saying it's time to quit, even if there's no further plans announced. The singer then wrote on her Instagram: “I love you so much to my sisters.

Aimee Mann reunited for the first time since 1992. Kirby Gladstein

Speaking of "'til..." Goldworth occasionally drags on the party of some long-lost bands on Coachella, but this year they keep their reservations about the cruel world until Tuesday cajoling's first reunion since 1992. time. Mann said in a variety show interview before the festival that she felt a little nervous about all the rust and that her own singing ability was as high as it seemed in the 1980s. (“I really regret some choices right now,” she said.) But, apart from a wrong start, she said the band started with a different key, didn’t hear the sound barrier of the party, and that her threat to lowering the key was pulled over, rest assured – rest assured, she was still high and hadn’t “let it down” yet.

Until Tuesday's 45-minute set included the cover's "drive", which was a nod to "Our New Wave Heroes," they shared their hometown of Boston. A few songs at the end of the scene, Mann quips, the next two are unusually dramatic because the drama is what you were after in the 80s. With this statement, you might think she refers to “the voice is carried with you,” but no, “Don’t cry” and “Don’t watch me bleeding” are more dramatic than that.

But when they do make the inevitable ending of their only top ten strikes, they run into the obstacles. Earlier, Mann had asked for time to make sure they weren't late because "we don't want to rotate. Or do we want to rotate?" She added that it sounds like fun - referring to the rotation phase, which allows a group to follow the next one immediately, without a break. Well, she understood her wish or prophecy. At 5:11 pm, they were overtime for a minute, about a minute from finishing "voice carrying", so the stage did start to bring them back to the back, and Mann came to "He said, shut up!" like they hit the tail in the backstage.

This makes the audience hear the climax of any song performed while watching OMD devices all day. Given the amplitude at the moment, maybe the house might stop the band from spinning for another 30 seconds, but they do like to have the train run on time…but at least it deserves praise for not lowering the sound at climax. And, of course, it’s worthy of getting them for the money provided by the party fans, sure they will never get it first.

Other rare appearances were Blancmange, who returned to the U.S. for the first time in 39 years, drawing crowds with people like “living on the ceiling” and “don’t tell me.”

The Buzzcocks' performance fell to the wettest spot of the afternoon, and their voices seemed to be masked by the wet air - or, perhaps, it's been hard to recover since Pete Shelley died in 2018.

In the evening, the drizzle is relaxed, and the creatures at night can get rid of their out of date plastic ponchos. OMD performed well, including "Electricity" (given the wet phase), "Enola Gay" and "If You Leave", McCluskey introduced "eNola Gay" and "If You Leave" from "That Movie" which is for the audience, and it goes without saying that the hit is heard in "Pretty Pink".

Devo half turned into a yellow vinyl jumpsuit in the cruel world. Pat Sapestan

Who knew that Devo's signature red-energy dome plastic hat would be an ideal accessory for rainy days? Ohio pioneers in Akron show they have long left the "novel band" tag that keeps them pike their feet all the time. Just as the old politicians of the New Wave (who have been performing since at least 1973), their musical talents and acting skills made them the top tier of behavior that broke into the scene in the 1970s and destroyed the dinosaurs that destroyed the stadium rocks. With dynamic videos, changes in clothing and irrepressible energy, Mark Motherbaugh and Company yelled “We’re Devo” as they threw their hats into the crowd.

Nick Cave, with black and white expectations on the huge video screen, is a force of nature that sounds like Bowie in his first emotional song, “Frog.” He growled "Tupelo" and other favorite seeds, including the big and small violin of bearded Warren Ellis, and the overall effect reaches the final song, 2018's "Hollywood." Although it was written during the Woolsey Fire in Malibu, the 14-minute long dirge includes the flames of Malibu and the Cougar roaming the hills after the recent fires. "Everyone is losing one...I'm just waiting for my time to come." The cave sang, and while he was undeniably eye-catching, everything was very, very dark.

After some disappointing buzz, the stubborn Anglos are looking forward to new orders for the headlines, but the sound is mean, and Bernard Sumner's vocals seem to have not cooked, especially on the joyful partition songs "Separation" and "Transmission." Despite having several original members, including capable keyboardist Gillian Gilbert, the flashy strobe lights and lasers aren't enough to limit the entire night with the fist provided by past headlines. Come on, it's time to bury the axe with Peter Hook and reintegrate the gang again - maybe in next year's cruel world?