Show Review: Simple Minds + Soft Cell @ Toyota Amphitheatre, Concord CA, 5/20/25

On a breezy spring night in Concord, the Toyota Amphitheatre filled with time travelers, goths of all generations, synth-pop disciples, and lifelong fans ready to worship at the altar of eyeliner, analog synth, and big, cinematic choruses. The lineup? A dream bill that might’ve once been scribbled in a Trapper Keeper or posted in a record store window: Modern English, Soft Cell, and Simple Minds. For anyone who ever slow-danced in combat boots or found transcendence in a John Hughes soundtrack, this was a pilgrimage.

I missed Modern English due to an unfortunate freeway snarl on the way in. But here’s your essential pro tip for this venue: leave early. Like, really early. Better yet, head to the nearby BART station, park for free, and catch the shuttle, an underrated hack that bypasses the usual concrete hellscape of venue traffic.

Soft Cell took the stage looking like high-fashion Berliners, sleek, theatrical, and as arch as you’d hope. Before they even belted a note, fans were already shouting “Sex Dwarf” like it was a summoning spell. It was a group effort from the die-hards up front, and I would’ve joined the chant from the photo pit if I could’ve. But alas, they didn’t play it. Still, the set was clean, razor sharp, and felt strikingly current. There’s something eternal about the Soft Cell sound: lo-fi glamour, sordid synths, and romantic nihilism. It all lands as quickly as ever.

Formed in 1978 in Leeds, Soft Cell emerged from the art school underground, crashing the synth-pop party with a darker, seedier edge. Marc Almond and David Ball wrote pop songs and built subcultures. Their breakout hit, “Tainted Love,” was a cover, sure, but it rewired the original into a pulsing electro dirge that defined a new sound for outsiders and romantics. Echoing their influence in everything from Nine Inch Nails to The Weeknd.

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The crowd was a rich generational stew: retired goths, 18-to-24-year-old mall goths resurrecting the look with ironic precision, plain-clothed Brits with knowing smiles, and more than a few parents living their best eyeliner-free lives. It was a vibe.

Simple Minds closed the night with a set that felt larger than life. They still have that stadium-shaking energy that made them global icons in the ’80s, but there’s an emotional richness to their presence now that hits even harder. This tour is part of a bigger story — it supports an upcoming feature-length documentary on the band’s history and it promises to dive deep into their political, poetic, and pop cultural legacy, as well as a new live album, a reminder that their catalog runs much deeper than one iconic John Hughes moment.

Of course, they didn’t leave out “Don’t You (Forget About Me),” and when it hit, the entire amphitheater lit up like a school dance dream sequence. But it wasn’t all nostalgia — the setlist was full of deep cuts, rhythmic left turns, and cinematic flourishes. The energy from the crowd? Electric.