Live Review: New Order @ Sydney Opera House Forecourt

The Sydney Opera House Forecourt is a venue that carries its own weight in atmosphere, but on this sweltering March evening, under the full moon’s elemental grip, it took on an added charge.

The cloying heat didn’t deter the faithful, the ones who had been here before, back when New Order were at the forefront of synth-driven dance music and pioneers of the Madchester scene. Tonight, those same ravers were here again, but now accompanied by their adult children, moving in a subdued yet sweaty revelry. The nostalgia in the air was thick—part joyous, part wistful.

DJ TinTin and Juno Mamba set the stage early, offering an electronic warm-up that, while solid, was really just a prelude. The atmosphere had a carnivalesque quality—people danced in the drink queues, gabbing in the merch lines, the social hum never fully fading even as the main event began. 

The real magic started as the first strains of Transmission rang out. Covers of their former band (Joy Division’s) songs were signatures of the night, reminding us that in many ways they were one and the same with the very palpable absence of their enigmatic frontman. Bernard Sumner may never have had a particularly strong voice, but that has never been the point—New Order’s sound has always been about the alchemy between voice, guitar, synths, and basslines.

The band launched straight into Crystal and Ceremony with a tightness that belied their years. The crowd responded in kind, moving as one beneath the open sky, the forgiving wind marching in from out past the heads offering brief respite from the humidity.

Sumner would periodically clap his hands above his head, and at times, smatterings of fans would clap along, though never in full synchronisation. The visuals were immersive, with an evocative splicing of found footage and New Order-specific iconography, as well as a slow zoom into the dark, broody, and the electric eyes of former frontman Ian Curtis.

Age Of Consent followed, its driving bassline as insistent as ever, drawing cheers from the audience. Love Less was a more introspective moment, its plaintive melody weaving through the humid night air. Your Silent Face was stunning; its melancholic synth washes rolling out over the crowd like a tide.

State Of The Nation followed, its pulsing energy a reminder of the band's politically charged moments. “We didn't play this for a long time but it feels appropriate to play it again,” Sumner remarked, a nod to shifting times and the track’s renewed relevance.

Be A Rebel and Sub-Culture kept the momentum going, the latter’s jagged rhythms cutting through the night. Vanishing Point and Plastic were met with approving nods, their layered synths and pulsing beats showing New Order’s enduring ability to craft propulsive electronic music.

Then came the towering trifecta: Bizarre Love Triangle, True Faith, and Temptation. Bizarre Love Triangle was an undeniable high point. Still one of the most perfect dance songs ever written, its chiming melody lifted the audience into a kind of ecstatic union.

The disco ball—part nostalgic relic, part stagecraft—cast its flecks of light everywhere, a shimmering constellation of movement and memory. True Faith soared, its anthemic chorus met with rapturous voices from the crowd. Temptation brought the set to a euphoric close, with the latter inspiring a full-throated singalong to its defining line: “Oh, you've got green eyes / Oh, you've got blue eyes / Oh, you've got grey eyes.”

Then came the silence. Not the charged silence of uncertainty, but the kind of knowing quiet where everyone expects what comes next. No one shuffled away. No one even feigned departure. The encore was inevitable.

Atmosphere was a gut punch, its sombre chords drifting into the night, a stark contrast to what followed. Love Will Tear Us Apart was, as always, devastating in its familiarity. There is no fresh way to describe it, no reinvention left for a song that has transcended context to become something larger than itself. A cliché, but a beautiful one. The crowd swayed, the full moon above and the Opera House behind framing the moment with a kind of quiet reverence.

Far from the clubs where this music was first embraced, this was still a night of connection, a reminder of what these songs can do. The Opera House stood behind them, immovable, grand. But out here, on the Forecourt, under the watchful gaze of the moon, New Order delivered a performance that may not have been its finest ever but still resonated with so many.