If there’s one thing that can salvage a night gone wrong, it’s a dose of professionalism — and thankfully, Dale Bozzio and her latest incarnation of Missing Persons brought just that to the House of Blues in 2025. Following a disastrous opening set from Bow Wow Wow — easily the worst performance I’ve seen all year out of more than 150 shows — Missing Persons’ 30-minute set felt like an unexpected rescue mission. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t flashy, but it was steady, satisfying, and a reminder that even with just one original member, a band can still deliver the essence of what made them matter in the first place.
Dale Bozzio, ever the eccentric new wave icon, remains a fascinating performer. Now in her 70s, she still looks every bit the part: platinum hair, angular fashion, and that unmistakable vocal tone that made her one of MTV’s first true visual stars. Time has weathered her voice a bit — the sharp, robotic inflection has softened — but what she may lack in pristine vocals she makes up for with pure personality. She’s still weird, still chatty, still charmingly unpredictable.
And on this particular night, she was exactly what the crowd needed.
A Short Set, but a Strong One
Here’s the full setlist from the show:
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Mental Hopscotch
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Noticeable One
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Words
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Here and Now
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Hello, I Love You (The Doors cover)
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Destination Unknown
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Walking in L.A.
It was a brisk half hour, but every song counted. The band came out tight and confident, kicking things off with Mental Hopscotch, the song that put Missing Persons on the L.A. map long before their MTV breakthrough. The opening synths hit like a jolt of cold electricity after the muddy, aimless sound of Bow Wow Wow’s earlier set. Bozzio strutted across the stage in her usual futuristic getup, clearly relishing her time in the spotlight. The rhythm section — all newer members, but well-rehearsed — kept the song moving with crisp precision.
From there, Noticeable One continued the momentum. The band’s signature mix of new wave angularity and pop melody came through loud and clear. The sound mix, which had been borderline unlistenable during Bow Wow Wow, was finally dialed in. Guitars sparkled, synths shimmered, and the drums cut clean through the mix. You could see shoulders start to relax in the audience; people were nodding along, smiling again, maybe even a little relieved.
By the time Words started, the vibe had shifted completely. The crowd was finally engaged. Bozzio, her face painted and her voice doing that unique nasal staccato she’s known for, leaned into the performance like someone who’s been doing it her whole life — and she has. The song’s alien melancholy still hits, decades later. “Do you hear me? Do you care?” she sang, and even with the inevitable rough edges of time, the emotion landed.
Dale the Storyteller
Between songs, Bozzio did her usual rambling monologues. Some were funny, some a little confusing, but all were pure Dale. She talked about L.A. in the early ’80s, about art and love and how “music is still a beautiful thing even when it’s crazy.” At one point, she thanked the crowd for sticking around, clearly aware that the Bow Wow Wow set had left people deflated. “You deserve something better after that,” she said with a wink, half-joking but entirely correct.
The chatter could’ve been a distraction in a longer show, but here it added warmth and personality. Dale has always been a performer who lives in her own strange orbit — half rock star, half art experiment — and that quirkiness still feels authentic. She’s one of those rare artists whose eccentricities don’t feel put on; they’re just part of who she is.
When she launched into Here and Now, one of the band’s lesser-known but underrated songs, she dedicated it “to all the survivors — because that’s what we are.” It was a surprisingly touching moment. Missing Persons may never have reached the commercial heights of some of their early ’80s peers, but their blend of futurist pop and emotional weirdness has aged better than most.
A Surprising Doors Detour
The biggest surprise of the night came in the form of a cover — The Doors’ Hello, I Love You. It’s an odd fit for Missing Persons on paper, but it worked. They stripped away the psychedelic haze and rebuilt it as a nervy, mechanical dance track. Bozzio, clearly having fun, leaned into the detached irony of the lyrics, turning Jim Morrison’s swagger into a kind of robotic flirtation.
The crowd responded with enthusiasm — not wild cheering, but appreciative smiles and applause. After the musical train wreck that had preceded her, this was the first moment of the evening that actually felt like a proper show.
The Big Hits
The set closed with the band’s two biggest hits — Destination Unknown and Walking in L.A. — and this is where everything clicked into focus.
Destination Unknown has always been one of those songs that feels timeless in its melancholy. The synth line still sounds like it’s drifting through space, and Dale’s delivery, even decades later, still carries that mix of alienation and innocence that defined so much of the early ’80s new wave sound. It’s a song about searching, about trying to find meaning in chaos, and at this point in her career, Bozzio gives it a kind of weary grace that only comes with age.
Then came Walking in L.A., the night’s highlight. The band tore into it with genuine energy — the guitars crunchy, the drums sharp, the synths bouncing like neon lights. Bozzio danced and gestured dramatically, clearly feeding off the audience’s energy. When she hit the famous line, “Nobody walks in L.A.,” the whole crowd joined in, shouting it like a communal mantra. It was one of those moments that made you forget the rough patches, the missed notes, or the passing of time. It was pure, joyous nostalgia — the kind that actually earns its place.
The Contrast
Part of what made Missing Persons’ set feel so good was the contrast with what came before. After the Bow Wow Wow debacle — a confusing, off-key mess fronted by a completely different singer — just seeing a veteran performer who cared about the music felt refreshing. Bozzio may not have her original bandmates with her anymore, but she still honors the songs. She still means it.
There was a professionalism in how she carried herself — even with the quirky banter and occasional flubbed note — that spoke volumes. The band behind her was sharp, rehearsed, and clearly respectful of the material. The whole performance felt like a reset button for the night. By the time they left the stage, the audience was smiling again, the mood restored.
Nostalgia That Works
Nostalgia acts can be tricky. Some coast on name recognition, some sound like cover bands of themselves, and some — like this version of Missing Persons — manage to balance memory and authenticity. You could tell Bozzio genuinely enjoys performing these songs, and that enthusiasm makes all the difference.
She’s not pretending to be 25 again, and she’s not trying to reinvent the wheel. Instead, she’s embracing her legacy and giving the audience what they came for — a half hour of genuine, synth-driven, weirdly heartfelt fun.
There’s also something quietly admirable about the fact that she’s still doing it at all. So many of her peers have retired, passed away, or faded into obscurity. Bozzio, meanwhile, keeps hitting the road, bringing the neon dream of early ’80s L.A. back to life for a few songs at a time.
The Legacy Continues
Even without Warren Cuccurullo’s jagged guitar riffs or Terry Bozzio’s thunderous drumming, the spirit of Missing Persons lingers. It’s in those shimmering keyboard lines, the nervous rhythm, and above all, Dale’s voice — still strange, still distinctive, still hers.
When she waved to the crowd and walked offstage, you could feel a genuine warmth in the room. People clapped not just out of politeness but out of respect. They’d seen something real — maybe not a time machine, but a spark of what once was.
Final Thoughts
Missing Persons’ 2025 House of Blues set was short, a little scattered, and far from perfect — but it was good. Solid, entertaining, and undeniably human. After the painful mess of Bow Wow Wow’s earlier set, it felt like a full-on palate cleanser, a reminder that even a single original member can keep the flame alive when it’s done with heart.
Dale Bozzio may ramble, she may drift, but when the music kicks in, she still commands the stage. And in a music world full of auto-tuned gloss and nostalgia acts that phone it in, there’s something refreshing about watching an artist who still feels it.
For a 30-minute set sandwiched between chaos and nostalgia, it hit exactly the right note.
Grade: B+ – A short but satisfying blast of genuine new wave energy, powered by one of the genre’s most eccentric survivors.