TONN OPEN FORUM: ORCHESTRAL MANOEUVRES IN THE DARK
OMD In rehearsal 6th November 1981. Image courtesy of Trinity / Mirror Mirrorpix / Alamy Stock Photo ©
On TONN Recordings we are passionate about electronic music, not just the music itself but also the formative experiences and discoveries that established its origins.
In our new TONN Open Forum we have invited contributions from TONN’s audience and fellow artists, to tell us about the tracks that mean something to them and the personal associations that they inspire. Our 1st Open Forum focuses on the music of OMD.
1
OMD
‘Stanlow’
I cannot listen to ‘Stanlow’, an ode to the Stanlow oil refinery in Ellesmere Port, without being transported back through time to an icy-cold dawn upon the deck of a cross-channel ferry in 1981. At eighteen, I was making my first trip overseas. I had boarded the ferry at Hull for the eleven-and-a-half-hour overnight voyage to Rotterdam with a rucksack stuffed with a few clothes, a copy of J. G. Ballard’s Crash, which I still haven’t finished, my Walkman and a stash of cassette tapes filled with glam rock, punk, new wave and electronic music. The crossing was stormy. I clung to the handrail on the highest deck as the ferry roller-coasted a roaring sea, invisible in the pitch-black night. Sleep was impossible on the hard bunk of the coffin-like cabin. I passed the night alternating between futile efforts to sleep, even more futile efforts to read Crash, and endlessly counting the rivets on the badly-painted metal ceiling. Wearily pulling on my clothes, I hooked on my headphones and found my way out of the bowels of the ferry. In a moment of unearthly synchronicity, I emerged onto the empty deck as the rhythmic mechanical opening of ‘Stanlow’, recorded at the refinery, began. Shrouded in an eerie fog, the ferry was gliding through an alien landscape. Disembodied lights winked in the distance while blasts of flame sporadically spewed from unseen industrial complexes. A frigid breeze stirred the fog, revealing tantalising glimpses of metal towers and networks of pipes, ethereally soundtracked by the mournful strains of ‘Stanlow’. As the final mechanical throbs of the song faded, their refrain was taken up by the pounding of machines on the shore, which gradually faded into the distance as the ferry emerged from the fog into a bright sunny morning.
Andi Brooks / AirStripOne
2
OMD
‘Messages’
I adore this track - I must have been 7 or 8 when it was on the radio in Liverpool. Whenever it came on I would be transfixed, and it was played a lot - they were a local band. Soon after, we were compelled to move to the South East of England through economic necessity - this was when Thatcherite policies were biting their hardest - and Liverpool was (notoriously) amongst those cities hardest hit. Having been uprooted, lost regular contact with our roots and our friends, and initially feeling somewhat isolated (and occasionally targeted at school due to my outsider's accent), whenever this track would come on, or whenever I would play it, it would literally feel like a message from home. A link back to time and place. That still resonates to this day.
This Is The Bridge
3
OMD
‘Enola Gay’
My passion for O.M.D dates back to when I was 13, when I listened to my friends' music (POLICE, MADNESS…). Then I discovered O.M.D through ‘Enola Gay’. I bought the record and then their 1st LP. I have a passion for this group that will never leave me. From their beginning, one aspect that attracted me was their musical aesthetic, cover designs and look (trousers with clip shirt tie). In college it worked! It is through them that my passion for new wave pierced me! Then followed ‘Architecture and Morality’, which confirmed my taste for synthetic sounds, which are more than a revelation. And ‘Dazzle Ships’, my favourite so far! This album is just a pearl, synthetic sounds, sound effects, samples... O.M.D has given meaning to my adolescence! I always listen very carefully to their discography.
Christophe Jousselin
4
OMD
‘Genetic Engineering’
I first encountered Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark in my early teens, by way of their eponymous first album in 1980. I immediately fell in love with their electronic sound, a combination of Andy McCluskey’s distinctive melancholic vocal, which glided over their poignant melodies and sharp minimal beat. I was educated in this then, new synth sound by the near perfect minimalism of ‘Messages’ and ‘Electricity’, both driven by an energy hard to resist. But by the time that ‘Dazzle Ships’ came out, the tide was turning for OMD. In a pre-internet age when music was either endorsed of dismissed by word of mouth and music press, a poor review from critics could damn a release before it even had the chance to hit the charts. So in 1983, when ‘Dazzle Ships’ was being universally slated in nearly every music journal I came across, I had mixed expectations when I bought the record that Spring. When I got the 12 inch home and side A started up with ‘Radio Prague’, I could understand the comparisons the critics had made with Kraftwerk’s track ‘News’ and their use of found recordings from radio broadcasts. But when ‘Genetic Engineering’ hit the 30 second mark, OMD let fly with the most raucous electronic sound I had ever encountered. I was stunned. I still to this day think it’s one of the most exhilarating pieces of music I have ever heard. A cacophony of joyous, raw, synthetic sound.
Mary McIntyre
5
OMD
‘Her Body in My Soul’
I was 13 when ‘Enola Gay’ took the airwaves by storm. Its music style was setting a marking point for me. From my French provincial base, you could not escape its contagious and engaging repetitive rhythm. It was played everywhere from parents Saturday night parties to our teeny-boppers birthday parties in garages! It remains a timeless reference of that period paving the way to more electronic New-wave classics that have defined the sound of the early 80s, sounds which have forged my musical taste and never let off since. The second track, ‘Her Body in My Soul’ is Locomotion’s flip side, from 1984. At this point I was given the opportunity of running a weekly 3 hour evening programme on a local radio station and this is the OMD track I so often played. This title was an instant hit to my ears despite the fact I bought the single for its A-side. It had the perfect blend of ingredients, cold repetitive but upbeat electronic melody, great singing style and it just sounded less mainstream, a sure combo that never failed to gain my attention and favour. It was so reminiscent of the musical style of ‘Enola Gay’, which worked so well. A much underrated track that would befit any All-Waves dancefloor playlist, no doubt.
F[A]p Audio for Résonance magnétique
6
OMD
‘Dancing’
In my Grandparent’s bungalow in the North of England in 1980, watching Saturday morning television, Cliff Richard was giving it his all. My Grandmother looked at the T.V. and asked, "Do you like this music?" I emphatically replied, "God No!’. Two weeks later, in my Grandparents front room again, I’d just been to the town and was eagerly taking my latest purchase out of its bag - Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark's eponymous first album, with its blue and orange cut out Peter Saville sleeve. It was conceptually exciting, but deep down my sixteen year old self was slightly disappointed that there wasn’t a cool picture on the front cover. Still, I was eager to get home and give it a listen. Back then I was keen to discover anything new and electronic, since seeing Gary Numan, or Tubeway Army as he still was then, performing ‘Are Friends Electric’ on Top of the Pops. Suddenly, here was someone who understood my teenage alienation, it was me and Gary against the world. I had read in the music press that OMD were supporting the whey faced one on his tour. I had also seen them, Andy, Paul and a reel to reel tape machine, apparently called 'Winston', on The Old Grey Whistle Test, performing a bizarre track called Dancing, all detuned synths and awkward moves. Although I was a little bemused, I thought they must be worth further Investigation? They had skinny ties, short hair and most importantly, lot’s synthesisers on fancy stands. Sitting on my Grandparent’s sofa, pulling the orange inner sleeve out to read the notes, when my Grandmother asked, “what's that?” I told her - “it's my new OMD album”, to which she replied, "I thought you didn't like that Pop Music?”, failing to differentiate between Cliff and the whole Pop oeuvre…
Fokker
7
OMD
‘VCL XI’
My favourite OMD track is ‘VCL XI’. This track in particular sums up the characteristics of the Japanese Korg and Roland synthesizer sounds. ARP, MOOG, etc. They created a unique sound that was as good as the high-end models and gave hope to many young people who had no connection to synthesizers.
Rikinari/S.A.P.T.
8
OMD
‘The New Stone Age’
OMD (and Peter Saville, whose name is inevitable to mention in the group's context) remain a tremendous influence. What they delivered on those first five albums of theirs (yes, "Junk Culture" included) remains forever inspiring. Album songs, the hits and especially the b-sides... a pleasantly confusing balance between the experimental and ear-friendly melodies, their melancholic shades of grey, nowhere near grateful a task to choose just one favourite OMD song. But then again, if I'd have to go for that one pick, it would definitely be ‘The New Stone Age’. The hysteria of it, pulling the song apart, the flamenco-esque lament against the ever frightening warning of armageddon.
Iv/An
In the autumn of 1983, I was fifteen and a freshman in high school. My mind was opening to music and the world thanks to nights out at the local teen juice bar near my house and the stuff I read about in Star Hits Magazine. Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark (OMD) happened to me when I went record shopping with Laura, my first ‘cool’ girlfriend. Her angular haircut and leather jacket immediately made me make a list of what she listened to. As we leafed through the bins, I heard The New Stone Age playing in the store and picked up Architecture & Morality. The New Stone Age hit me like a bus. From the time the clerk dropped a needle on it I was hooked. He played it three times in a row. I didn’t mind. I looked at Laura across from me as she was flipping through records, and from beneath her glorious bangs I noticed we were both nodding our heads in time. I was immediately hooked by the main chorus, “Oh my God what have I done this time.” They were an epiphany. At a time when the fear of nuclear war loomed large, The New Stone Age spoke to the nuclear age anxiety of the times. The song also tapped into my experiences of attending Catholic school and being a misfit. It was like Andy McCluskey knew what I needed. From the urgency of the guitars, the shimmering synths, percussion with a military march, and the undulating hum beneath the surface. A relentless opener, it trod a line between post-punk and synth-pop. The vocals summarized the themes of despair, and angst I was feeling. Forty years later, this regret-tinged bit of pop served as my gateway to music, modernism and noises made by machines.
Rob Levy
9
OMD
‘History of Modern (part I)’
I know it is an upbeat song about the end of the world, but I choose to interpret it a bit differently. For me it is an upbeat reminder that when someone dies, they are never really gone if even one person is there to remember them, talk about them, sing about them... The song got me through the death of my Dad (covid) and I have chosen it as one of my funeral songs - my children take great pleasure in winding me up about it! I shared this impact with Stu Kershaw. My son attended their last Glasgow gig with me, right up front, and Stu gave us a nod and a smile as we bounced and sang. A song of joy, not misery.
Wilma Missenden
